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Chapter Text

Day 3 Prompt: Preening

He wasn't sure when it had become a nervous habit of his.

Usually when he started feeling antsy or when it felt like his feathers were prickling into his skin like a thousand needles, he would stand, picking at the feathers and straightening them again and again, readjusting them and re-zipping them, no, that didn't feel right, they're out of place again, another attempt, another minute picking at them feathers, no, that made it worse, he would have to start over from the tip of his wing—

"You alright?"

The blue-feathered Rito looked up, his green eyes catching on the grey and white feathered Rito standing next to him. He whispered it quietly, his voice low enough so that only the expert ears of a Rito could pick it up. Revali said nothing, clacking his beak shut and fixing his posture, staring ahead. The voice of the speaker in front of them droned on and on, his drab words echoing over the grand hall they were all crammed into. It was supposed to be a celebration, but the fool in the front was making it sound as if they'd lost the battle. He supposed it was necessary— they had nearly lost it all (a thought he tried hard not to entertain). Still, they couldn't have found someone much more suited for the theme of this gathering—?!

"Revali." 

Gusto put a hand on his left wing discreetly, pulling it down. The Rito Champion hadn't even realized he'd gone back to picking at the feathers again, but by the Goddess, he couldn't help it. The walls felt like they were closing in on him, constricting and squeezing the last of his breath from his lungs. If anything were to happen, if the castle were to fall again, if somehow, somehow, there was still a piece of Ganon's foul energy lurking around how would he get out— how would any of the Rito get out? How would they fight amongst the scattered crowds, how would they protect anyone—

Oh. He was picking at his feathers again. His beak paused, and he straightened himself once more, trying to invoke the image of a proud, strong Rito Warrior— a Champion, someone who played a part in defeating and sealing Calamity Ganon, in suppressing the evil that threatened their home. He was someone that people would aspire to be like and admire, would treat with reverence and respect and not with ignorance and scorn. He would most certainly get through this little speech, then he would mingle with the grace of a Champion, and he would enjoy this even that was made for him!

But he still felt the prickling anxiety crawling up his skin.

Finally, after what seemed like far too long, the speech was over, the podium ended, and the orchestra began playing. Groups began to disperse amongst themselves; Revali hesitated, staying in the shadows of the Rito who were invited to attend: mostly warriors who had been exceptional during the battle, but a few non warriors had been invited as well. He could see Midi and Minette chattering away close to a window, while Maela and Acapel zipped through the castle, commenting on how different it was than Rito Village. Gusto had stationed himself near the older members, keeping an eye on the dozing Elder Komali, who was nestled in a chair as he spoke with Impa. And Stormy and Blizzard were eating, no doubt challenging each other to try some of the many delicacies that rarely crossed into Rito Village.

Everyone seemed to be doing fine— everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves.

So why couldn't he?

"If you keep pulling at your feathers like that, they're sure to fall out."

He paused mid-zip, his green eyes sliding up to the lavender-feather Rito next to him. Silently, he finished, then turned to look out at the crowd. The crowd full of happy, cheerful people, glad that the worst was behind them and that they had survived, that they had beat back what fate bestowed upon them. He was sure he had never seen the races of Hyrule intermingle as freely as this before— so willing to extend a hand and learn about the people who live in the same kingdom as them.

Then again, what would I know? I've only recently left the village.

"Why are you over here, Kamelia?" Revali asked, wincing slightly at how accusatory his question came out. "You should try some of the food— the fish is quite good. Or dance, if you can catch on to the beat."

"Someone has to keep an eye on you." Kamelia responded, and amused light coming across her face as Revali bristled.

"I most certainly do not need an 'eye' kept on me!" Revali snipped, his forewing feathers rising in indignation. "I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself!"

Kamelia chuckled, before turning towards the door. "Yes, you are— which is why I am coming to you for a little help. You know the garden, yes?"

"I've been to it a couple times." The blue-feathered Champion didn't want to admit that he'd been there more than once, when the castle walls felt like they were falling on him. “Why do you ask?”

“I heard there are some wonderful flowers there— some that would make for excellent fabric dyes. I've already asked Princess Zelda, and she has given me permission to take a few.” Kamelia explained, her blue eyes connecting to his green ones. “You know the castle better than I, so… would you mind leading me to the West Gardens?”

Revali paused. This was an out.

Of all the Rito, Kamelia was the only one who was able properly read him, to see through the facade that he put up to protect himself. She never outright confronted him, instead working around the defenses he put up, forcing him to face what he was doing and what he was saying. Most occasions he hated her supposed omnipotence, but today...

He felt another skitter run down his back, felt his forewing and chest feathers rise as if he were threatened, felt the burning need to pick and pull at his feathers again. He felt the crushing weight against his chest as he tried to take in a breath, the blurring in his vision as he blinked.

He glanced at the other Champions— at the closest thing he could consider friends— watching them seamlessly blend into the moving crowds. Daruk was hard to miss-- he was loud, boisterous, and took up entirely too much space. But many were attracted to the warm personality he exuded, to the positive aura that permeated the Goron. The loud laughter in the room came from the corner he'd found himself in, many a crowd of different types surrounding him. Next to him was Urbosa, with a gathering as well. From what Revali understood, the Gerudo were far more secluded than the Rito were, and rarely ventured from the desert. Any who wanted a family did so, searching amongst the eligible men in Hyrule before returning to the Town for good. Most notably, the crowd skewed towards women, all with some level of fascination towards the tall Gerudo Chief. They were much more quiet than the Lord of the Gorons, but there was still a level of bonding between them that Revali didn't quite understand. Up towards the front of the room was Mipha, along with Zelda… and Link. Of course, the Zora and the Hylians shared a long, extensive history with each other. Additionally, he'd been told that Link and Mipha specifically shared a history, having been long time friends. Right now, the biggest crowd surrounded the trio, with many wanting to talk or meet with the Princess and Hero who'd saved the kingdom. Normally, he'd be filled with indignation, but even that was dulled by the never-ending stream of anxiety that flooded his system.

