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Hyrule is a little different than the others in a way Twilight thinks he understands. It’s not a bad thing— of course not. But over the course of their months together, Twilight couldn’t help but notice that Hyrule has some consistent tendencies that Twilight has seen before.
Twilight honestly thinks that it was the little things that tipped him off more than the big ones. Like how Hyrule's got a huge sweet tooth and adores anything with honey in it, or the way he has a strange sort of allure even though he’s the most introverted in the Chain. When one of them pisses him off, there’s always some sort of trick or prank involved (he’d put frogs in Legend’s bag, once), and his hazel eyes sparkle with just as much mischief as Wind’s. His laughter often chimes in a bell-like way and his footsteps are always light and fluttery, leaving barely a trace behind him in a way that rivals Wild’s ability to disappear into nature.
And the wandering— Hylia above, the wandering. Twilight knows that that particular isn’t common in some of the others’ eras, but Twilight has never met a fae that hasn’t let their feet (wings?) guide them without much thought. There’s only one Great Fairy in Twilight’s era, and her fountain is underground in the middle of the Gerudo Desert, for the goddesses’ sake. So he doesn’t blame them, really.
There are the other things, of course. Hyrule’s eyes glint in the dark just like Twilight’s, and his phrasing usually becomes just this side of manipulative when he’s trying to hide something. He can be ridiculously good at finding things even when the era is not his own, like nature itself is leading him (albeit wonkily) to that particular patch of mushrooms or cave. And, when Hyrule doesn’t want to be found, it’s practically impossible to do so.
For Twilight, the biggest one was learning that Hyrule carries a sword forged entirely out of silver. When asked about it, Hyrule shrugged and said, ‘It was given to me. Most swords are too heavy for me, anyway.’ And Twilight might’ve taken that as a valid answer, if he hasn’t seen the way the traveller edges as far away as he possibly can from Wild when he uses his cast iron. Or heard Hyrule shoot down Warriors more than once when the captain suggested Hyrule get some chainmail. He’d used the same reasoning; too heavy. He liked being light on his feet.
It’s common knowledge in the village that fae folk hate iron. It can even burn them and drain their magic, if the concentration is high or pure enough. Twilight knows, because every house in Ordon’s got a solid iron horseshoe hanging over the door and wild woods practically at their doorstep.
Also, Hyrule glows when he’s happy.
Not too much, really, and not quite noticeable to the normal eye. Twilight, however, always sees the faint pink shimmer that accompanies Hyrule’s rare smiles. It makes warmth blossom in his chest every time, being able to see this physical embodiment of the traveller’s happiness.
To Twilight, it’s fairly obvious that Hyrule is fae. He’s not sure how much— full-blooded or half or just a descendant— but he supposes it doesn’t matter much. Hyrule isn’t hiding it, either, or at least Twilight thinks he isn’t, so the traveller must have the same logic.
He wonders if Hyrule notices the sort of difference Twilight has, too. Besides the general introverted-ness, love of the outdoors and dislike of crowded space, they’re similar in that way; neither of them are quite Hylian.
Not anymore, for Twilight.
It’s in Hyrule’s era that they’re dropped off next, a fact that is either coincidence or an expected twist of fate. Hyrule announces that they’re actually not far from a town for once, and leads them through a few damp miles of marshlands before the walls come into sight. Warriors hops on one foot by the gate, swearing as he shakes a literal fish (though tiny and a little mutated) out of his boot. Legend nearly kills himself laughing, even though Warriors threatens to punt him over the walls. Twilight meets Time’s gaze with a grin, and the old man just rolls his eye fondly.
The light atmosphere dissipates, however, as they try to enter the town. The guard they’d been passing without problem suddenly sidesteps into their group, spear glinting in the sunlight as he shoves the heavy shaft against Hyrule’s chest and presses him back.
“Not him.” the guard growls.
The worst part, Twilight thinks as his chest tightens, is that Hyrule doesn’t even look surprised. He inches away from the guard, eyes flicking to the head of the spear, and waves the heroes on with a small resigned shrug.
“‘Scuse me?” the words are out of Twilight’s mouth before he thinks, voice a low rumble.
The guard glances at him, uncaring. “He ain’t allowed in. Mayor’s orders.”
Twilight shares an infuriated look with Legend. The vet crosses his arms over his chest, rings glimmering as he taps his fingers over and over on his bicep. “He’s the hero,” he says accusingly.
