nyastri

Confused but (somewhat) trying

You can call me Nyastri or Astri. I'm just a writer who loves angst. My ao3 is also Nyastri

177 posts

Febuwhump Suggestion For Hostage Situation If I May

Febuwhump suggestion for “hostage situation” if I may

Ravio being held captive by some villain? (Preferably resurrected Yuga for angst?)

As someone who STILL hasn't played ALBW (I tried!) I wasn't able to swing Yuga. i'm not sure how I would do that, but... I may have figured out something else? Don't worry, Ravio still suffers >:)

Rating: Teen

Wordcount: 7,066

Summary: Mister Hero never goes unarmed, and Ravio discovers just WHY when an old enemy from his friend's life reappears and mistakes him for Link. Perhaps, when Mister Hero gets back, he's going to ask for fighting lessons. That is, if he survives the gladiator's arena.

(Note: LoZ Manga references. You don't need to know much, just that Legend is, in the manga, a gladiatorial champion.)

There’s one rule Mister Hero has always kept: do not stray from the house without a weapon.

He’s laughed at the other for it a few times, during the time when they shared the home, and sickness, injury, or exhaustion had stopped the hero from being out and about fulfilling their work. He’d felt guilty, at times, for letting the other lad do everything, so on the days when Mister Hero did decide to allow himself to relax a bit, he’d tried to make them enjoyable. He took on most of the work of cooking and keeping the house anyways, and doing the tiniest bit extra to accommodate the hero was hardly any burden, what with how much work the other was doing for him. Even on rest days though, Mister Hero has never been one to sit idle. Provided he didn’t end up sleeping the day away out of exhaustion, he would typically slip out to tend the garden and orchard to ensure the coming harvest wasn’t lost, and trips to the market also came about to restock the house’s spacious pantry.

The market in Kakariko is so much nicer than those in Thieves Town, which were always louder, dangerous, and usually somewhat violent. The people of Hyrule, in comparison to Lorule, are a peaceful sort, so seeing Mister Hero arm himself before leaving the house had been odd.

“You’re not returning to the road already, are you?” He’d asked.

Honest eyes had turned to him, stare heavy, and trying so hard to find something to focus on, what with Ravio’s own face still having been covered at the time. “No.”

“Then why are you arming yourself?” He’d asked. He'd already explored the area around the house, including the village, and while the roads between could be a bit rough, it was never anything that couldn’t be avoided. A sword seemed to be overkill.

“Why aren’t you?” Mister Hero had stared at him. He'd been to Lorule already at that point, so perhaps it made sense that he’d presume Ravio would feel a similar need to prepare against a foe, but the merchant was doing no such thing.

Sure, he has a knife, but he doesn’t really use it unless he really needs to, and even then, it’s mostly just for a quick stab or slice so he can have time to get away. He's never been much of a fighter, and no one had wanted to teach him either, saying he was too small to handle a weapon, or fight at all. Now that he’s met Mister Hero, he knows that’s all poppycock, since the hylian wields many a weapon with skill superior to the average knight, despite being even smaller than Ravio is- if only by an inch or so. Still, he doesn’t really want to learn to fight, and finding favor at the castle had meant he hasn’t needed to since his early childhood, working for Hilda usually keeps him well away from anyone and anyone who wanted to harm him. There were some more aggressive persons in the castle, but the threat of the queen’s wrath was too great for them to risk anything.

“Kakraiko is safe,” he’d answered, voice warm to convey a smile the hero couldn’t see. “Why would I need to?”

“Danger can appear anywhere,” and something had snapped behind violet eyes, “you shouldn’t relax your guard just because it looks safe.”

The words have stuck with him since then. Granted, he’s not faced much since, staying mainly at the house while Mister hero had tended to their mission, but after it was over, and they’d parted ways, he’d not strayed much from the castle. He’s kept to his own and in spaces shielded by magic, so weapons weren’t something he needed. Granted, when he’d taken the portal that opened to him in the castle, tumbling out into a new era and meeting a new hero, he had been called upon to fight at times, and he had had a weapon then, but he’s really not the aggressive sort. Fighting isn’t in his nature any more than sitting still is in Mister Hero’s.