“Revali?” His eyes finally made their way back to Kamelia, who watched him with the look of someone who knew exactly what he was thinking. “Will you stay here?”

He should.

Really, he should. 

It was his duty, it was his role, it was the only thing he had going for him, if he abandoned it now then who was he? Who was he without the title of Champion? If he left and didn't do what was asked him, forced himself to push through the fear that choked him or the anxiety that ate him, and just kept going then he wouldn't be abandoned, he would still be loved and he needed to, he had to because he needed to be their equal, he had to stand on equal ground on them, to not have them turn their backs on him—

And yet. He gratefully took Kamelia's hand.

The walk down the hallway was a blur, his beating heart overpowering any sounds around him. Someone could quite possibly sneak up on him and rip his Great Eagle Bow from his back without him noticing. Kamelia's wing on his arm felt like burning where it touched, and quickly he led her through the halls, to a window large enough for him to take flight. She followed as he took the air, the crisp, yet damp air of Central Hyrule flooding his lungs as he took a deep breath. Almost as if a curse were being lifted, he felt his muscles begin to relax. The feel of the sun on his wings burned away the ice-cold touch of anxiety, his heart no longer feeling like it was going to burst. He closed his eyes, letting the wind guide him as he soared higher in the air, feeling it dance and weave through his feathers. He could stay up here for the rest of the afternoon— the rest of the evening as well. Forever, really— the only place he belonged, truly belonged, was in the sky— where nothing could bother him, nothing could restrict him.

And he would have, if not for the sound of the wings behind him.

He was supposed to be showing Kamelia the West Gardens.

He opened his eyes, looking down at the grounds of Hyrule Castle. It didn't take long for him to find the expansive gardens, and he nodded toward it, swooping down and landing in front of the gates. The guards nodded, and the two Rito passed through. It almost felt like they were entering another realm, as the garden's hushed atmosphere was different from the bustle and business of the celebration earlier. That was what had drawn Revali to the garden in the first place— no one really came here, and it was open enough that he could escape or fight back if needed. Unlike that enclosed ballroom, with its narrow windows and vaulted ceilings and the people all cramming their way in…

A wave of guilt pricked at his heart. He should go back to the party, he really should. It was unbecoming of him to leave with no prior notice and no reason to. He had a role to fulfill, and that included going to these functions, no matter how much he wanted to tear out his feathers at them.

Almost as if she could sense what he was thinking, Kamelia stepped into his line of sight, a soft smile on her face.

“Revali, do you remember when you first came to the village?”

Her voice was soft—unsure, her blue eyes filled with slight apprehension as she mentioned it.

He lowered his eyes in confusion. That had caught him off guard; he tended not to think about those early days in Rito Village. The only memories that would resurface were the ones that felt like glass shards in his mind— memories of being left behind constantly, an afterthought to the people who were supposed to be his family, in a way. No one extended a wing to a scrappy orphan kid beyond providing some fabric and a few meals a day…

No one aside from Kamelia, that is.

He watched as she moved to a neaby bench, sitting down on it; he sat next to her.

"You were so anxious, often following around Elder Komali and I as we went through our daily tasks." She seemed to be in own world, full of fond, happy memories that didn't apply to him, that he couldn't relate to. "Even then, you were always picking and pulling at your feathers, trying to get them right… braiding and unbraiding your hair as you mimicked the different styles you saw on the older Rito… you always wanted to look your best, and that habit hasn't changed at all."

Revali's beak clacked shut, and he turned away, huffing. Once more, Kamelia's word pierced right through him, to the heart of the matter.

"You know it's okay to as for help, yes?" She whispered softly, putting a hand on his wing. "We're here for you— not only because you're our Champion, but because you're you."

She turned him away from her, quickly undoing the intricate style Zelda had begged him to wear for this function. The screaming pain in his head slowly ebbed away as Kamelia worked the knots out of his hair. Bit by bit, his shoulders dropped, the tension leaving as the lavender-feathered Rito continued to run her hands through his hair. He felt his eyelids drooping, his ears picking up on the soft humming of a familiar tune. He could feel Kamelia rubbing something into the blue strands, her fingers deftly and softly weaving through them.

Ah, he did have one pleasant memory from his younger days… He could feel his mind bring it up, the familiar sights and sounds filling his ears and overlapping with the castle's garden.

Kamelia had been the one who'd braided his hair when he was far too young to do it. She would sit him down in front of her like he was now, facing away from him as she hummed an old tune, her fingers dancing and weaving through his hair like the Rito in the wind. She would make easy styles, explaining the steps and letting him try it out on her. And once he was old enough to do it, he'd stopped coming by and accepting her offers, wanting to seem like he was as capable and mature as she was. At the time, he thought he was doing her a favor— after all, she was only a few years older than him, and was far too young to be looking out for a discarded fledgling like himself. And yet, she still extended her wing whenever she could…

He felt a tug on his hair, and his head listed to the side, faintly, he opened one eye, spying Kamelia leaning over him. He was much taller than her now, having to hunch over so she could work. But that didn't seem to bother her as she braided, her fingers moving fast with practiced motions. Another tug, and his head being gently guided to the other side. It was a routine he was familiar with, though it'd been far too long. The quiet was like a comfortable blanket wrapped around him, like an old friend who'd finally flown home after a long journey, and without realizing it, he'd begun to doze off.

His last thought was that surely he needed to return to the party, lest someone think he snubbed them all.

