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Link opened his eyes, and instantly felt relieved. The sword was back within its pedestal and Hyrule was at peace once more.
His hand laced with Zelda’s, and they began to walk back to the castle. His memories were fuzzy, of his time as four people, but he had no doubt they’d clear up soon. He just had to wait for a bit, for his mind to process the different sensations and sort it. It would happen in due time, though, for now, he needed to focus on helping rebuild Hyrule.
He could do that much, being four times the hero and all.
~
Link had started to remember little things.
He remembered icy blue anger, burning tears, affirming whispers and blooming thoughts. He remembered still waters and crackling hearths and gentle breezes and soft ground. He remembered love, so much love, too much love.
Way too much love.
Maybe it wasn’t what he thought, when the memories cleared, maybe it would all make sense. Maybe it would be obvious that, hey, maybe they all felt love for Zelda, or maybe the love wasn’t romantic at all and he was being paranoid. All he knew was that he wasn’t sure what to think.
It’s okay, he had time.
~
Link should have known.
His first memories were of Red, of fire and warmth and burning tears and igniting cheeks.
He remembered wrapping his arms around Blue’s neck, face growing warm as he crossed his ankles, eyes wide with admiration, with love.
“My blue hero~!” Red crooned, grinning in that goofy way Link used to when he was younger, before knight training.
Blue had also blushed slightly, eyes narrowing, “You’re freaking me out, Red!”
“What are you idiots doing!” Green’s voice carried over, “We’re in the middle of a battle!”
He remembered hugging Green tightly, giggling and grinning without a care, and he remembered Green pressing soft lips against his cheek.
He remembered Vio’s fingers carding though his hair as he laid down in his lap, eyelids drooping, warm, fuzzy feelings in his chest blooming as nimble fingers scratched his scalp just right.
He remembered pitchforks and torches, and his one thought being I want Green, I want Blue, I want Vio!
He remembered soft kisses against his lips before his sword was raised, plunging downward as everything swirled together, and then Red wasn’t Red but Link, and Link was just starting to remember.
So, when he dreamed, he dreamed of soft kisses along his face and warm, soft, fuzzy love in his tummy.
~
Link’s next memories were of Green, of breezes and currents and breath on his skin.
He remembered clashing blades with Blue, exhilaration in his veins as they sparred, and then he remembered the way Blue’s sweaty palms felt against his own and went red.
He remembered leaning over Vio’s shoulder, reading alongside him, quiet save gentle breaths along his neck. He remembered pressing a gentle kiss on his collarbone and feeling Vio’s head lean against his own as they read beneath a tree.
He remembered lifting Red by his waist, spinning him around through the air as he shrieked in joy, remembered pulling the most optimistic of the group down to kiss the tip of his nose, relishing in the way Red gripped his tunic and hid his flushed cheeks.
He remembered dark hallways and echoing, silent pleas for Vio, for Red, for Blue, for anyone more useful than him.
He remembered brushing noses with them all before raising his sword, plunging it down and everything swirled, Green was not Green but Link and Link was remembering.
So, when he dreamed, he dreamed of gentle breaths against his neck and drifting, light, shifting adoration in his chest.
~
Link’s third batch of recollections were of Vio, of solid ground and blooming flowers and feather-light brushes of fingers.
He remembered arguing senselessly with Blue, and, in the heat of the moment, gripping his neckline and yanking him forward, kissing him hard to shut him up, and he remembered Blue melting, and barely registered that he melted back.
He remembered laying down to sleep, feeling Green’s hand rest on his hip as he shifted onto his side, and he remembered a gentle, reverent whisper of “Good night, lilybud,” and he remembered drifting off with a gentle smile.
He remembered Red’s pout as he pushed the book in his hands down, whines of want forcing him to give in, setting his book to the side as he let Red clamber on his legs, hugging around his neck as he rubbed his back lovingly.
He remembered a clawed hand resting in his own, red eyes and lavender hair and gentle, loving bites along his fingers, and he remembered biting Shadow’s hand in retort, and he remembered kissing in the heat of Death Mountain.
He remembered cradling Shadow’s dying body, remembered sobs wracking his body as Green and Red and Blue all surrounded him, hugging him, and all he could think was I am so lucky that their love is blind .