Now returned safely to his own era by a very apologetic Lana, he’s taken up his old habits from living in Hyrule. He’s got his knife, of course, because after that one time, Mister Hero had taken to asking him, at random times, if he was armed. The hero is obsessive about it, but then again, he is about many things.

Once it was all over and Yuga had been defeated, but before they’d gone their separate ways, he’d seen Mister Hero actually fully disarm for the first time. They’d been exhausted by the day; its emotions, the battle, and just everything. There was an intent to close the connection between their worlds, but Hilda had promised them some time. He’s thankful for it too, although that day had been simultaneously one of the worst and best in his life.

They’d gone back to the house, both awkward with each other and not speaking at all until abruptly Mister Hero had announced that he would be having a bath. His joints ached from the fight and he needed to relax, so he’d drawn a bath into the wooden tub he kept in the house, set before the fire to keep it warm, and while Ravio had had every intention of leaving him to his privacy (goodness knows he had no room to disrespect such a thing after all his fuss about his hood!) he’d sort of gotten distracted when he’d seen the hero disarming. First the sword and belt had come off. They weren’t put away though but set on the floor close enough to reach from in the tub, which really had been a very clear indicator of how wary and distrustful a person his hero is. After those then had been the knives; he thinks there must have been at least a dozen hidden beneath the clothes of the hero, and even after those were all set aside, there came the medallions, the rings, the earrings with protective magic, the magic infused tunics, the boots. He'd left when clothes started coming off, because Mister Hero had asked, rather flustered as he’s fiddled with the buttons of his shift, if Ravio was intending to ogle him the whole time and he’d hurried out as answer.

Really though, it came as a bit of a shock to realize just how much in the ways of weapons and defensive tools the hero carried.

He doesn’t see a need for that though. He keeps the knife, but nothing else. He’s not a fighter, he’ll never be a fighter, and he doesn’t have any wish to either.

Sometimes, looking at the home buried under a decade’s worth of adventures, he wonders if Mister Hero ever wanted it either, but it’s sort of a null point now, considering there’s really no changing things. Even if he wanted too, he doesn’t think Mister Hero is capable of spending any part of his life without at least one weapon in easy reach at all times.

It’s fine though. As the hero, it makes sense that his housemate is armed, and him being able to defend himself is important in his line of work. Ravio, however, has no such needs. Any enemies he’s made, he’s left them behind in Lorule, and there’s no way for them to slip across to get at him now. The house is well guarded at all times, between the magic twined through the trees and the bees that sting anything and anyone that they deem a threat. Out in town, he’s got the good sense to be aware of his surroundings, but fighting, even with people who want to harm him, isn’t really necessary. He’s fast enough to evade blows and slip out of their clutches in the case of anyone actually wanting to hurt him, and again, that’s very rare, especially once they get the idea that he’s not worth the trouble.

Since returning to Hyrule, there’s really been no trouble whatsoever, so maybe he is slightly to blame for having let his guard drop. Yes, if he’d only been a bit more aware- but he hadn’t and now Mister Hero is definitely never going to relax about his safety ever again.

He’s on the road, headed to the market to fill the pantry again. It’s not that it ever really empties, but Mister Hero always likes to keep it full to brimming on the off chance of not being able to restock for one reason or another. Illness, war and sometimes his own safety are some of the reasons he’s cited for not being able to get out, or shop for food. He thinks there’s maybe more to it, maybe something to do with the hero’s stunted growth, but he doesn’t ask. If anything, he’s just as happy to make sure they never run out of food, as Lorule hadn’t exactly been the most prosperous place to live either.

The roads aren’t any worse than normal, and now that Yuga and Ganon aren’t an issue anymore, teh soldiers are no longer nearly as aggressive. They've tamed some, and between the efforts of the hero and Hyrule’s princess, they’d begun training new knights who’ve never known the touch of dark magic that so altered the minds of their former defenders. Link is still chased down, of course, but Ravio himself is at no risk, and he’s able to simply slip past the patrolling soldiers with a brief wave on his way down the path. The younger of the two men nods in answer, but neither stop in their route back to the castle. Just the same, he doesn’t stop on his way to Kakariko.