Later, when he awoke, Gusto had arrived; he was against the bench, a blanket draped over him and Kamelia's pack nestled under his head. The sun had already set, leaving the garden awash in the night's soft shadows. In embarrassment, he shot up, getting to his feet quickly. He patted his head, feeling the weight of a different set of braids (his normal style), and the loss of several pieces of ornaments. Gusto and Kamelia said nothing as his cheek feathers fluffed, and he made them swear to secrecy to never tell anyone about this. It was simply shameful that he let his guard down so quickly, and so low as well! He wasn't a child that needed looking after anymore— he was the Champion of the Rito, the Ace Archer of the Rito and Pilot to Divine Beast Vah Medoh!

Yet, when they returned to the party, wrapping up the last of the festivities, Revali no longer felt that smothering unease in his chest, didn't feel like his beak was aching and his feathers were prickling every part of him. He glanced in Kamelia's direction several times, watching her wrangle both Maela and Acapel off to bed.

Hmph. He supposed it would be right to thank her in some way; he owed her uncanny intuition after all. Without it, he might actually have pulled his feathers off.

And yet, the older Rito only gave him one of her knowing smiles as she told him thanks wasn't necessary, ruffling his head feathers. He slapped her hand away with a huff, then returned to his own roost, irately promising he would never go to her for anything again…

… At least, not for the rest of this event. She would be quite miserable without his company, so he would make her sweat a little, before gracing her with his presence once more.

And it was definitely not because he missed the familiarity of her preening, no!

It certainly wasn't.

But he would be there, once they returned to Rito Village, sitting on the Inn floor like many times before, that old tune lulling him to sleep and her fingers reminding him of a forgotten time.

Chapter Text

Day 4 Prompt: Hatchling

"Father, what are you going to do?"

Komali looked at his young daughter, the bundle pooling out of her hands. it was swaddled in a white and red scarf, white and sky blue feathers still clinging to its edges. On the inside was a barely hatched baby, an innocent, pure thing. Soft, down blue feathers were spread all across the quiet thing, its green eyes squinted and glancing around at the new sights and sounds. A pitiful squawk leaked from his tiny beak, no doubt looking for sustenance. His daughter (his lovely, responsible, and too young to be taking on this burden daughter), gave him a panicked look, her owl eyes widening as she held the hatchling.

Komali's heart twisted, knowing fully well that this young one's life would be difficult. It had only been born a few short weeks ago, and already it was facing hardships, already it was being forcing into a difficult updraft. The village elder closed his eyes, wishing to the Goddesses that this was only a fluke, that she would come back and realize her mistake, would take the boy with her and give him the home he deserved, a home he would have difficulty finding here. He hoped that his words had gotten through her, his pleas and begging not to go through with this, to not abandon the only piece of him— of Mauris— she had left. He could remember the last time he'd spoken to Bell, the little egg nestled underneath her as she gave him a dead-eyed stare, the hollows of her cheeks prominent.

It felt as though he were screaming into a Hebra snowstorm, with no one around to hear him.

"Why don't you take him to Minette? She should be able to get something for him." Komali stood, feeling the weight of this situation already settle into his bones. He could feel the ever present doubts and worries creep into his mind, that he wasn't ready for this position, that he was far too inexperienced to lead the Rito. That his father passing on the mantle to his feeble and kindhearted son was a mistake. "In the meantime, I will see if I can gather the guards to execute a search for Belinda— she couldn't have gotten far."

"Yes, father… oh!" He watched as she dug around in the blankets, producing a small crumpled and ripped slip of paper.

She held it out to him; he took it. "What is this?"

"I found it on the floor next to him; I thought it might be important." the lavender-feathered Rito had begun bouncing the little bundle gently as she turned to exit. Komali followed her. "I didn't read it, though."

Komali opened it up, his hands trembling as he braced his mind for what it said.

It was Bell's handwriting— scratchy, rushed, as if she knew she was losing time. As if she couldn't spend another second here.

Revali.

This is the only thing I can give him.

Komali's hands trembled as he glanced up at the bundle his daughter carried, her blue eyes watching him with concern. Almost as if they were compelled by an unseen force, his own slid to the baby, to Revali, watching him suck in air, watching the fragile beak clack as it searched for food, watching his eyes dart back and forth, looking for the comfort of his parents— parents that would never come, would never hold him or tell him everything would be alright.

"Take Revali to Minette for now… I will clear out Bell's hut for him."

Kamelia sucked in a breath, no doubt wanting to ask questions, but instead nodded solemnly, whispering quietly to the eaglet.

In the meantime, Komali cobbled together what he could, gathered what he could for now and for the future, when this young bird would have to fly on his own.

He sent a silent prayer to the Great Valoo, hoping he would give the hatchling the strength to soar, higher than any other.