He remembered lacing his fingers together with Red and Green and pressing a kiss to Blue’s cheek before plunging his sword into the ground, and then it swirled and Vio was Link and Link remembered.
So, when he dreamed, he dreamed of budding lilies and rough kisses and love bites and cradling warmth and, most of all, grateful reverence of unconditional passion.
~
Link’s last memories were of Blue, of jagged icicles and rushing rivers and constant waves of affection.
He remembered Green and his stupid mouth, his dumb tunic and his stupid, stupid hair and how soft it was when he pressed his nose against it, breathing in the scent of petrichor and morning mist, and he remembered Green murmuring that he smelled like dewdrops and waterfall spray.
He remembered sitting with Vio, quietly, leaning shoulder-to-shoulder, and he remembered his hand laced with his as the other was used to fold tunics, listening to the sound of pages fluttering from one side of the book to the other.
He remembered Red sobbing, holding his stiff body in his arms and kissing his crown, causing warmth to spike in his thawing limbs, and he remembered the feeling of Red’s tears pattering against his cheeks as he reached up with his right hand, cradling his cheek and whispering “I’m gonna be okay, stop being such a crybaby…”
He remembered being frozen solid, his last thoughts before going unconscious being about how he hoped Red, Green and Vio could forgive him for being so stupid.
He remembered playfully punching their shoulders, smelling their hair before plunging down and swirling and Blue no Link remember remember remember -
So, when Link dreamed, he dreamed of stupid hair and finger-laced silence and pitter pattering tears and, most of all, jagged gashes along his mind of deep, bottomless devotion.
~
Link could barely breathe.
He existed, he was one and he was alive, but they were dead. Green and Red and Blue and Vio, four lovers, kisses and hand holding and breathing and tears, they didn’t exist anywhere but in his heart.
His heart ached for people who never existed, longed for his own hands through his hair and his lips on his own and his breath on his neck and his fingers in his own hand. His four hearts ached for each other but they were together, together and aching as separate and yet together more than ever.
He begged Zelda, Please, make it stop, it hurts, and she did nothing but sigh and say, There is nothing I can do, I cannot split you again, and he hated it.
His heart would ache for itself as long as he lived and there was nothing anyone could do about it.
A traitorous little voice in the back of his head told him that death would stop the ache, and he agreed.
He would simply have to wait for death to come, and pray he could live long enough to die naturally, prayed he could die from outside forces before his pain forced his hand.
Link did not blame Green or Red or Blue or Vio because what had they done wrong? Fall in love? That was the right of all living things, how could he dare fault them for feeling? How much audacity would he have to possess to truly believe that they didn’t deserve to be happy because it made him hurt?
They were people, they were individuals, they were alive and they killed themselves to bring him back, and, as retribution for obligating them to do such a thing, he bore their eternal ache.
They made a far more noble sacrifice than he did, and it was only fair he suffer in their stead.
~
“Can you at least try and see if there’s a way to kill Ganon in his seal? To get rid of him for good, so that I can bring them back?”
Zelda pursed her lips, glaring at Link, “You’ve asked me that question hundreds of times, Link! I refuse, all you’re doing is damaging yourself, and, even if I found a way, they would be mortified! I still don’t quite understand why you speak of them as if they aren’t you, but what I do know is that this isn’t healthy. You need to let it go.”
Link felt rotten, sickening hatred bubble in his throat, venom waiting to be spat, but he held his tongue. She didn’t understand, she never would. She didn’t have to feel four times the heartache, which only got worse the longer he existed. Even his dreams were not safe, dreams of tender affections between me, myself, I, us, strange and wonderful dreams of endless love and devotion. Nobody had ever loved her in that way, at least none she had loved in turn.
To think, when all parts of himself loved each other so tenderly, and yet Link felt sick looking in the mirror, revolted at his own mind. He was so bland, so simple, he hadn’t changed a bit since before the sword. Their growth was theirs, not his own, and he knew it.
His father didn’t understand, father thought he would be slower to anger because Blue grew calmer, would be less emotional because Red grew more independant, would be less cold because Vio blossomed, would be less insufferable because Green was the child he always wanted deep down. Father was wrong, and he was stupid and cruel for bringing it up every time Link ran off to fight on his own.
Father thought he learned the lesson of teamwork, but they weren’t his lessons , they were Green Red Blue VIO-
Not him, never him.