Celeste, the elder’s wife, had let slip that traders from out Holodrum way were traveling through the kingdom and would likely stop at the village before heading on the Castletown, and after hearing Mister Hero rave about the fruits found in the other kingdom, he’s determined to see if he can’t find some to serve when next his doppelganger and companions arrive back in this time. It’ll be a delightful treat! He hasn’t really seen the hero smile in a bit, and he’s sure he can maybe get him to crack even the smallest of smiles if he makes something especially good.

Then again, he could just make cocoa, but honestly, he needs to expand his arsenal!

His attention is sort of on trying to estimate the cost of imported fruits and remembering if they have any recopies for them anywhere (he could just ask, but it would ruin the surprise) so he doesn’t exactly notice until it’s too late that he’s been being followed. Really, he wouldn’t have noticed at all if a hand didn’t suddenly catch ahold of him, grip far too strong to be ignored and making him stumble in his steps.

“Excuse me-” some offended comment is about to drop from his lips, but he doesn’t exactly get a chance to finish it. Something soft, but with a strong smell is suddenly thrust over his nose and mouth and the merchant finds that any and all words drift out of his mind, thoughts fading all together as darkness steals there place.

Whomever it was that had grabbed him, he sags into their hold as his final action before his consciousness is lost.

Coming to, he sort of expects... well, he’s not sure. His head is throbbing and fuzzy, but there’s the vague inclination that usually, when the advisor to a queen is captured, they’ll wake up to...well, not this!

He's seen the torture chambers in Lorule Castle, and through no fault of his own, is aware of the Sheikah equivalent in Hyrule. He knows that when it comes to people in his position, no time is wasted on the off chance that a noble sends out a rescue of some sort, so if it’s information that’s wanted, well, he’d be waking up in a good deal more pain than he actually does. Blinking his eyes open though, he’s not in a dungeon. Sure, there’s stone walls and a (probably) locked door, but the sunlight that bleeds in through a small, glass paned window, indicates that whatever place this is, it’s not exactly a holding cell either. In one brief glance around, he can see at least two viable escape paths, and besides, it’s clear that someone is very much living in this space.

Yes, someone is living here, and based off of the figure currently sitting before him, a bottle dangling from their fingers, it’s a very, very big someone. Lolia below, the man is at least as tall as twice of him and one leg alone is as wide as the merchant’s whole body! What sort of a monster of a man is this? And furthermore, why is he looking down at him with such hatred and ire?

“Just as you asked,” a clipped, almost posh sounding voice, sounds from beside him, and swiveling his eyes over, he sees a decent looking fellow, either Hylian or human- he can’t tell past the hood, smiling up at the giant in the room. “One hero.”

Oh fiddlesticks, are these people looking for Mister Hero?

“You sure it’s him?” The giant’s voice is booming, echoing slightly off the walls even as it slurs slightly.

The young man in the hood nods, smile almost attractive if it wasn't so cold. “Certainly. You wanted a Link Lon? Well, I tracked down his residence and watched for days. This one-” a hand catches his shoulder and shakes, and he moves to protest the rough treatment only to find there’s a gag stopping him doing so, “- was the only one to show his face. Lucky for us though, he matches your description: black hair, short and built like a child’s doll.” It would almost be a compliment, back in Lorule, to be told he looked like a doll, and he knows in Hyrule, there are many people who teasingly call Mister Hero that, but here it almost sounds derogatory, like that’s something to his discredit.

The giant hums lowly, eyes trailing over him, glazed over and not quite all there. Still, he hopes that the man will realize that whomever they’re looking for, it’s not him. Mister Hero’s name might be the one they’re using, but last he knew, the hero has blonde hair, not black. That is the only real distinction between them, other than their eyes, but he desperately doesn’t want to believe that his friend is the target of these clearly ill-intentioned men either. Good grief, what do they even want him for?

“Alright,” the giant growls, turning and retrieving a small sack from the table beside him, one which he hands to the hooded fellow, who takes it with an eager smile. “There, for your troubles.”

It's clear Hood has experience, because he doesn’t take the bag and go, but opens it to briefly check its contents, charming smile dropping a moment later for a sharp look. “This isn’t what we agreed upon.”

“You took too long.”

