Link's Shorts

High Above

"He's mute, you knuckleheads!" Zelda stood with her arms crossed, staring at the tall and bulky redhead with disdain, his lackeys standing behind him with sheepish looks. He scowled back, briefly, then looked away. They stood alone in the hallway of the Knight Acadamy, high above the clouds in Skyloft.

"I know that." Groose pouted. "But--"

Link rolled his eyes.

"--That's why you were hounding him about earlier?" Zelda cut him off.

Around her, he was almost a totally different person. Cawlin and Stritch were forgotten, and whatever he had been saying to Link was lost to the winds. He stumbled over his words, fawning over her so completely. He faced Link and Zelda with his arms gesturing widely around him as he spoke.

"Yeah!" Groose said, then frowned. "Wait, no. He was talking again!"

Zelda rolled her eyes, moving to stand next to her friend. "It's called selective mutism, Groose."

"But that means he can't talk, right? He's mute!"

"No," sighed Zelda, glancing at Link before plowing ahead. "It just means he can't talk all the time. We've been over this, you've known this since we were little."

"Yeah, but, you see," Groose puffed up a little, deflating when Zelda shot him a piercing look. "Okay, I know, I know."

"If you know, then why are you bullying him about it?"

"Whoa, hey," Groose held up his hands defensively as Zelda jabbed a finger accusingly at him. "I'm not a bully! We were just having some fun!" Crossing over, pushing past Zelda, Groose threw an arm around the shorter Hylian's shoulders. Giving him a tight squeeze that made Link wince, the redhead laughed for emphasis.

Link shook his head when Zelda shot him a withering look, igniting a new fire under her.

"Let him go, Groose," she grabbed one of Groose's wrists and that was it for the boy. He was lost in his own daydreams as she dragged him back to Cawlin and Strich, berating him the whole time. "He's not your plaything and he's going to talk sometimes and you know it! Now, leave the poor guy alone!"

Once she let go of his wrist, Groose sighed dreamily, rubbing the spot she'd been touching. "Yes, Zelda, of course," he muttered without thinking, barely registering her words through his thick skull.

Unimpressed, Link watched on, crossing his own arms. He had remained silent the whole time, heart beating wildly in his chest as he worked up the courage to say something in his own defence. Zelda was always protecting him. He didn't mind, and in fact was impressed and relieved that she did, but sometimes standing up for yourself was just that much more powerful. Not that Groose ever listened to him when he did. He had stopped trying, way back when they had been just kids. Back when things were simpler. Back when he spoke.

But now it was different. Now, they were almost old enough for the Wing Ceremony. Things were about to change, for all of them.

"Groose," said Link, just as the bigger boy had waved the two of them off and was about to walk away. Everyone turned to him. All their eyes stared, boring holes into his very being. This is why he didn't talk. He hated being the centre of attention, the one everyone looked to. It was hard to speak when it was like this, when his windpipe closed up and his mind went blank. Clearing his throat, he tried again. "Groose," he said, a tiny smile gracing his lips, "I'm going to win that sailcloth."

The redhead blinked at him for a moment, processing the words. Then he frowned.

"There," he pointed at the Hylian, looking at Zelda. "He's gone and done it again."

Zelda sighed, pushing Groose toward the exit, where Cawlin and Strich were waiting. "Oh, whatever," she grumbled. Today was just going to be one of those days, she figured.