He would need it, desperately.

~~~====~~~

"What's so funny, Father?" Kamelia asked, a bemused smile on her face as she leaned against his dresser. Her blue eyes were questioning, wondering what was going on in his mind.

Usually she would guess with that uncanny perception of hers, but today she seemed to be unable to tell.

Elder Komali rocked gently, watching two bodies in the distance; one belonged to a Rito, his brilliant blue feathers standing out amongst the dimmer colors of the village. He had a haughty grin on his face as he leaned down to the other person, a dark skinned woman, amusement dancing in his green eyes as he spoke with a taunting voice.

The woman (whose mahogany skin was decorated with the intricate silver markings that denoted her from Lorule's Royal Family), pushed the Rito's face from hers, her cheeks puffed in a pout as she ducked under his wing, continuing on her way. The Rito followed, still taunting and teasing the retreating woman. Their lightehearted bickering followed them all the way up the stairs, right into Elder Komali's hut.

"Elder Komali, would you please tell Revali that eating wildberries with cheese and some bread is a perfectly good breakfast!"

"It can be if you are imitating a squirrel or a rabbit, perhaps," Revali interjected, that haughty smile still present on his face. "And you already don't eat enough as it is— you need something more fulfilling. Fortunately, I am very well versed in meals that will not only keep you satisfied, but will enhance your abilities. You know, since you're such a weak little Lorellan."

"Oh? And yet this weak, little Lorellan is the one who saved everyone when the fabric of time and space was ripping apart at the seams!" Sirena huffed proudly, crossing her arms. "I don't think someone weak could've done that!"

Revali scoffed, waving a wing. "As I recall, that nearly killed you— you could barely walk or speak coherent sentences for the week after. So it seems my point still stands, Sirena. You should just take my advice— after all, I am a Champion and the—"

"—Pilot to Divine Beast Vah Medoh! You repeat it all the time, Revali!"

"Because you never listen. It seems whatever I say goes in one ear and out the other! At the very least, I will say it enough times that you'll eventually catch something in that ditsy brain of yours."

"You son of a cucco!"

Komali let out another laugh, louder this time. It caught the attention of the trio of Rito in the hut, and he patted his stomach gently as he rocked.

"I am glad to see you're doing so well, Revali— truly." He said, giving the Rito Champion an affectionate smile. "I am very proud to see you so happy and loved."

Revali stiffened, his cheek feathers fluffing up. Kamelia leaned forward, ruffling his head feathers and he swatted her hand away, trying to appear calmer than he was. Sirena took this as an opportunity to tease him, leading to the two bickering once more as they exited the hut, smiles and laughter trailing behind them like the tailwind of a storm. Kamelia left as well, humming softly to herself, and Elder Komali looked into the sky, his heart at ease.

Yes, he did manage to soar higher than anyone else in the village.

He truly did.

Chapter Text

Day 9 and 10: Courtship and Break Up

"Rito Champion Revali— may I have the honor of opening this dance with you?"

She had to be kidding. She absolutely had to be joking.

Revali could already feel the eyes of everyone staring at him expectantly, waiting to see what his next move would be. The ballroom was hushed, the music paused in anticipation of what would happen next. His skin prickled, and he knew if he'd had his feathers, they'd all be standing, responding to the anxiety that was coursing through him right now. Slowly, he curled his fingers into a fist, trying to use the pain from his sharp nails to ground him, bring focus to his mind.

It worked, barely—his green eyes were stuck on the gloved hand extended in front of him, the shade of blue far too close to his own hair and feathers. Slowly, they trailed up towards the expectant amber eyes, a polite— but hopeful, yearning— smile gracing the face he'd thought he'd never see again. Wildberry pink coils framed the round cheeks, and again, he had to tighten his fist to stop himself from running a hand through them, wanting to remind himself and remember how soft they used to feel. From a distance, he could see Zelda waiting, her hands clenched in front of her and her green eyes watching them, hope evident. 

Ah, so that's what this was about.

He thought her request to show up in this Lorellan Rito form was strange, given that it was supposed to be a celebration between the newly emerging allyship between Lorule and Hyrule after five long years of silence. About a month after the fissures began opening back up again, Zelda had summoned him to the castle, mentioning a celebration ball, and that all the Champions were invited to attend. He was going to pass, as he already hated being confined in the large, labrynth-like castle, but Zelda insisted, giving him dancing lessons every day without fail. Then, about a week before the celebration was to begin, she'd made another request— put the choker he received from Mother Maiamai back on and come as a Lorellan Rito. Her reason was interesting; she'd claimed the Lorellan Rito Delegation would feel more comfortable talking to him if he appeared as one of them, as they were already skeptical of Hyrule. He supposed it couldn't hurt, and so, he'd gotten clothes fitted for that body and got dressed at the castle.

Now, seeing how the golden-haired Hylian princess watched him expectantly, all the pieces clicked together. This was planned. This was a long con, and Revali fell for it. He'd been avoiding her for a month, taking every excuse and chance to make sure their paths never crossed. He'd been avoiding staying in Rito Village too long, knowing she would be waiting for him there. He'd been avoiding Hyrule Castle too, only lingering long enough to get whatever orders he needed from Zelda. And though it pained him, he'd been avoiding the Flight Range altogether, knowing if she caught him there, there would be no escape.

His eyes snapped back to hers, to her waiting form in a dress made of starlight and the evening sky. A part of him wanted to reject her— reject her and leave this party, to refuse to play along with this scheme. But he knew if he did that, it would put Princess Zelda and all of Hyrule in a bad spot. He knew snubbing the one and only princess of Lorule would be detrimental to the barely formed allyship, and that was the last thing he wanted. Hyrule had finally recovered from the Calamity, and it would need every resource it could get— even if it meant it was coming from another world.

He watched her apprehensively, seeing the way she scanned him, trying to gauge his emotions, what his choice would be. So she knew as well. She'd known he would be cornered into accepting her hand, and he scowled, watching the hurt flicker in her eyes.

"You're not gonna keep this little princess waiting all day, are ya?" Daruk was on his right, his normally overbearing voice much more quiet. If even he lowered his voice, then the tension must have been really bad. "Go on, buddy!"