Honestly, as a businessman himself, he’s slightly affronted on his capturer’s behalf! The man has no issue expressing the same anger though. “We agreed on two hundred rupees! This is barely a hundred!” At no response, the man presses on. “I hunted down the Hero of Hyrule for you and dragged him all the way out to Lynna City on your behalf. Of course it took time! You think he’s easy to tempt out of his little magical den?”

The chair that the giant sits on screeches as the man stands, and he’s really very, very huge when standing, head brushing the ceiling overhead as the chair crashes back against the floor. “Are we going to have a problem?”

Perhaps smarter than the average crook, Hood huffs, biting back whatever it is that he wants to say, and instead gathering up his earnings before leaving the room. That leaves Ravio alone with the giant. Oh, dear darkness, please let this all be a bad dream! He knows it’s not though. His dreams would have Yuga in the place of the giant, or maybe Ganon. He’s also pretty sure Mister Hero had said once that every face you see in your dreams is a person you’ve met, and he’s never met anyone who looks like the monster of a man before him.

The monster smirks, picking up his fallen chair and settling into it again. It's too small for him, but somehow, it doesn't fall to pieces under his bulk. “You’re a hard kid to find, pipsqueak,” the giant drawls, grabbing again for the bottle that’s dwarfed considerably in his hands and taking a swig. It’s clear he’s had plenty of whatever’s inside of it already, but that doesn’t seem to be stopping him at all. “That’s the third one I hired.” This time the words are a growl.

He wants, very badly, to exclaim that he’s not the hero and that maybe the trouble is that Mister Hero is never at home, but he sort of can’t. Good grief, he really hates gags, and the ropes bound around his arms and wrists aren’t particularly welcome either! From where he’s slumped on the floor, maybe having been dropped, maybe placed, he can’t be sure- he can see that his feet are free, and had it actually been Mister Hero they’d caught, that would be a deadly mistake. Between the fogginess of his head and the length of his robes though, he’s not particularly confident in his ability to stand right now, much less do anything to try and attack his friend’s apparent enemy.

It’s clear no attack is expected either, as the giant settles back, leaning heavily on a table that creaks and groans at protest to his weight. “You owe me a rematch, pipsqueak,” comes the rough growl, slurring slightly at the ends of the words. “It’s been a long time coming, but Lynna City’s going to see that Buri Bonebreaker doesn’t accept defeat.”

He doesn’t know what on earth is going on, but whatever it is, it keeps going. Still, from the blather of the drunken man, he can gather at least some information. First, that this person is called Buri and he has a minor obsession with Ravio’s hero counterpart. Second, they’re not in Hyrule anymore, but in a place called Lynna City, which, if he recalls correctly from Mister Hero’s many, many maps, is somewhere on the coast in Labrynna. Thirdly, Buri has something of a grudge against Mister Hero, and while he doesn't explain fully, the merchant gets the impression that the cause has something to do with a fight the man had somehow lost to the hero some years ago. How Mister Hero ever defeated a man this size so many years ago, he can’t imagine, but considering the other had already fought Ganon twice before they’d ever met, it would follow that he’s probably strong enough to have taken on some other foes too and won, even if the odds would definitely appear to be very much not in his favor.

Lastly, he manages, after what feels like hours of being sneered and jeered at, to learn one final, and perhaps far more important piece of information; Buri apparently has every intention of having a “rematch” with Mister Hero, tomorrow. And he thinks Ravio is the hero, so Ravio is going to be the one who’s involved in this rematch instead of Link!

Eventually, the giant passes out against the table, but Ravio, still stuck on the floor and still very much in pain from the pounding headache from whatever herbs were used to knock him out, is left unable to do anything save sit and panic.

He can’t fight a giant. He couldn’t even fight Yuga who, for all intents and purposes, was just a man, ordinarily sized and without much proficiency in anything besides magic to aid him in fighting. He'd had to get Mister Hero to handle that one, and he’s still never gone up against anything in an actual fight in years! The closest was fighting off some bigger children in Thieves Town when he was a kid, and even then, he’d ended up running away as soon as he’d managed to get free from their grasp, food blessedly still in hand. He’s not improved in skill, hasn’t even tried, but this time there won’t be any avoiding it.

If the cheering he can hear, rumbling outside like a wave of thunder, is a good enough indicator, he has a rather awful suspicion that this fight won’t exactly be a throwdown in an alleyway or a house. What’s outside sounds like a full-blown arena, and that means his destruction and shame will most likely be on full display to anyone and everyone who’s in there.