“He brings monsters.” the guard counters, and Twilight watches his jaw work as he takes them in fully for the first time. The Chain often comes off as intimidating without them meaning to, with how many of them there are and the status of their armoury, but now Twilight doesn’t give a fuck.
“They follow him like locusts,” the guard continues, though his voice is less strong now. “Everywhere. Ransack towns he ain’t even in just because he’d been there. No more, we said. He ain’t allowed in.”
Hyrule waves to get their attention and says, ‘It’s fine. I’ll wait out here.’
“‘Rule,” Legend says, glaring the guard down. “You’re coming. Let’s go.”
But Hyrule shakes his head, eyes downcast. ‘He’s right,’ he answers, gesturing at the guard. ‘They always find me sooner or later. I’m fine. I’ll just wait.’
Twilight sucks in a breath that lies heavy in his lungs, looking to Time. Their eldest has his arms crossed over his chest, gaze flicking between the guard and Hyrule. Finally, he sighs. “If Hyrule wants to wait, he can. Not alone, though.”
“I’ll stay,” Twilight speaks up quickly even though he's not entirely sure why, glancing over to Legend to confirm.
Legend raises an eyebrow at him but shrugs, grinning. “Just keep him from getting stuck in a tree or something.”
They find a spot along the wall that encircles the town to sit. Hyrule curls his knees into his chest as Twilight sprawls his out, listening to the noises of civilization just behind the stone. Recalling something, he digs a hand in his trouser pocket, pulling out a few wildberries he’d stolen from Wild and offering them to the traveller. Hyrule gasps happily when he sees them, popping one in his mouth as his skin takes on that sheen of otherworldly pink. The sight of it makes Twilight smile, and he settles back against the wall.
“So,” he says softly, thinking might as well. “Fae, huh?”
Hyrule freezes, another berry halfway to his mouth. Twilight’s heart drops a little as Hyrule scoots a few inches farther from him, hazel eyes wide in surprise and glow snuffed out. ‘How did you know?’ he demands, and his gaze is flitting to the landscape around him, weight shifting uneasily as he braces his feet against the earth. Like he wants to run. Like he needs to run.
Twilight knows that feeling.
And, he realises, perhaps Hyrule had been trying to hide it.
Twilight eases his shoulders back, hooking his thumbs in his sash in the picture of casual— or, at least, he hopes so. He smiles gently at Hyrule, not trying to get closer but not moving away. “You’re glowin’, ‘Rule.”
Hyrule smacks his hands to his cheeks, wildberries tumbling out of his grip. His lips part in what could almost be horror, eyes going impossibly wider. ‘What?’
“Well, you ain’t no more,” Twilight clarifies. “You jus’ glow a little when you’s happy. Nothin’ to be ‘shamed of.”
Hyrule stays silent, jerking his gaze down. His fists curl in the hem of his tunic, shoulders hunched, and Twilight thinks maybe, just maybe his timing hadn’t been optimal.
“None o’ the others have noticed,” Twilight says hurriedly, though he has no idea if that’s true or not. “I jus’ got better eyes than most. An’ we got fae from time t’ time ‘n Ordon, since it’s right on the edge o’ Faron. Lotta wild things that live ‘n those woods, an’ sometimes they get lost, wanderin’ like they do. Folks like us ‘s mighty happy to lend ‘em a hand.”
Hyrule’s mouth purses into a silent ‘oh’. He sits there for a moment before his legs relax. He picks up a wildberry from the dirt and studies it before dropping it in his mouth. ‘Half-fae,’ he signs slowly, ducking his head. ‘At least, that’s what Tera told me. I never knew my parents.’
“No wonder you’s so good at what ya do,” Twilight comments, and feels gratified when the tips of Hyrule’s ears pinken. He grins and adds, “‘Specially the wanderin’,”
‘... you’re different, too,’ Hyrule says shyly after a few beats, and he finally looks back up at Twilight. His hazel eyes are soft, irises gleaming more towards green right now. They flick over Twilight’s face in a way he’s familiar with— he’s looking at Twilight’s markings. ‘I’ve felt it in your magic, though I don’t recognise it. What are you? ’
Twilight tries not to flinch at the question. Phantom cries of “Monster! ” and “Beast !” fill his ears, heat scorching up the side of his chest— hisses of “Light dweller ”and “Dark one!” both, the light spirits referring to him as ‘tainted’.