"It'll all work out, in some way," Mipha's voice, loud in the charged silence, floated in front of him. She'd been standing near Daruk, but she turned her golden eyes onto him, as steady and sure as the waters she commanded. "Have faith, my dear friend…!"

"Revali. Whatever choice you make, know that it is yours," Urbosa was on his left, and he glanced at her briefly. He could see she was willing to suport him even if he did say no. He appreciated that. "Don't have any regrets; do what you must."

Do what he must… 

Perhaps running was no longer the answer, then. If avoiding her only got him right in front of her, then maybe another path was the right choice. Maybe this…

This was a battlefield. 

Yes, this was just another battlefield for him. He'd heard and seen how the Rito treated courtship, how they danced around the idea of "love". Well, he had never lost a battle before in his life, and he wouldn't begin now. He'd make her give up on him and go back to where she'd chosen to stay. He would be successful in this battle, in this fight, he would emerge victorious and maybe—

Maybe… it would help fill the void that'd been present in his heart since she'd left.

He reached up, schooling his face into neutrality as he grabbed the waiting hand. "I will gladly grant you the honor of a dance, Princess Sirena."

He hated that he was right where she wanted him. He hated the elation that crossed her face. He hated that she tightened her hand around his, as if she would never let him go. He hated that she so easily followed him, so easily matched her steps to his. He hated that she rubbed her fingers gently against her knuckles, that it was soothing to the anxiety that was ever present when he was in the castle. He hated that his hands easily found that familiar place to rest as they turned to each other, waiting for the orchestra to begin its melody.

But mostly, he hated that he was far too happy to see her again. To hold her again.

The first few notes of the orchestra began, and like he'd practiced, he began leading her, his hands gently pushing and pulling, her feet following the path his left for her. No one else danced with them, save for Link and Zelda. He supposed it was some Hylian or Lorellan custom, somehting to do with status. Princess Zelda had explained it to him before, but he was rarely interested in their customs. Now, he wished he had— all the eyes on him, all the attention on him when for once, he didn't want it, made the anxiety within him spike, his eyes flicking around to find somewhere to look that wasn't her. But this dance forced close contact between the Lead and the Follow, forced him to lower his head and his eyes and look at her.

Her eyes were watching him intensely, as if she were searching for something. He could see the hope dimly lit in them as she stared at him. Revali scoffed, annoyance flaring to life in his chest. What right did she have to look at him that way? Not when she was the one who'd caused this rift between them in the first place…!

"I'm not asking." he said quietly, arm raising to spin her underneath it. She returned to standard position, a confused look on her face as she tilted her head slightly.

"What?" she seemed surprised to hear him speak. "What are you talking about?"

"If you are expecting me to ask questions and have a polite conversation with you, don't." the Rito Champion knew he was being far too unpleasant, but with few people around to hear, he assumed he would get away with it. "It's far too late for that, Sirena."

"I wasn't, if you must know," she huffed, following along with Revali as he spun and twirled, the duo exchanging places with the dancers that were beginning to join. "I was simply… staring."

"You're still a terrible liar— five years hasn't changed that," Revali said, trying to stamp down the amusement that rose in him at Sirena's annoyed face.

The duo blended into the whirling and rotating circles of partnered dancers, but it mattered nothing to him— the only thing he could focus on was Sirena, the feel of her hands around his shoulder and in his own, the sound of her heart beating wildly, the feel of her breath on his neck every time she stepped forward to follow his movements. He'd told himself he wouldn't let it affect him— that he would get this dance over with and then leave. Sirena would return to Lorule eventually. And once she did, he could put this behind him and pretend as if seeing her again wasn't like getting the wind under his wings, like he was finally returning home after a long battle. He could snuff every one of these feelings out and return to the life he had before— the one without her and the chance for her to hurt him again.

"Speaking of change— I didn't think you'd still remember the steps to this dance…" She muttered, an affectionate smile blooming softly on her face. "It's quite complicated, so for you to remember after all this time…"

"I didn't. Zelda forced me to practice with her everyday for a month," Revali scoffed, his expert eyes catching the flash of jealousy that sparked in hers. 

His lips quirked upward in amusement. He always found her irrational jealousy of the time he spent with Zelda cute, despite her knowing how head over heels the Hylian princess was for that knight of hers—

Wait, no.

No.

He was not supposed to find her cute— he was not supposed to be feeling anything for her. He was supposed to be distant and formal! He was supposed to be convincing her to give up on him, to stamp out any hope that there would ever be something between them. He wasn't supposed to be enjoying this time with her— he wasn't supposed to be wishing the song never ended, that the dance never ended. That he wouldn't have to let her go again.

"Well, I find it funny, in a way— five years ago, we were in completely different poisitions," Sirena comtinued, gripping his hand as she spun away from him, out of his reach. There was a nostalgic look in her amber eyes as she returned to standard position, gliding across the ballroom with him. "We were dancing that time as well… And I don't think neither of us were happy. Not when I hadn't wanted to be there and you—"

"I'm not doing this." Revali cut in, his eyes narrowing. 

He couldn't do it again. He'd spent too many nights walking down that same path, living and reliving the memories over and over again, desperately holding onto the curve of her smile, the way the light shined on her hair, the way she walked, the sound of her voice— he refused to do it anymore. 

He especially refused to do it with her. "Let's just get this dance over with and go our separate ways."

He heard her scoff, her hand falling from his as they stepped to the side, their backs facing each other. "Right, how could I forget? The Rito Champion is far too proud to think about anything else other than fighting and training, especially matters of the heart. Instead, he runs when forced to deal with his emotions."

"Run? Me?" Another step, this time facing each other. He pinned her with a glare as he gripped her waist, trapping her with him. "That's quite bold of you to say that, Sirena, when you're the one who ran first!"