Dark hair hits the wall, and he groans.

He wishes Mister Hero was here. Him, or Hilda, or even Miss Zelda. Anyone who knew enough to give him a helping hand, or at least enough advice on how to slip out. Selfishly, he thinks at least his counterpart could handle being captured, because he’d escape easily, probably before even being brought to the person who’d put a bounty on his head in the first place! He has no such skill though, and the best he has is a knife he can’t reach and a desperation to not die anytime soon.

Hopefully, that’l do him some good, but he deson’t exactly have high expectations.

His expectations drop in the morning.

He was right, it is a blasted stadium that he’s been hauled to, and now he’s left standing in the middle of it, armed only with a knife that looks like a child’s toy in comparison to the axe in the hand of the man before him. Ravio’s heart is beating too fast to probably be good for him, and his breath keeps catching in his throat as he watches from the sidelines as Buri and another, apparently stupid person, duke it out before the crowd. It’s apparent that this is a tiered event, and so far, the giant hasn't lost, but he has left his opponents lying as bloody messes all over the arena to be scraped up by others and hauled away to be fixed up.

Arena fighting is a huge part of Lorulian culture, so he can’t say he doesn’t understand how such a thing can exist in a kingdom, but he never did get the appeal. There's so much blood and violence! Dread pools up in his stomach as the match he’s watching comes to another bloody end, the announcer calling out, voice loud and carrying over the whole of the area, telling the crowd that the match is won. The winner is clearly apparent, his smile still crazed in the morning light even without having hit the bottle again, and the merchant’s stomach lurches as its fixed on him.

The announcer continues, unaware, but telling the crowd about a special treat that’s apparently been prepared. Hearing Link’s name so loudly proclaimed isn’t nearly as exciting as it would be to know his friend was battling at Treacherous Tower, where he knows the other is the champion and quite capable of making it out alive. Here though, it’s the same title, apparently uncontested over the years, and this, the announcer tells the crowd, is the first rematch between competitors from five years ago, when the title was last taken. It makes a lot of sense to learn Link had won that title from the giant, hence the man’s lingering resentment and anger. Still, that’s not helping him at all.

The hooded man, who apparently had wanted to stick around for the fight and is claiming a portion of the inevitable winnings of the giant in return for keeping an eye on Ravio, turns to him with a smirk. “You’re up, mate. Best of luck.” It feels like a taunt.

The moment the gag comes off, he’s trying to protest, to tell the man that he grabbed the wrong person, that he’s not even a hylian, that he isn’t the hero! His words go unheard though, ropes quickly cut away before he’s pushed out and into the arena, the door between the waiting space for competitors and the main stage pulling shut loudly behind him.

Oh, he is so going to die!

The giant’s smile is a mad thing as he comes flying along, feet rumbling at the earth as the merchant fumbles at his sleeves, looking for the knife he keeps there, searching, seeking- there! He’s got it out and just in time to start running away, to dart as fast as his feet will carry him.

Yet, his feet that fumble to move, to step at all after sitting tied up all night. He trips.

Thundering steps slow, and he can see the shadow of a figure with an axe raised, although he’s too busy scrabbling to get back on his feet to even dare look back behind him, and then-

A loud clang sounds through the arena, and a hush falls over the screaming crowd.

The noise rings in his ears, painfully loud, and this time he can’t help but cover them, shifting up onto his knees and looking over his shoulder to see what in Lolia’s name has brought about so great a crashing sound.

A familiar blue cap and glittering sword makes him nearly start sobbing in relief right then and there. The giant’s axe has fallen, but not on him, nor on the stone, but caught on the shield of his very own Mister Hero, who’s shaking just slightly from the impact but facing the gladiator head on and unblinking.

“You...” the giant’s eyes widen, still crazed, but at least more focused than the drunken state of the night before.

“Me.” He can’t see, not with the hero’s back turned to him, but he can hear the smirk as the shield is pushed up and the axe is cast off, rising again in another blow only for the call of the announcer to sound.

