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All the Links had a great need for privacy. The ones who could write wrote journals, usually complete with a lock to ensure it wasn’t seen by prying eyes. The ones who couldn’t write drew, graphite and inks staining each page in a flood of feeling. No matter what, they all had their own ways and no matter what, everything remained confidential.
Busy mornings happened. Less often were busy evenings, but still they came. Ambushes, sudden rainfall, thunderstorms leaving them scrambling to remove armour and stow weapons away: it had all happened two or three times. This particular night, it was a rush to pile everything in one place and have anything useful in hand before an unusually crazed battalion of moblins made their way to the meticulously prepared camp. They broke into some sort of formation, but by this point, they were all used to fighting around each other.
Going to sleep without a true meal had become something they were accustomed to. Though they won with minimal injury, the altercation had lasted a while, the sun below the horizon by the time they had settled. Something from Wild’s slate was passed around. Before long, everyone except Legend, who was on watch, was asleep. The sounds of pen on paper lulled most of them to sleep, ignoring the sound of torn paper and muffled footsteps.
Warriors’ watch was skipped, Legend scribbling too furiously at a notebook to notice the time.
The sun rose far too quickly, the morning light blinding as unadjusted eyes opened. Sorting through the hastily shoved-aside equipment from the night before was the first task of the morning. Ranging in importance, some belongings were snatched whilst others were gently taken from the pile. One of the seized possessions was Warriors’ diary. He had not intended to leave it out – and it was unlocked! With a frantic flip through the pages, a scrap of pink-ish paper danced its way to his lap. Bringing it to his face to read, he quickly recognised the handwriting – he'd know it from anywhere. The Veteran™, Mr Six-Adventures, King of Sarcasm had slipped him a note in secrecy. Even if it was, usefully, signed ‘Link’, the script was a dead giveaway.
‘Don’t leave your diary open next time. If you ever want someone to talk to, you know who I am.
Don’t be stupid.
-Link.’
Despite the passive aggressiveness of the note, he smiled. Even if Legend and he had their differences in opinion, they each had their reasons, even if that led to the two of them arguing over dinner at times, petty insults hurled back and forth.
Following a particularly tough day in his own Hyrule, Warriors decided he’d take Legend up on his offer. A fight had broken out between a group of 5 soldiers, leaving 2 injured and one on the verge of death. The captain had been the one to break the attack, yet couldn’t get the image out of his mind. Seeing injury inflicted in war was so very different to watching one of your own hurt your fellow soldier. With the image burned into his mind, he couldn’t sleep.
Speaking with Legend was strange, considering his usual snide was replaced by a hint of care. While there was still the occasional sarcastic remark, he was clearly concerned for his teammate. Convincing the captain to clear his mind was the longest sector due to his surprising stubbornness. When eventually his dam broke and everything flooded away, Legend realised exactly how much Warriors had needed to hear that.
The next time he saw the Veteran one-on-one, he was immediately called a ‘stupid rich pretty-boy' but he didn’t mind it. In fact, it was the nicest thing he’d heard in a while.