"I didn't run, Revali— I was doing my duty!" Sirena snapped, her hand tightening on his. "You of all people should know what it means to be beholden to duty. It's all you ever did, day in and day out!"

"Yes, I do— but here's where you and I differ." A spin, a step back to the left; the tempo had picked up, and they were practically flying across the marble floor, their bodies winding through the dancers that crowded onto the space. "I never let my duty come between those I cared about and my own goals."

"That's a lie!" Sirena's voice rose, echoing around her as she followed his steps— backstep, spin, halfstep, spin, step forward— "You're lying, and I know it!"

"Am not!"

"Are too!"

He could see the fire in her amber eyes as she glared him, their hands holding each other's tightly as they whirled, arms stretched out. 

"Your duty to Princess Zelda and the other Champions was the only thing that mattered to you." There was a hint of bitterness in her voice as she spoke. "You'd made it clear every day that you were the proud pilot to Divine Beast Vah Medoh and that nothing, absolutely nothing could come between you and that!"

"Because I at least knew what I stood for— I didn't let others dictate what I should and shouldn't believe in!" He retorted back, pulling her far closer than the dance neccessitated. "Face it, Sirena, you never knew what you wanted, and you made it everyone else's problems!"

Crack!

She'd tried to step on his foot, slamming her heel down onto the ground with more force than needed, but he knew her too well— he'd seen it coming and pirouetted them past her intentional mistake.

"You know I'd had no choice in that, so how dare you!" She'd hissed through gritted teeth. "Goddess, you're so vain! You can never be wrong about anything— no wonder you were always alone!"

"Well you're right— I'm never wrong. It isn't my fault everyone else is too ignorant to realize their own faults." Revali couldn't help the satisfied amusement that rose in him at Sirena's irritation, trying to ignore the pricks from the words she hurled at him. "I would rather be vain and alone than a weak-willed crybaby like someone else."

Their arms were locked together in an X-shape, the ballroom blurring as they spun, their feet moving in time with the tempo that picked up once more. Everything else fell away as they whirled— the music, the dancers, the onlookers. His eyes and ears picked up on it all, but it was no better than white noise as he drank in every detail in front of him: the movement of her dress shimmering like stars in the night sky, the way the light bounced off of her wildberry pink hair as it billowed around her face; the hard set of her jaw and the burning flame in her amber eyes as she processed what he said; the burning of her cheeks and tips of her ears, betraying how she truly felt.

"You arrogant cucco!" Sirena snapped. 

Revali scoffed, eyebrows furrowing. "Ditsy coward!"

"Egotistical, arrogant, ignorant loner!"

"Silly, clumsy, scatterbrained idiot!"

"Well you're bitter!"

"At least I'm not a naive fool!"

"And you're a dull-taloned Softwing!"

"You take that back!" He pulled her back into standard position, his hold on her hand tight and his arm practically crushing her against him. "You know I'm the best fighter amongst the Rito!"

"I never said you were dull-taloned in fighting, you vain bird!" She huffed, but there was a special kind of haughtiness in it that always got under Revali's feathers. "And I won't take it back, since it's true!"

"Take. It. Back." he seethed, lowering his forehead and glaring right into her eyes. She narrowed them. 

"I. Won't."

The silence between them was charged, electrified as his body moved on autopilot, his muscle memory taking over as his focus zeroed in on Sirena. Her jaw was clenched, her amber eyes narrowed as she returned his heated stare back to him. His heart beat rapidly, his chest rising with every deep breath he took. How was it that within a mere dance, within a few minutes, she managed to rile him up like this? Even five years ago she managed to bulldoze her way through every carefully curated defense he'd had up over the years. And now, one month later, she once again thwarted every move he'd made.

"If I'm so dull-taloned, then tell me this, Sirena: why?" he spat, his voice strained and trembling as he tried to keep his emotions in check. "Why did you bother coming back? You left us— left me…! I chased after you to another country— another world! I chased you all the way to Lorule, all the way into the castle and stood against them for you! I didn't do that because it was duty, like you're so eager to claim, I did it because I thought we mattered to you!" 

His jaw snapped shut, the lump in his throat blocking out the words that he'd been holding in since the day she'd thrown them out of Lorule— the day she'd turned her back on him and everything between them. He tore his eyes away from hers, barely catching the guilt-filled hurt that flashed through them.

"I thought… at least I mattered enough… Enough for you to not…"

He'd tried to avoid her, and she cornered him with schemes and politics.

He tried to scare her off, and she fought back with renewed vigor, turning his own words onto him.

He'd tried insults, he tried distance, he tried everything! 

But all it did was reveal to him that truly, nothing had changed. He hadn't changed, not one bit…

He was still terribly, horrifically, madly in love with her, no matter how much he tried to deny it.

"Revali…" Her voice was much softer, a soothing shiver going down his spine at the sound of his name in her voice. "Revali, look at me."

He waited a beat, taking a deep breath and dragged his eyes back to her. There were a million emotions swirling in hers, each moving too fast for him to decipher.

"I—"

She'd shifted backwards, following along with the beat of the symphony being played, but she'd stepped too far back— her heel slipped, ankle twisting in the wrong direction, her balance thrown off and her body veering towards the ground. Her eyes widened, registering what happened, but it was too alte to correct. Revali moved on autopilot, his hands gripping her thigh and holding it in place against him. His arm went around her back, pulling her against his chest, and with no effort, he lifted her slightly, the toe of her heel dragging along the ground as he spun in a circle. He could feel the wild beating of Sirena's heart, feel her arms trembling as she held onto him, her face inches from his. Her breath brushed against his lips, a tease and temptation he fought against taking. Her wildberry pink hair framed them, blocking his sight and keeping his focus on her, only her—

The world slowed, fell away, melted into blurred colors, the music was muted, warbling, as they spiraled, once, twice, three times. 

It was funny, in a way… five years ago, his world had shifted, slowly moving to revolve around her. And now, exactly five years later, he was back to spinning around her, as if she was the sun.

Gently, he set her down, and belatedly, he realized the song was over. Bit by bit, the area crystallized, sounds and sights flooding back in, voices crashing over one another as they commented on the stellar display he and Sirena had put on. His heart threatened to explode, breaking through his ribcage as he kept his hands on Sirena, sliding them up to rest on her waist. She hadn't moved hers, either. They were still against his neck, gentle and quivering, as if she were afraid he would disappear when she let go.