He’s not entirely sure what happens after that. He only knows that, somehow, the giant catches ahold of him and starts yelling at Mister Hero, who yells back, sword raised and eyes glinting dangerously as they dart from Ravio’s terror filled face to the frothing rage of the giant. The announcer, who may or may not be acting as scorekeeper, darts over, and then the yelling gets to be so much that he can barely make out any of it over the furious pounding of his heart in his ears and throat.

“I paid good money for this slip,” he’s shaken by a huge hand, “you have no claim over him!”

“He’s my housemate, you asshole!” Mister Hero’s eyes are blazing as he hisses up at the face twice as high as his own. “How on earth did you think he was me? Let him go!”

But the man won’t. There's more yelling, threats, drawing of blades and swinging that’s quickly stopped by the announcer, who jumps between the two with more guts than Ravio would suppose the fellow would have, hands raised to either of them. “I promised the audience a fight, so-”

“You got the wrong Link Lon!” Mister Hero hisses. “You promised them a championship fight, but you’re not even bringing in the champion?” His voice carries, no doubt intentionally, and there’s murmuring from in the stands that clearly has the announcer, who Ravio supposes might also be the owner of the establishment, on edge.

“We were informed-”

“Your informant is brain dead if he can’t tell the difference between the Lynna City champion and some random fellow on the road!” And then the yelling starts again, and there’s fussing and there’s pointing of fingers, but Mister Hero’s eyes aren’t on the announcer anymore. They’re on Ravio. “Let him go.”

The hand holding him by his neck, which is far tighter than he’d like, tightens even further. “No.”

“He’s got nothing to do with this.”

“He’s your housemate,” there’s a smile in that voice he definitely doesn't like. “Your friend, yeah?” And the tone drops, a growl that rumbles through the hand around his throat. “You owe me a rematch, pipsqueak.”

“I don’t owe you a thing.” Dark eyes flit between him and the giant warily, and the hand on the Tempered Sword is tightening, adjusting its hold, ready to make a plunge even as the announcer yells something at the two fighters.

Another squeeze cuts off his breath for a moment, but blessedly releases it just a second after. “You want his freedom? You have to win it!”

Realization dawns, quickly overtaken with a sharpness and ferocity he remembers seeing directed at Hilda, at Yuga, at Gannon. Mister Hero is ready for the fight, and he’s pissed. “Fine. Let him go, and you’ll have your rematch.”

“Win,” the giant hisses, leaning down enough that spit flies of his lips as he speaks and spatters over the hero’s cheeks, “and he’s all yours.”

That seems to quiet the announcer too, who catches ahold of Ravio and surprisingly is met with no resistance as he tries dragging him away. The man’s strong, not as strong as the giant, but the merchant is hard pressed to get his hands free as he’s hauled across the stadium to a small platform where he’s quickly jerked to a stop. The voice of the announcer is even more painful up close and personal, and it rings over the crowd, announcing the change in competition, the foul play of a fake hero, but that the champion is in fact here now to defend his title. It’s all well and good, until he holds up Ravio’s hands and announces that the merchant is the “lovely prize” that the winner gets to take home. That’s too far, but unfortunately, Hood is back close at hand, offering to “mind the merchandise” so the announcer can attend to his actual duties.

He’s had maybe ten minutes with his hands unbound, and despite the swings and every attempt to slip away, he finds himself once more tied up again as Mister Hero and the giant take their places across from each other in the ring.

The crowd is well and truly losing their minds.

Ravio himself is as well, worry building up as he watches. Yes, he knows his hero is capable, but this is a bit much. Ganon was one thing, Yuga too, because they used magic for most of their attacks. The presence of the huge axe, which would only take one swing to leave his friend in pieces, feels like so much more of a threat as he’s forced to just sit and watch. Well, not actually forced. Since no one’s doing more than keeping him from leaving, but he really does have to cover his eyes a few times as the giant’s weapon is raised and swung at the hero. Every time he dares to look though, Mister Hero is still standing. Blood paints the features of both fighters, but even Hood, at his side, whistles lowly a few times in a way he takes to mean his friend is doing surprisingly well. He's hard pressed to watch those moves though. That’s his hero in trouble, all because he’d gotten captured and hauled off to some strange country he’s never been to before.

