Locked and Loaded; a Modern LoZ Zelink Story

Good Thing She's Loaded

AN: If you didn't read in the summary, this is an addition/continuation of @Inastaria's Zelink Oneshots fic with the chapter "Theft of the Heart." Excellent fic and chapter and author in general. Please go read before reading this one, thanks!

(I changed the song Linked above to "Break My Heart" by Dua Lipa because it was more fitting 😉 and it totally slaps)

There was a certain wonder in strolling down a mall strip. There was excitement radiating off of the neon signs of stores begging for attention, all glitzy and tempting to anyone with full pockets. There was always something new to experience—a street musician, a blow-up mascot, or the nightly light show from the massive fountain embedded in the roundabout amidst it all. To those unaccustomed to the city—and even to those who were frequent visitors—it was like eye candy (quite literally, when it came to the mouth-watering chocolate shop on the north end).

Unfortunately, the wonder was lost on Link, and had been for quite a while now. His hazel eyes no longer explored his surroundings. He didn't stop to window shop like a naive little boy anymore. People interested him more.

The only reason he still tread those streets was to satisfy his kleptomania. Yes, he was a pick-pocketer—a damn good one, too. He had begun the art when he was a teenager, just after his parents' untimely deaths in a brutal car accident. All his remaining relatives were across the unforgiving border of Hyrule. His position and citizenship in the kingdom was crucial for his extended family to eventually make their ways inside and begin a new life. However, that also meant that he could receive no aid, and he sure as hell wasn't going to waste all the sacrifices his parents had made to get into this kingdom only to be shipped back.

That first year was the roughest, and most assuredly the darkest year of his life. Naturally, he'd been evicted after a couple months. He had moved to the local homeless shelter, having received no time to grieve over his lost family. The company there was often less than pleasant, alongside the meals, but it was survival and Link couldn't care less. It was there that someone had taught him the art of pick-pocketing, and the boy had picked it up fast.

He stopped attending school, instead dedicating his time observing the people who walked the streets, analyzing the easy prey, and finding places the rich frequented. He got good—too good. He would anonymously leave money for the young families in the shelter. There was a satisfaction in taking from those who had too much and giving it to those who had too little, even if it was morally questionable.

But he had gotten addicted.

He hadn't even realized it until he had officially dropped out of high school and picked up a job at a gas station on the edge of town, working evening shifts when stupid drunks would show up. He had saved his money until he could finally rent a small, shabby apartment for himself. When he had moved out of the homeless shelter, all those long hours where the setting sun had beat on him through the glass wall of the station, all those times he had broken up fights in the parking lot and had come back bruised and trembling—all of it had been worth it.

Careful budgeting left him with enough money to start an independent study course to finish his high school diploma, and it was going well. His job was steady, his manager loved him, he had made friends with his coworkers; he had no reason to steal anymore. None at all.

That's when he realized that he couldn't stop.

Never did he rob unfortunate-looking folks, nor teenagers (even if they were being little shits), nor mothers, nor those who were clearly good-hearted. His favorite targets were wealthy, middle-aged men with rounded bellies from a life of luxury and red faces from their constant state of irritation. His next favorites to swindle were the obnoxious women who got joy out of yelling at poor store employees and rioted when they got a parking ticket. Spoiled young adults were fun, too.