New Home - BotW Link x Reader (Undergoing Revisions)

Chapter 45 - Tracks in the Sand

The two of us - and I mean with me leading and a still awestruck Link trailing after me only because of our still-joined hands - made our way to the village square. A small podium was set up, of plain wood yet carved intricately with shapes of no name that twisted and arced around each other seamlessly.

It seemed that we'd gotten there just in time, because a tall, broad-shouldered man stepped right up to the podium adorned in blue robes - a deep, darker blue than that of the Champions' fabrics (and I realized with a start that Link didn't look at all out of place here, as everyone was wearing one shade of blue or another whereas I stood out like a sore thumb in my earthy green tones and pale lavender), and a jovial look upon his face.

I held Link's hand securely in my own and hugged his arm with my free one, ensuring that in the jostling crowd that more and more people seemed to pack into and brush past us that we did not get separated. We moved along with the crowd until we found a neat little pocket of space that we claimed for ourselves - standing squarely in a puddle that no one else wanted to stand in and sully their robes, perhaps, not that it was a problem for you or Link.

Actually, this crowd was of a mixed bunch - Hylians were here, of course, for this was a primarily Hylian settlement - but there were a few of the reclusive Rito perched atop houses and fence lines, which came as a shock to me. This area was likely too cold for both the Goron people and the Zora, so there were none in attendance tonight, nor were there any Gerudo women - but they rarely ventured beyond their desert so that didn't come as a shock to me, not at all.

Among the folks making up the crowd, a great many of them were wearing one shade of blue or another, often mixed fabrics with white added in for good measure, too. Others - more notably, elders - were wearing black outfits of mourning. Many of the children chose to adorn their robes and tunics with feathers and pretty stones and shells and scales.

To one side of the crowd, which I could see if I leaned just around the portly man beside me, there was a boisterous group of children play-fighting with their mock weapons: branch swords, shields of tree bark, scimitars of carefully bent and tied blades of grass, and bows of stick and twine. And... hammers. But real ones.

Those were concerning.

I nudged Link, and he immediately clued into what I was looking at as the man at the podium cleared his throat, preparing for his speech. A hint - and I mean a hint - of a smile played at Link's lips and I bit my own lip to hide the extent of my own smile from him.

"Their technique could use a bit of polish, but their reflexes are solid," I said jokingly, the words only meant for his ears to catch and... yes! I got a chuckle out of him, and the simple sound had my heart fluttering and my cheeks warming. That was progress.

I didn't have much more time to congratulate myself though, because the presentation began.

"Welcome everyone," the man who I presumed to be the village leader began, "welcome! Warmest of welcomes to one and all to our annual Festival of the Champions! What an honor to have you all here with us this year - what an incredible turnout!"

Link and I stayed quiet as the rest of the crowd around us erupted into cheers and, if anyone wasn't cheering, they just smiled and waited patiently as we did, eyes trained to the podium.

"As the good people of Rabant know, I am Thom, and I hope to get to speak with all of you as we enjoy the festivities this week. This, as we know, is quite a special year, very special indeed! This is our centennial festival! Our humble village started this festival only a few short weeks after the Calamity took over, during the middle of the reconstruction effort, because directly after the news spread that the Champions had fallen, Hyrule fell into a state of unease."