Chapter Text
"Get in and stay in," the guard growls as he throws a boy too young to be an adult, yet too old to be a child into a near-ancient cell. The boy receives a new scrape from the unkempt, rough prison floor as the soldier calls him "scum" under his breath. Slamming the barred gate shut so hard it might break the next time it is opened, the guard gives the young man one last look of disgust before locking the door tightly and turning away. The declared-felon slumps against the wall of his new home to take notice of his surroundings. The only traces of the outside world is the piling dirt on the floor, the rodents who reside in the small holes in the brick wall, and the mud stuck to the bottom of his bare feet (if that counts). He then looks himself over: a deep cut has started to scab on the right side of his face, still-bleeding remnants of prior whippings lace his pale back, his knees bruised and cut from digging them roughly into the stone, and the taste of blood standing firm in his mouth.
The only thing he can think is "I want to sleep."
What feels like hours pass by as he tries to find a comfortable resting position on the stone floor. The guard passes by his cell every now and then, not even giving him a lick of notice. It is late into the night when he notices the crack in the left wall of his small, rectangular cell, and he only notices because of the low, whispering voice slipping out of it.
"Hey, you're the fresh meat, right?"
Link did not come here to make friends. He did not come here to speak to strangers through cracks in the wall. In fact, he did not come here on his own will at all. But he still replies, "I guess that I am."
"Well," the voice turns friendlier, happy to have a response. "Welcome to hell."
"I wasn't aware that I died," Link jokes, crawling closer to the wall.
"Wait 'till you've been here as long as I have," there is a smile in his voice, "then you will want to die. Anyways, suicidal thoughts and the fact that we're convicted criminals aside, my name is Ravio," he introduces himself quite bluntly, "and I'm in here for theft."
"That's not a very serious crime," Link responds, slightly puzzled, "why have you been in here long?"
"I steal because I have no money, so why would anyone I'm friends with have enough to bail me out?" Ravio laughs, and leans back.
"That makes sense, I suppose."
"So?" his voice too perky for the situation, "whatcha in here for?"
"Murder," Link responds, and Ravio "hm"s, slightly impressed. "But I didn't do it. I was wrongly convicted."
"Aw, and I was just getting interested." He laughs, leaning closer to the crack in the wall that they communicate through. "And if you don't tell me your name, I'll have to make up a name for you."
"Link," the blonde boy replies, defeated. "And do you, by any chance, have anything to stop bleeding?"
"Oof. Whipped ya and everything?" The darker-skinned of the two shakes his head, smiling sadly, although his partner in conversation cannot see his face. "Use the end of your pants. Rip off the edges, I mean. They don't care if we bleed out, obviously." He is pleased to hear the sound of fabric ripping from the other side of the wall; pleased that Link took his advice.
"Thank you, I think." Link says after using his own blood as glue and placing strips of fabric over the gashes on his back. "Ravio, was it?"
"The one and only."
"How late do you think it is?"
"You ask a lot of questions, don'tcha? Can't say I blame you. Lots of change goin' on for you right now, I'm guessing." Ravio's voice gets quieter as he notices for himself that it is late. "Tell you what, let's try to sleep now, and I'll answer your questions tomorrow."
"Sounds good to me."
"In return, you gotta tell me who you killed." Ravio laughs after he says this, however, Link's stomach knots.
"I didn't kill anyone."
"Right, right. I forgot about that part. Listen buddy, don't sweat it. Let's save our voices for tomorrow, okay?"
Link lies down on the floor again, but rests his head closest to the wall with the split in it.
"Okay?" Ravio repeats.
"Got it, okay." Link responds, finally.
"Goodnight, fresh meat."
The rest of the night is spent in a state of being almost asleep, but not quite. Link can hear other prisoners snoring loudly, while others cry quietly for specific reasons he does not know. Not a peep sounds from the crack in the wall – from Ravio's cell, and Link silently sends his prayers that at least his new friend is sleeping well. He drifts in and out of strange dreams, but nothing he really pays much attention to, considering most dreams are strange.
Upon groggily waking the next morning, Link wonders if he has ever had a completely normal dream.