They were just pieces of him, and yet they were more whole than he could ever be. How ironic, it almost lifted his shroud of melancholy to think about.
They were whole because they loved and lost, they grew and changed, coal to diamonds, they were the heroes. They were the ones the town should be rejoicing, the ones to continue living.
When the Blue Maiden took him to her hometown, he recognized the quaint little houses and trees. He recognized the girl who jolted up to her feet from her seat on the porch of a house, doll in hand as she ran over.
“Green! Where are the others, you never came back to visit!” Erune exclaimed, doll-like face in a pout.
Link didn’t want to tell her, but she deserved to know. She was so kind to them when they were alive…
“I’m sorry,” he murmured, “but they…I’m not Green, and Red and Blue and Vio are gone, too. They brought me back and now they’re gone. I’m sorry.”
She blinked in disbelief, eyes growing slightly foggy. Link opened his arms, and she crashed into them, hugging him tightly.
Link rubbed her back and swayed with her in his arms, muttering, “I remember what they did, who they were. You were so, so important to them, Erune. They wanted to visit, they really did, but they fell into a trap, and then there was no time to do anything but what they had to. Then it was too late for them to be able to go anywhere else. I’m so, so sorry.”
What was supposed to be a quick visit took two days, the Blue Maiden seeming to realize that they needed time to talk. Erune stopped crying eventually, and she became determined to meet him, too. To know him , since he was there and remembered her.
She was a bright girl, with a smile like blooming wildflowers and an optimistic disposition. He couldn’t help but be her friend, it would feel wrong to do anything else. She was the only person with any idea of what it might be like, having really, truly met the four colors, and for that he was grateful. She didn’t assume anything, she spoke to him with knowledge of who they were and was keen on knowing who he was, because she knew he was different.
He told her of his heartache, and she pushed his arm and said with certainty, “Stop trying to think of yourself as a boring copy of them. You are you and they were them, and just because you remember their memories doesn’t make you less you or them less them. Grieve, but don’t you dare think of yourself like you have been again! Rosie will stop you.”
“But you love Rosie,” Link chuckled sadly, “And I know Rosie loves you too. I think that’s pretty clear.”
“But Rosie also likes you, and she liked them, too. She likes you specifically, and she liked them, too. If there’s anyone she wants to help, it’s you. Take her with you, I’ll feel better about having to give her away if I’m giving her to you. I know you’ll take care of her,” Erune said seriously, holding the delicate doll out to him.
He couldn’t refuse, he knew what Rosie meant to Erune. This was a very deep show of trust, and damn it, it made him tear up.
Link was glad that he knew someone who was so kind.
~
It still ached, but he was getting better.
He sewed a new tunic, the four colors of them, with intricate gold embroidery depicting shapes he didn’t quite understand. They simply came to mind when thinking of them. He turned his hat into a green hood with claw-like dangles and a beak-like top, letting his heart follow the lead with his making. The hood felt secure, and the tunic felt like a true memorial.
He let his hair grow out, remembering sleepy violet murmurs of wanting to see how it felt. He wove thread of four colors into it, braiding with green, red, blue, violet strings to bring color to his life.
He rarely left Rosie behind, having convinced one of the castle mages to use enough protection spells to make her near indestructible. He combed her hair and pulled it into different styles, weaving similar colored threads in her own hair, he purchased clothes for her and got her ready each day.
Having something to do helped him ignore the ache just a little more.
He and Erune even stayed pen-pals, and he took the time to draw Rosie in whatever outfit and hairstyle he chose that day while writing each letter. Even if he couldn’t visit often, he made sure he did, and he sent enough letters to last a lifetime.
One day, Erune sent a strange letter.
“ Link,
A group of strange people appeared and started asking around about you, they looked like really strong warriors! They asked around about “The Hero” and, when they asked me, I told them you lived all the way in the castle.
If you don’t know them, I think you should steer clear of them. I think they need you for something big, and you’re really hurt already. Whatever happens with them will hurt you more, I can feel it.
By the way, how have you been holding up? Last time I saw you, you looked much better, like you’d been eating more. I hope you have been able to keep up with your basic needs and that you are able to continue.
Stay safe and kind regards,
Erune ”
His finger brushed over the long-dried ink, and, with the way it was scratched out, he realized she had been panicked. She really cared about him , and it brought tears to his eyes. He sent back a letter.