(“- sympathised with them— no, it’s true, I heard it from…”
“But doesn’t he feel almost like it? Something about him is off, I don't care what the queen says—”
“- something not right about those tattoos… all menacing, right? And he just appeared out of nowhere! How do we know if he’s actually on our side… one of us or one of them?”)
In truth, Twilight has been asking himself that same question for over a year.
So his gaze slides to the side, shoulders moving up towards his ears as he replies quietly, “I dunno.”
Hyrule tilts his head slightly, brow furrowed. ‘You are Hylian, right? ’
Twilight swallows down the small words of I don’t know, I don’t know anymore . “Suppose so,” he forces out. “Born that way, a’least. Not so sure o’ it now.”
He loves the Light world. He does. He loves his village and the way the sun feels on his skin. He loves his friends and his family, loves the quiet, grassy alcoves by Lake Hylia and the shade of trees above his head. He loves the smell of fresh-baked bread, the feeling of water running over his calves, the whisper of grasses in the wind. He loves Dusk like a sister and loves seeing his people happy and safe.
But he loves the Twilight Realm, too, in a way he can’t explain as easily. He loves the way the smoky, dim sunlight filters through dark clouds. He loves the purples and soft greys that paint the sky, love the ethereal blues that outfit the buildings. He loves the people, as much as he didn’t interact with sane ones, their pursuit of knowledge and magic and love of the unknown. He loves the feeling of calm, deep serenity, even if it was tinged by sadness because he wanted to feel that way, too. He loved Midna, too, of course. But she was not the only thing he loved.
Now, with the Triforce on the back of his hand and the markings inked onto his face, he has no idea who he is. Light dweller, but with too much Twili magic in his bones. Twili, but with too much affinity for the Light. He’s caught between both worlds and yet stuck in one, the mirror gone and shattered and leaving him alone with this hole in his chest.
He’s scared it will never go away, that he won’t ever be able to fit into the realm that was once his. He’s scared it will go away, and he’ll forget about those midnight-tinged skies and the way he connected with them.
“Do you feel like ya have’ta choose?” Twilight asks softly, fixing his gaze on Hyrule’s face. “Hylians or fae, I mean?”
Hyrule looks down at his juice-smeared hands. ‘Sometimes. Hylians don’t want me, sometimes, and sometimes the fae get pretentious about blood. Not enough of one or the other, you know?'
“Yeah,” Twilight murmurs, reaching up to brush his fingers against the markings on his forehead. “One foot ‘n one world an’ one foot ‘n the other. But, like ya said, not ‘nough of one or the other to belong.”
Heartbeats pass between them in silence. Hyrule picks at his lips absently, eyes far away. Twilight eases out a quiet breath, straightening up against the wall and pulling one leg up. He rests his head back, eyes flicking to the soft blue sky above.
Twilight and Hyrule have one more thing in common, he thinks: they both don’t know how to stop moving.
“Maybe that’s why we wander so much,” Twilight muses aloud, more to himself than anything. “Maybe we’s lookin’ to find some place that feels like home.”
Hyrule shifts, tilting his head to look at him thoughtfully— and then past him. Twilight follows his gaze to an exuberant Wind waving non-stop at them, Legend slouched beside him with the exact opposite energy and Wild already trying to yell something at them even though they’re clearly out of earshot. They’re rowdy and smiling and even Legend looks a little less grumpy than usual, the downward set of his lips nonexistent right now.
Hyrule gets to his feet, and his smile is soft and genuine and warm in the way only Hyrule can do. He looks back at Twilight and says, ‘Maybe we already have.’
He offers a hand up. Twilight, feeling like the sunlight has soaked its warmth into his skin, huffs out a laugh and takes it.
He’s heard the saying that home isn’t the physical place, but the people that live there. And when Wild slings a jaunty arm over his shoulder to show him the frivolous things he bought, Wind hollering right next to his ear and Hyrule showing off that soft pink glow once more as he bickers with Legend, Twilight feels that it’s true.
Because, Light or Twili, Hylian or Ordonian, human or beast— whatever he is in the aftermath of the things he’d experienced—, right now?
Right now, with his brothers hanging off him and simultaneously making him love them to pieces and annoying the hell out of him, Twilight thinks he could let himself be at home here.