He is, perhaps, when they get back to Hyrule, consulting with Mister Hero’s smithy friend on getting a bigger knife. And lessons, he adds as he watches Link go flying over the giant’s head after performing a very impressive backspring, twisting in midair to swing his sword at the giant’s back.

He’s watched the other train before, and he thinks Mister Hero calls that move a helm-splitter. It would make sense, given that if there was an armored helm to split, the force of that swing would most certainly have left it in pieces. A cry of pain rises from the giant as he spins around, just as the hylian hits the earth, rolling with the impact, quite literally, and all but bouncing back to his feet again the moment his momentum has run out.

Mister Hero makes fighting look like a dance, and unconsciously, Ravio can pick up a subtle rhythm to his motions, a beat that’s followed like it’s a rule. It’s new, since he rarely sees any actual combat, and what he did was that one battle with their foes, not anything where the stakes were lesser than the fates of two kingdoms and all that lay within them. Here, all that’s on the line is his own safety, which he has no doubt the hero will preserve even if he did somehow lose, and the pride of his friend, which, considering all the other has already done in the name of saving others, probably isn’t nearly as much of a concern in the other’s head. Still, that desperation he’d seen turned on Ganon isn't here, if anything, Mister Hero is cold, closed off, face fixed in a stern look that’s only made lazing by the explosions of stars in his violet eyes. He’s fluid, twisting easily out of the way an not letting anything throw him off alance, off the steps of the unknown dance he’s crafted to use against his foe.

And he makes the giant look like an incompetent idiot the whole while.

Mister Hero’s laughter, not the wildly happy thing he’s seen once or twice, or the relieved desperation after everything was over and they were all safe, but a cold, cruel sort of sound that rings over the crowd, will sound after he avoids a blow. There’s damage done, yes; there’s blood flowing from injuries on both, but no full blow has landed on the hero, and he circles his prey as though he is the bigger, taunting and hissing, striking hard and fast and sure, feet gliding in the churned up dirt of the stadium, calling out to his opponent.

It’s his way to know that Mister Hero is well and truly pissed.

Buri is too, running, throwing his weight around, striking out in anger and missing, blinded by his rage as the hero glides out of reach and then flies forwards, blows landing hard and fast.

Thye axe will lift and fall, and here and again, they do land close enough to tear skin and clothes, ort the edge will catch on the hero’s body just a second before he’s out of reach, leaving a stripe of crimson painted over sweat soaked skin. Still though, his hero doesn’t falter. One moment that great weapon is raised, Ravio shielding his eyes, and then there’s another hiss from his friend and he’s looking against to see blood flowing and feet moving, eyes flashing so bright they’re visible even from where he’s being kept like a trophy for the winner to claim.

The dirt of the stadium is churned up all about, flecked with blood that’s quickly absorbed by already red stained dust. Feet shuffle, blades clang, and the shield of the hero raises, reflecting light into the eyes of onlookers.

It’s one such flash of light that has him blinking, blinded, and opening his eyes a moment later to find that the hooded figure who’d hauled him here and now slumping across the ground before him. Another man, also hooded, but with red hair drifting over his eyes, flashes a smile at him. “Need an out there, mate?”

It’s the same accent, but a deeper voice, and a kinder one, although it’s low with a whisper. A knife appears in one hand of the stranger, but it’s only turned to the rope on his hands.

The announcer is too lost in his own shouting and excitement to even notice as the red-head catches Ravio by the hand- not the wrist or the neck, but the hand- and tugs him towards the door that separates the announcer’s space from the crowd. Quite frankly, he has no clue who this person is, but he's not about to look a gift horse in the mouth, and so far, they’re not threatening him or anything, just holding tight as they weave through the crowd, pulling him along through the screaming onlookers and towards what looks like it might actually be an exit.

“Where-”

“Patience.”

It’s not the thing he wants to hear from a stranger hauling him away, but again, the man isn’t being rough with him. He’s had he continues too, because once the scream of the crowd fades and they’ve darted down a stair to a space below the seats, he sees some actually familiar faces waiting for him.

“Mister Captain Hero Sir!”

“Ravio!” The blonde spins about at the sound of his voice, relief washing over lovely features as he darts over, scarf billowing beautifully with the motion. A sturdy hand catches his shoulder, blue eyes flitting up and over him in a familiar once over that leaves both of them a little more at ease.