“ Dearest Erune,
As much as it pains me, I have to seek them out. If even you know something big is coming with their arrival, then it’s clear that Hylia has put Her paws on me again. I simply must urge the princess to cleanse the sword once more, it is a four day trip from your village to the castle. I have time to bring the real heroes back by the time they get here. I can only hope Zelda is more willing to listen now that I know that the Goddess wills it to be so.
I shall make an effort to be as safe as possible, and I shall do all I can to remain in a better state of health than before. I’m glad to tell you that I have been able to eat three meals a day for a week now, and I managed to put my heart into training my sword again.
I must thank you again, though I do it every other letter, for letting me take care of Rosie. She is such a joy in my life, and she is one of the only reasons I keep waking up each morning, the other being to read the letters you send. I am grateful to have you both as friends, and I pray that whatever quest I am sent on does not require I stop sending letters.
If I can no longer send letters to you, I shall draw Rosie every day until I can send one again. I deeply fear that the letter you receive then will be bulging, but there isn’t much I can do. I truly hope it does not come to such a thing.
With much regret and love,
Link "
Looks like he will have to be extra annoying to Zelda.
~
Zelda had finally relented to his pleas with knowledge of likely another adventure coming. It took three days to do so, and Link knew there wasn’t enough time. The armed strangers were likely already here, since Erune’s letter had been dated to four days from this date.
Link would likely have to go in their stead at this rate.
A knight walked in, bowing to the princess reverently, “Your majesty, a group of armed mercenaries wishes to speak to you directly. Shall we permit entry?”
“Bring them in,” Zelda commanded, and she glanced at Link with a certain glimmer in her eye.
He responded with a half-smile, a curt, silent “I told you so”.
Many footsteps echoed, and Link looked out at the sudden crowd of eight men and boys. Most were some shade of blonde, though there were a few brunettes, some were more tan than others, and they all had blue eyes.
There was a man just slightly older than Link with red and blue feathers woven into his brown hair, a white cloak with birdlike symbols tracing the edges. His eyes were round and kind, and he smelled of ozone even from a distance.
There was a tall, older man with only one eye, silver plate armor with moons and triangles on the breasts, a bag at his sip. He had hair that resembled straw curving around his face, slightly unkempt, and his face bore green, red and blue marks.
A young man with black marks along his forehead stood with the eyes of a beast. A thick, heavy wolf pelt draped over his shoulders, sharing patterns with his own skin, perhaps some sick triumph.
There was a boy younger than him wearing a blue shirt with an odd animal printed on the front in white embroidery, windswept bangs just barely out of his eyes. He reeked of saltwater and fish, which was odd because it was a very, very long trip to get to any sort of ocean.
Another boy that looked strangely similar to the one in the blue shirt stood beside his double, hair greasy, white button-down shirt covered in splotches of a black substance that smelled like death. A belt of strange tools was wrapped around his waist, and a flute of all things hung from the left side.
A very tall figure in a dark cloak stood behind the two boys (twins perhaps?), the only thing peeking from the darkness being two long sections of fiery red hair, successfully pinning them as the odd one out. Not even their feet showed through the thick fabric.
A boy with almost fake looking blonde curls stood with his arms crossed, a scowl permanently etched into his youthful features. His roots were a strawberry pinkish color, and strips of the same shade stuck out from under the first layer of blonde. He wore a red tunic that went halfway down his thighs and no pants in sight, which was strange, but Link wouldn’t judge.
Another boy the same age as Pinky Mc No Pants looked around with wide eyes, hair such a deep brown that it seemed nearly black. He was very pretty, and magic seemed to spark at his fingertips.
A tall, lean man with a breastplate and long, flowing blue scarf stood tall, hair falling neatly messy over his head. He had the inherent discipline of a knight and bowed slightly at his hip upon seeing the princess.
Then, there was the man with scars. His hair was incredibly long, pulled into a loose ponytail, and he was missing his right arm. His left looked like it shouldn’t even be functioning, and he was also blind in one eye.
All in all, an incredibly strange bunch, and all of them were, regrettably, taller than him.
“State your business, travelers,” Zelda intoned, voice seeming to echo. She was quite small in stature, but she had learned how to use the voice of a true queen.
