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There’s a night market in this town, they were told. It comes through every year at about the same time, with all manner of sellers and stalls and curiosities, ranging from pretty trinkets to one-of-a-kind magical items. Of course, they naturally went and checked it out – who would pass up such an opportunity? But as they were walking around, Ravio noticed something. There were some vendors that were not yet operating, even an hour into the market officially opening for business. And, when he looked down the alleys and smaller walkways between buildings (for there are many reasons to need a quick exit in such a big crowd), he saw many… unsavoury types waiting almost too casually in the deeper shadows. Pretty quickly, he figured out that there was some sort of second operation happening – or, going to happen. Something he may be able to take advantage of for his own benefit.
Which led Ravio to where he is currently. When Link was satisfied with the shopping, Ravio told him he was going to hang back – and he had joined the shadows to wait for the witching hour market. Then, when the other stalls opened and the early vendors packed up, he had perused the items deemed not for casual eyes, and got some items that would have some real punch (as well as a few fancy baubles for his own projects). It went well, too! He’d never see so many wonderful items, all from the corners of this still unknown world. It didn’t just serve their stocks, but also his own personal curiosities as to what magic exists here.
…He really didn’t mean to get into a scuffle on the way out. He had worn his hood, iconic but disguising, kept away from any bigger groups or particularly mean looking buyers, and made sure to keep his coin purse tucked away and only pull out the necessary rupee instead of it all. But it seems there was something about him that caught their eye – too new, too bright, too good at haggling, whatever it was – and he got into a spot of trouble.
Ravio rolls onto his back with a groan. His face is all busted, blood dripping down onto his chin from his nose – not that he’d be able to tell, with how much blood was already in his mouth. He thinks he might’ve swallowed a tooth… at least none of his items were stolen. They’re safely hidden away in a small expanding pouch he sent Sheerow off with as soon as he clocked the advancing assailants. They of course didn’t believe him when he said he had nothing on him, which led to him beaten up in an alleyway, but at least the trip wasn’t for nothing! Sheerow’s likely got the items back to his inn room by now; Link would have let him in through the window when he knocked against it.
Oh, man, he’s gonna have to face Link looking like this… he’s probably worrying, with only Sheerow returning and not him. Ravio can already hear his concerned voice, can imagine how he’s pacing around their room debating getting a whole search and rescue party together versus just running out into the night on his own. Sheerow should tell him he’ll be alright – Sheerow knows that this isn’t the first time something like this has happened, and Ravio can usually handle it – but he knows it would not convince him. In fact, the Link voice in his head raises an octave at the information, and if his chest didn’t hurt so much, Ravio would laugh at it. He’s always so concerned when Ravio tells him about how he lived in Lorule, gets this soft sad look on his face any time Ravio tries to laugh it off. It is sweet how much he cares about him. But really, he is used to it!
Ravio pushes himself to sit ever so slowly. He’s lucky no bones were broken, but his entire body feels like one massive bruise. As if on cue, his ankle twinges awfully when he tries to shuffle back to lean against the wall. It’s not twisted unnaturally when he looks down at it, but he doubts that’s any consolation. And, of course, now he's noticed it, it begins to hurt real bad. He lets his aching head fall back to hit the wall pitifully, wondering how exactly he’s going to get back to the inn now. It’s almost dawn, the sky lightening ever so slowly into the coldest grey, but still much too dark to navigate the town safely in this state. Plus, for all he knows, the attackers could still be out there, and take his incapacitation as an excuse for a second round.
Ravio is used to it, but it doesn't make it any easier. Being weak, feeling… vulnerable. The constant vigilance eats at you, wears you down into a barebones, anxious mess. He manages it, mostly, the majority of days – but it's times like these where the full weight of the fear crashes into him. The fear of what will happen next.
He doesn’t have to wonder for long, in the end. Sheerow comes whizzing around the corner – and with him, Ravio’s saviour.
Link gasps when he spots Ravio – he’s wearing his armour, likely never having taken it off in the first place, waiting to finally go to bed when Ravio returns – and the way it clangs when his knees hit the floor next to Ravio shakes his head to a pound. Maybe there’s a concussion somewhere in there with the rest of his injuries…
“Bloody hell, Ravio, what happened? You promised me you’d stay safe!” Ah, yes, he had promised Link that, with a squeeze of his hand and a confident smile. He didn’t mean to not do that, in his defence. He just wanted some more powerful items to help them on their quest!
Link’s hands hover, unsure where to check first, before he sighs and gently cups Ravio’s bloody and bruised face. They spend a moment like that; Ravio’s heartbeat calms now he’s not alone as Link observes the damage. Then Link is grabbing his scarf and bringing it up to dab away some of the blood covering his lips and nose.
“Don’t get blood all over your scarf,” Ravio mutters, shying away from it. He’d feel awful if it got stained because of him. He’s been trying so hard to not become a burden on Link, on this adventure. Yet despite all his improvements in combat, despite being prepared for it, despite being used to it, he still ended up crumpled on the ground completely helpless – he shouldn’t be ruining Link’s clothes as well as his own, at the very least.
Link just tuts and moves to do it a second time. “It’s seen worse, trust me.”
Ravio lets him wipe it away reluctantly, closing his eyes and letting the pain take over for a moment. Everything hurts. His head, his ankle, his pride. Usually when this happens, he’s free to lick his wounds privately, nobody any the wiser. He doesn’t have to sit there as a hero fusses over him. He appreciates it – appreciates everything that Link does, is – but it still swirls embarrassment and shame into his stomach.
“I’m sorry…”
“Can you stand?” Link looks over his slouched body, completely brushing past Ravio’s apology, before glancing back out of the alleyway. “I can carry you on my back if you need. The streets are empty.”