The silence between them was quiet, muted. Neither of them moved, but Sirena spoke, soft and scared, unsure and timid.

"You and everyone else… you all did matter to me, Revali. You do matter." she rubbed her tumb soothingly into his neck, and he felt his eyelids drop in comfort. "That's why I came back. Because you matter, more than anything else. And… I'm sorry. I'm sorry it took me so long."

Revali opened his eyes halfway, watching as she leaned forward, her lips barely pressing against his, the whisper of them grazing against his own and leaving him wanting more.

This was dangerous. 

He needed to leave before his last defense, his last wall crumbled and dissolved and left him unguarded against her— left him vulnerable once more.

He'd let go, taking a large step back. He could see the hurt flash in her eyes, but it wasn't enough to make him stay— or was it? Did he want to stay? Did he need space? What did he want?

"I…" His voice fumbled as he tried to find the words he wanted. But nothing came to mind, his thoughts swirling about like a lost bird in a storm. So he turned, stalking towards the nearest exit.

Link and Zelda were waiting for him, uncomfortable expressions on their faces. The Hylian princess reached an hand out to him, a guilty look in her green eyes. "Revali—"

"Don't." He mustered the harshest glare he could, freezing them on the spot. "Just… Don't."

Behind, he could hear Sirena's footsteps clicking across the ballroom— away from him— he could hear Queen Hilda's awkward sentences, Sirena cutting her off with a barely held together "I'm fine." But he didn't stop to check on her, didn't turn to chase her. He needed the space to think, to clear his head. 

Because he'd lost this battle. He hated to admit it, but he'd lost this battle. He'd never had a chance of winning, not when he was against Sirena. Not when she was the only one who could rile him up and soothe him in one sweep. Not when she knew exactly what to say and do, how to truly read how he was feeling, despite his bravado and his vanity. She knew him too well, far better than he knew himself. It was asinine of him to think he could win against her. He let out a lifeless laugh as he leaned against the wall, catching the cool breeze that swept through the castle. 

So there was no other option for him now. No matter what he did, he always ended up back with her…

Revali tried to deny it, but he still wanted her. Goddess, did he still want her. Five years didn't make him want her less, and being with her now…

From his perch, he could spy her, listlessly wandering the garden, her fingers caressing against the closed buds of the flowers. She slumped against the ground, curled in on herself and shielding her head from the rest of the world. At this angle, he reminded her of a lost, lonely star, he dressed billowed out and clashing with the soft, vibrant colors around her. Even now, this far from her, he felt drawn to her, felt the urge to rush down to her and hold her and tell her everything would be alright.

Yes, he wanted her— he may have lost this battle, but he wouldn't lose the war in this courtship. Sirena had said he mattered to her, that she was sorry— so she was going to have to show it. She had five years to make up for, and he'd make her work for each one she'd missed. He'd said it earlier, and he'd say it again— giving up and failure were never options for him. He would win this, and he would have her.

Sirena would have to learn the hard way what courtship was like for a Rito, and he hoped she was prepared for it.

Chapter Text

Day 11: Weapon

Thunk! Thunk! Thunk!

Komali frowned as he stood near the practice area, wings crossed and eyes tracking the little body that swung the (quite larger than him) sword around, hitting the training dummy with imperfect strikes. The sounds of heavy breathing snipped through the Hebra air as the young Rito swung again and again, metal sinking into the wood- and feathered-filled sacks the younger warriors-in-training practiced with. The blue feathers were slick with sweat and melted snow, with blood from the cuts that were sure to burrow past his feathers and into his skin from the constant swinging. The area around him was bare, the snow kicked up into a familiar path as he swung again and again and—

"Ah…!"

This swing was too rough, too much force behind it. The weight of the weapon dragged the body backwards— it clattered to the wooden floor, skittering off right towards Komali. He picked it up, noting it certainly was their training weapons… and yet it was still too much for him.

Komali's blue eyes glanced up, watching as the blue-feathered fletchling got to his feet, green eyes burning with resentment and frustration and determination to do better, to be better, no matter the cost or harm that befell him. He stumbled over to Komali, no doubt ready to get his weapon back and try again. But it would be a fruitless effort… At least, for now it would be.

Ronado had told him about the young fletchling who'd been eyeing the guards, his eyes filled with awe and aspiration. He was certainly old enough to join, and the village Elder had been told about his determined efforts to practice every day before the trials began for formal training. However… he would have a lot to catch up on. Most Rito who were interested in becoing a part of the guard were well acquainted with those who were already a part of it; they'd been training for far longer and received tips and training that almost guaranteed they would succeed. Him, however… Komali's mind flashed with a memory— an image of a smiling Rito, his bright golden feathers shining in the sun as he danced through the practice, his sword gleaming and shimmering as it sliced and diced through practice dummies, his green eyes daring and determined as he gracefully swung through reckless move after reckless move, daring any to try and stop him…

Yes, this young one was a diamond in the rough. It was there, inside of him.

"Can I have that back?" The high pitched voice, already guarded and defensive, said. Komali held it up higher than the young Rito could reach. "Listen, I'm busy, so can you—"

"I have a question for you, young one."

He put the practice sword back with the rest, then turned to face the chagrined Rito, who shoved past Komali and snatched the sword back out. He only gave him a scathing glare as he took up the basic position once more, his wings aching and trembling with effort to keep the sword up. he returned to the clunky, yet practiced swings from before, and Komali hummed, tilting his head.

"Is there a reason you are out here, far before the sun has risen?"

The young Rito didn't answer him, continuing the swings with renewed effort. Again, Komali could see it— he had the dedication, the raw power to excel far beyond his peers. What he needed was discipline, someone to help him direct that power into getting as far as he could go. And…

Komali plucked the weapon from his wings, watching him stumble and fall backwards; he caught him, catching the grateful look before it was overshadowed by angry defiance.