The eldest stepped forward, single eye glittering, “Apologies for such late notice, your majesty. We are in need of the Hero named Link. A quest has begun though intervention by the Goddess Herself.”
Link sighed, “Well, you have Link right here. But I’m not a hero.”
Zelda scowled, turning to face him, “You are, Link. Don’t lie to them. Whether you think so or not, you saved Hyrule, doesn’t matter how you remember it. I watched you save Hyrule.”
“Them, you watched them,” Link hissed warningly, “They saved Hyrule, I just pulled a sword and woke up after the fact! We both know this.”
The man with feathers in his hair stepped beside the eldest, smiling serenely, “If there are issues with finding the hero, then we can always attempt to wait. I am unsure if Hylia will be able to stall for long, but rest assured that we can do our best. I would say it is best to be sure that we have found the one we seek, indeed?”
“Please, we need more time. Then…then the real Heroes will be here,” Link sighed, clasping his hands in front of his chest.
“Does that mean we get to stay in the castle!?” The boy in the blue shirt cried, gripping his double’s shoulder, “Awesome! I haven’t been in one of these in years! Spirit, come on, lighten up!”
The one covered in black stains, Spirit, sighed, pressing his index finger to the bridge of his nose, “I’m sorry I’m not in a perfectly joyous mood after being stabbed by multiple monsters this morning. You’re lucky, Wind, you only twisted your ankle.”
Link didn’t bother to stick around, turning his back on the group with little fanfare and leaving. There was research to do, things to find so that these people wouldn’t have a false hero dragging them down.
Eight hands that loved each other would work far, far better than two hands that hated themselves.
(Had he stayed for a moment longer, he would have noticed the boy in the red tunic with pink hair look well and truly mortified at the words Link had spoken. He would have noticed him silently mutter “ heroes? ”, glaring at his back.)
~
Zelda’s voice held a deep, echoing tone as she chanted over the sword, light magic pooling within the palms of her hands as she held them to the pedestal. Link stood just outside of the magic’s reach, watching intently, feeling the blade sing with the holy magic being flooded into it.
The pretty boy with wide eyes and crackling magic, who Link found out was named Hyrule of all things, was there, too, looking at the display with curiosity.
“You know…” Hyrule murmured, leaning closer so Link could hear, “I’ve never seen light magic being used like this before. It’s usually so passive, if not restraining…this is offensive, fighting magic. I never thought it could really be used that way, y’know?”
Link nodded lightly, staring at the sword as he saw wisps of darkness escape, then fizzle into nothingness inches from where it came from. It was working, Ganon was dying, he could taste it, which was a very odd thing to taste.
Hands in hands, gentle kisses, brushing noses, sweaty palms tickled his mind, and he smiled at the feeling of heart-wrenching sorrow.
He could not wait to die again.
Zelda was as quick as she was ruthless, purging the evil in a minute’s time, leaning back with heavy breaths. She turned to him, eyes narrowed, “Are you satisfied, Link?”
His feet tapped against stone carefully, reverently as he brushed his fingers against the pommel of the blade. Clean, elemental and holy magic sung through the palm of his hand, and, when he felt no darkness, he wept tears of joy.
“I am more than satisfied,” Link sobbed, “I am elated , I am ecstatic, I am hardly able to wait to let them do their jobs once more.”
Hyrule stretched, smiling softly, “I’ll get the others. Something tells me it will save many explanations in the long run. Just wait a little longer, okay?”
Link rubbed the tears from his cheeks, though the tracks were replaced very soon after. He nodded very slightly, staring at the odd gem on the pommel of the sword. He tilted his head around it, watching it shift from green to blue to red to slight rims of violet in a honeycomb pattern. A honeycomb welo opal, at least in appearance, though he knew the real gems didn’t contain violet.
Special, unique, an imitation of something more familiar, like what they had started as. His finger traced the violet mountain-shaped amethyst, the red, round ruby with three spikes like a crown, the round sapphire with a rounded center, and the green emerald swirl on the crossguard, and he shed more tears.
Many footfalls told him that the others had arrived. Sky, Time, Wind, Spirit, Twilight, Warrior, Aspect, Wild, Legend, Hyrule, every last one walked in and stared.
“So that’s the sword you’ve been so hung up on?” Warrior chuckled, “It looks fancy, but how certain are you that it works right? None of us have ever really heard of this Four Sword, how can we be sure?”