“I think you might need to, my ankle is, well…” he laughs awkwardly. Link hisses sympathetically, then he’s turning around and getting into position for Ravio to scoot over and get on his back. He hesitates, reluctant to jostle himself, but Sheerow nuzzles into his head, encouraging.
It hurts, but Ravio manages to get himself draped across Link’s shoulders. He holds on tight as Link stands up, gripping his scarf, and tries to breathe through the dizziness that shakes through his head when they begin moving.
Just as Link said, they’re the only ones in the street at such an hour. It’s almost too silent, especially after the bustle of the market and the shouts and grunts during the attack. All that’s left is Sheerow's quiet wings flapping, and Link’s armour shifting as they travel. Ravio lets his mind drift off from their surroundings, trying to doze upon Link’s shoulder. This really, really hurts. Link’s armour is so spiky on the outside, and every step shakes his ankle and his head and his ribs hurt and ow. Now he’s no longer in immediate danger, he’s finally letting himself wallow in pity. This sucks! Why him? What did he do to deserve this? He’s an innocent man!
“We’re almost there, wabbit, you’ll be okay soon,” Link murmurs. Ravio just nuzzles into his shoulder and whines.
When they finally arrive at the inn, nobody but the tired looking bartender is present – everyone either sleeping upstairs, or having left the tavern for the night to their own home. They’re jolted back awake by Link pushing the door open with his foot and accidentally slamming it into the wall, and all Ravio does is sheepishly smile at them as they look at the duo with wide eyes.
“Sorry, uh– had no hands,” Link says as he carefully weaves around the tables to get to the stairs leading up to the rooms. The bartender just absently nods, still staring. It only confirms to Ravio that he looks like a total mess. The worry about his appearance disappears as Link slowly makes his way up the stairs, and each step rocks pain throughout his entire body.
The relief when they’re finally into their room and Ravio is lowered back onto the bed is immediate. He lies boneless atop the soft sheets, eyes closed and basking in the feeling of not moving an inch. Everything still hurts, but it’s a lot better than constant jostling. Then the bed dips somewhere to his right, and when he cracks open an eye Link is looking down at him with the most wonderful thing held up in his hand. Red potion.
It’s disgusting, of course, but Ravio doesn’t care about that at all right now, drinking it with big gulps. He feels it sink into his chest and spread out to the rest of his body – the pain in his torso recedes into a dull ache, his head stops pounding, and he’s able to wiggle his toes again without agony through his ankle. When the bottle is empty, he flops back onto the bed, finally feeling true relief from the pain.
The room is silent for several minutes. Ravio lies there, basking in the lack of pain, while Link fiddles with his hands, appearing deep in thought. Ravio’s guilt crawls back in now the pain has receded and all that’s left is the reality of the situation. He made Link worry. Kept him up all night and made him carry Ravio back to the inn after a full day of travel and shopping because he was incapable of doing something as simple as running away faster. And wasted a potion to boot.
“How are you feeling?” Link eventually asks. Ravio stretches out, checking his body one more time for leftover aches and pains, before sitting up. He pushes the guilt to the side, sliding his carefree mask back on.
“I’m all good now, don’t worry! I always bounce back from accidents like this.” He goes for a reassuring grin, but the sorrow on Link’s face wipes it off of him almost instantly.
“I would’ve stayed, if you knew it’d be so dangerous. All you had to do was ask.”
“I thought I’d be fine, honest – I’ve gone to places like that dozens of times before.” Really, he did. And even if he hadn’t been, there’s never been anybody waiting up for him to get back before, nobody to miss him. He would’ve picked himself up eventually, and then carried on like nothing had happened. He’d have survived.
Link doesn’t say anything else, just observes Ravio’s face. He starts to feel a little awkward under the scrutiny – he hasn’t had to hide himself away from Link for a very long time now, but so much direct attention still makes him feel a bit too conscious of himself. Then Link is sighing, and reaching out to take Ravio’s hand gently.
Ravio would’ve survived on his own… but it isn’t like that anymore. He does have someone waiting up for him – and clearly, he would’ve been terribly missed.
“Can I tag along, if there’s a next time? At the very least, I’m curious as to what I missed out on,” Link finally asks. The comment on missing out is tacked on at the end, a clear misdirection – the concern still at the forefront.
All of a sudden, Ravio feels a bit overwhelmed. Not at Link’s request itself, or the interest in the market and the items Ravio acquired – the moment he’s over himself, he is going to tell Link everything he saw, and lay out his spoils, he doesn’t even have to worry – but because he doesn’t think he’s ever quite felt care like this. He knew Link cared, of course he did, yet he worked under the assumption he was alone even so. Why? Link makes him feel so safe, would do anything if it meant helping Ravio out, protecting him from harm. He should’ve just told Link what he had spotted – they could’ve looked at the stalls together, Link would’ve had thoughts on the items he didn’t consider. And if there was still a confrontation, they would’ve been able to make it out together. He wouldn’t have had to be so on edge, so vigilant, so careful.
Ravio feels so silly. He didn’t realise he didn’t have to be scared anymore.
He squeezes Link’s hand. “Of course you can. With a big strong guy like you by my side, nobody will get any funny ideas!” Ravio smiles, bright and full of love and appreciation.
“We can’t have anyone hurting the cutest bunny merchant around, can we?” Link jokes.
“Ex- actly. Speaking of merchants: you want to see what I bought?”
Sheerow brings the bag over, settling next to Ravio as he scoots back on the bed and begins to lay everything out. He explains what he thought everything could be used for, delighted when Link has his own ideas to input, and the long seated, well ingrained anxiety slowly ebbs out from his body, just for the moment. Everything is okay now. He’s with Link, and he doesn’t have to just survive anymore. He can be safe. He can be cared for.
Oh. Isn’t that nice?