"Hey! I'm trying to practice! Get away from me old man!!" the blue-feathered Rito squirmed, slipping and tumbliing from Komali's deep purple wings. He hit the ground, then scrambled to his feet, the shorter wings grabbing for the sword. Komali shook his head, holding the sword form his reach. "Ugh!! Give— it— back!!"

"I will, but tell me— why did you choose this weapon in particular, Revali?"

The blue-feathered Rito stilled, his green eyes widening in panic and flicking around. But there was no one else there, since it was far too early in the morning for most Rito— even the ones who were naturally prone to rise before the sun's rays crested the horizon were still sleeping away peacefully in their hammocks. And sure, it was an absolute requirement that all Rito warriors learn the basics in every manner of fighting, but Komali could tell— there was more to it than that. This was personal to him, to this young fletchling.

"… I heard that… there was a Rito Warrior who specialized in swordplay." he huffed quietly, crossing his wings as he looked away, trying to appear calmer than his puffing feathers betrayed. "The other warriors talked about him. Said there was no one better."

His heart sank. He knew it.

Rito Village was small— no more than 50 or 60 Rito at a time, though there were smaller villages elsewhere in Hebra. But it didn't surprise Komali at all that he would eventually hear of him. He'd been beloved throughout the village, a warm and welcoming soul with the brightest personality he'd ever witnessed… No one ever had a negative thing to say of him, and if they did, it was often underlaced with resigned amusement.

He missed him dearly…

But that wasn't what needed to be dealt with right now. If Komali wasn't careful, Revali would fall into a dangerous trap of self-loathing and resentment, of feeling as if he would never escape the shadow of the other, always drowning in it and feeling as though he were chasing an unobtainable dream— of letting the ghost of a goal slip through his wings, no matter how hard he tried to hold onto it. It would build and build, and like a poison, it would corrode him from the inside out, leaving him a former shell of himself with nothing but bitterness to call his friend. The Rito Elder was far too familiar with what that did to someone… what it had almost done to himself.

He couldn't let that happen to this young one— not to him, of all Rito.

Komali's grip tightened on the sword, and he tossed it, right over the edge of the cliffs surrouding them. Revali let out a cry of shock, rushing to watch as it careened to the river far below them. He turned, all the feathers on his body puffing, as if he were asking for a fight. But Komali remained calm.

"What is your problem?!" He stood, marching over to him as he pointed one finger at him. The Village Elder said nothing, instead moving toward the remaining weapons. "Why'd you toss it, you… you… senile bird brain! Flightless fowl! Rotten poultry legs!"

The young Rito behind him kept throwing insults as he squawked, ranging from a "soft-wing shoebill" to "a dull-taloned Cucco lover" (where'd he hear that one???). Komali snorted at the hopping dance he did, his feathers puffed and attempting to make him look larger that he truly was. He did give a sigh of annoyance at the pecks that were being put into his side, and if it wasn't for how much he saw him in Revali, he'd be executing much tougher love on him. Though perhaps it wouldn't hurt to give him one good whack…

Instead, he tossed the Swallow Bow towards him, watching as he clumsily caught it. Next came the quiver of arrows, a few spilling out and rolling around on the snowy floor. The young fletchling gave him an inquisitive stare, one golden eyebrow raised as if to ask if he were joking. Komali picked up a Falcon Bow, slinging a quiver around his waist as well.

"You can't be serious, can you…?" the young Rito's eyes flicked towards the bow in the Rito Elder's hands. "Are you… really going to fight me…?!"

Komali scoffed, raising his bow, and watched as Revali tensed, trying to keep his composure and followed his movements. Hm, it wasn't bad. His posture was rough around the edges, but was a near copy of his own, down to the placement of his feet and the way his fingers held the bowstring gently. He was right to toss the sword and give him this one isntead. His eyesight was impeccable— quite honestly the most perceptive eyes he'd ever seen. The sword strikes on the practice dummies may have been uncoordinated, sloppy even, but it wasn't how hard he struck that got his attention. It was where. Every place was where a vital organ would be located, every move he made was a mimicry of the Rito Warriors' own seasoned practice. Simply by watching, he had managed to distill the essence of their moves and replicate to a near exact copy. That kind of ability would be hard to find in anyone else. Those kinds of eyes and that sharp of a mind was a once-in-a-generation kind of talent.

Komali lowered his bow, and the blue-feathered Rito did the same. But Komali clicked his tongue, pushing his hands back into position.

"Not yet— hold that position for a bit." Komali circled him, and he could see his green eyes (so similar to his) following him as far as he could. But the Rito Elder only corrected what he could— a shift to his feet here, an adjusting of his shoulders there— before pointing at the practice target further away. "Go ahead. Hit it."

He saw the disbelief cross his eyes, but Komali raised his bow once more, two arrows loaded up. With no hesitation, he released them, watching as they followed a familiar path and striking the center of the target. He looked back at the young Rito, even giving him a slightly haughty look, a dare dancing in his eyes to do better than him. He could see the ire rising in his eyes, the determination to do better than he had.

He scoffed, pulling his own string back, and with one swoop—

He missed the target.

Komali crossed his arms, tilting his head as if to say, I know that wasn't the best you can do. So he watched as the blue feathered Rito loaded another arrow, this time its sharp edge skirting the edge of the target. Another one, and it hit the target this time, albeit barely. He could see the frustration growing on the young Rito's face, so he waited until he fired his next arrow— much closer to the center— then held a wing up to stop.

"This is much better for you. A sword in the hands of someone who doesn't want it will never be able to cut any deeper than that." Komali patted his shoulder, smiling gently. "Don't try to chase the ghost of someone else, Revali— instead, chase the potential of your future."

He could see the gears turning in his head, his fingers slowly curling and uncurling around the bow. The other hand fiddled with the arrow that hung loosely between his fingers, no doubt considering his options.

Komali would leave it for now; he shouldn't push too hard, after all. Even if he chose not to take his advice, he would still support him—

Thwap! Thwap! Thwap!

A small smile graced his beak as he returned to the village proper, leaving behind the sounds of a new wind blowing through the village.