Legend scowled, as he did quite often, snapping, “Speak for yourself about what you’ve heard; stories of that blade took over my life when I was younger. I even have first-hand experience with seeing it, even in a dilapidated state. That thing could slay armies even at its weakest, it probably has slain armies before if this time matches up with what the records say.”
Link smiled, turning to face the others. Sunlight fell from gaps in the ceiling, peppering his face in warm kisses, and the golden hilt of the Four Sword glittered, calling. If he closed his eyes, he could pretend he was Red in his memories as Blue held his cheeks, pressing kiss after kiss to his face as he giggled.
“I’ve kept you waiting for the real heroes for too long,” Link sighed, turning to the sword and gripping its handle, “Allow me to introduce you to the Heroes of Light.”
He pulled, the world swirled, and he was not Link but Green Blue Red Vio and they breathed fresh air for the first time in four years.
~
Vio would forever deny that the first thing he did upon waking up again was scream, trip over his own feet, and fall face first into the floor.
Could you blame him? He wasn’t supposed to wake up again ever . They were supposed to reform into Link and never need to exist again, as much as it hurt, but, with the new memories Link made, he could see why he existed once more.
Oh sweet golden three, they really hurt him, and he cared so much . He remembered what they did, remembered their love for each other that they had all first thought was blasphemy and he hardly blinked at it, accepting it as reality with no questions, even feeling bad for making them feel like they had to bring him back .
How dare his father say he was selfish and arrogant? Link was so fiercely kind that it was killing him slowly and he didn’t even blame them he just blamed himself.
If the four of them could exist at the same time as him, Vio would have instantly and forcefully wrestled him into a pillow fort and hugged him, and this was coming from Vio , him of all the colors. Mister Calm Collected Stoic of the group.
“HOLY SHIT!” Wind’s voice screeched, “WHAT JUST HAPPENED!?”
“Shut up, I have a fucking headache!” he heard Blue shout back, and Vio promptly realized that he had one too. It had hurt the first time, too, he recalled.
He made an effort to get up, sighing and pressing a hand to his forehead, pulling away to see the tiniest bit of blood. Vio sighed, “What a fantastic first impression; faceplants and instantly cursing out people we don’t really know. What’s next, someone’s going to throw their shoe at them?”
“People you don’ really know?” Twilight said, shifting nervously, “But, uh, you-Link? We’ve been ‘round y’all for a week…”
“You’ve been around Link for a week. We are not Link, though uh…technically we are? In a strange kind of way. Let’s start from the top, hello there! My name is Green, and I am the Green Hero of Light. I am also very technically Link, but in, like, a we share memories but are nothing alike way and not a I am him but I act a little different way if that makes sense,” Green chuckled, rubbing the back of his head from where he stood. Lucky bastard, he was the one to spawn in where Link had been standing and, as such, got to stay standing on his feet.
Vio decided to not let Blue find a way to sour their reputation even more right after that disaster of an introduction, “Salutations; my name is Vio. I am the Violet Hero of Light and I shall take the liberty of introducing the living ball of sunshine curled up on the floor. That is Blue, the Blue Hero of Light, and it is best you do not aggravate his headache further.”
“Ooh ooh, me next!” Red shouted, shooting up from where he had been sitting, having tripped and fallen right on his tailbone upon appearing. He wobbled on his feet for a moment before waving animatedly, “I’m Red! I’m the Red Hero of Light! Hi! Oh Link remembers so much about you guys, hello! I can’t wait to ask you everything Link was too scared to like-”
Red’s speech stopped abruptly when Blue goraned, and, in half a second, he was knelt by his side, helping pull him to a sitting position, fussing like a mother hen. Strings of “Oh honey where does it hurt, let me see, oh honey” floated around the now slightly awkward silence.
“So…” Wild trailed off, “Should there be like…a little explanation circle forming? Or?”
Vio sighed, moving to sit on Blue’s other side, hand coming to hold his, rubbing circles onto the back of the very pained Blue’s hand, “I suppose. Circle up, sit down, there is plenty to try and explain, and we have a lot of time. Unless the Goddess decides that She will just cut us off right now, we have time.”
So, a circle formed, and Vio prepared for the worst and hoped for the best.