“You’re okay!” Tune- Wind (he’s got to get that straight) throws his arms around him, and eagerly, Ravio hugs him back. He doesn’t get to hug long though, as the young sailor bounces back with furrowed brows, staring up the short distance between them with a faint frown. “How did you get away? The fight isn’t over yet!”

The clearing of a throat has all the heroes glancing behind the merchant, eyes falling on his strange savior. “That would be me.”

“And you are?” Mister Captain Hero asks, guarded and already looking ready to grab for his sword on the off chance that a fee be demanded for the merchant’s release. There’s no such request though.

“A friend of your hero’s,” the red-head answers. “He can vouch for me once he’s finished kicking that idiot’s ass. I must say, his distraction worked nicely.”

The question of ‘what distraction’ lingers in his head, but he doesn’t get a chance to ask it because, even if the sound of the crowds is dimmed from below, the mighty roar that sounds from above stops anyone from hearing anything else.

The stranger smirks. “And that’s the idiot downed, I daresay.”

As it turns out, he’s right. It’s only a moment or so more and Mister Hero is suddenly coming up to them, clutching one arm and bloodied to a concerning degree, but that’s all cast aside as the hero all but flies over and throws his arms around the merchant, grip almost painful for how tight it is. “Thank God you’re okay, you idiot.”

“Oh, so you’re close friends,” the posh sounding voice of teh stranger chuckles. “I ought to have guessed.”

He can feel the stiffening of the hero’s whole frame, but long ears prick forwards with an eagerness that’s not spoken at the sight of the redhead. “Ralph.”

“Link.”

“Thanks for grabbing him for me.”

“My pleasure.” the man smirks. “You did put on such a lovely show, i don’t think anyone even noticed he was gone, they were so fixated on you.”

A grin, sharp and bloodied from the busted nose his friend has acquired, is flashed, and that’s what ends the conversation as Mister Captain Hero steps in and demands they start treating Mister Hero’s injuries. The stranger, whom his doppelganger continues to address as ‘Ralph’, also demands that once first aid has been finished- which he takes no qualms in swiping off his gloves to aid with- they come ack with him to a “safer place to catch your breathes”. It’s a welcome thought, especially as Mister Hero agrees without question; a sure sign that it’s alright, for his friend would never agree if it was in any ways a risk.

There’s questions, as they work to tend the rather copious amounts of cuts. What happened, why was Ravio captured, how does Mister Hero the giant, know the red-head, and of course what is going on in general. They’re all shut down though by the man called Ralph, who says there’s a time and a place for stories, but not while stopping someone from bleeding out. in Ravio’s experienced opinion, that’s a bit of an exaggeration, but it does a decent job of granted a bit of silence to those doing wound care.

Once the worst is tended, they’re heading out, moving quickly to avoid the crowds and the announcer who will no doubt have something to say to the veteran hero.

Mister Hero keeps a hold of his hand the whole time they slip from the stadium, and even once they’re on the street, following the hero’s red-headed friend, he doesn’t let go.

“No arguments,” the voice of his housemate is strained as it hisses between them, under still straining breathes but not exactly secretive, “when we get time, I’m teaching you to fight.”

“Please.” he’d argued about it before, but quite frankly? He regrets that. “If something like this happens again, I don’t want to be useless.”

One shoulder, the one that wasn’t nicked y the axe, checks against his own, dark eyes sparking as they tur on him. “This, will never happen again, okay? Never.”

“But something similar-”

“Ravio, I’m not letting anyone do that.” Violet hold green like the skies cradling the earth, only to break away a moment later with a huff. “But for pities sakes, there’s no way I’m going to be able to sleep knowing you’re as likely to hurt yourself with your weapon as you are someone else.”

Rude! “You should have seen me in the war! My hammer wrecked quite the decent amount of destruction!”

“Sure it did.”

“I’m serious, Mister Hero!”

But even for their words, the tone of his otherworldly twin is light, warm, and- for the hero at least- fond.

He’s okay. They’re okay. Everything is going to be fine, and the only ones who aren’t are likely the giant and the announcer, who will have hell to pay from the crowd if Ravio was reading the situation right. Good riddance to bad rubbish though, and Mister Hero agrees with a tired laugh when he says as much.