Chapter Text
That child, said the people of Hyrule Castle, is a wild thing.
He knows he’s a handful, and not very well-behaved. How could he not? He’d been shuttered off in his room plenty of times, berated for climbing the walls, dragged from the stables with a heavy sigh and disappointed stares.
Hyrule Castle, he decided, eleven years old and tired of being pushed and scorned and sneered at, was no place for him. If he was a wild thing, let him run to the wild.
The hardest part about running away was the first part, where he had to say goodbye to his father and his little sister. He went while they slept, but still.
His dad slept as soundly as a rock, blonde hair out of its ponytail and falling over his face. Link pat him on the cheek and left a note on the nightstand. It wasn’t his fault he was running away.
Aryll was curled up on Link’s bed, hugging a stuffed seagull close to her chest. He ruffled her hair away from her face and kissed her on the forehead. She couldn’t read yet, so a note would do her no good. Maybe one day, she would run away, too, and come find him.
The easy part was sneaking past the guards at the northern exit. A few tossed apples had them looking the wrong way just long enough for Link to slip out and make his way across the moat. He was a strong swimmer, thanks to summers spent with the Zora.
He climbed the ridge north of the castle with a wooden sword strapped to his back and a small bow. He didn’t need much more than that, he figured. He knew how to hunt, and cook, and survive.
But he’d already stayed up too late in order to make his escape, so when Hyrule Castle was out of sight, he curled up under a tree in the forest and slept. When he dreamed, he dreamt of pink leaves and scary mist and what sounded like laughter. Not the laughter of the other knight’s kids in classes when he messed up an answer, or Princess Zelda’s laughter as she danced at balls. This sounded like the creaking of trees in the wind.
In the morning, Link cast a long look in the direction of the castle before heading deeper into the woods, until the trees had no leaves and everything was covered in a thick mist. The Lost Woods. Link knew about this forest, had been told to turn around and never look back if he ever found himself upon it. But something in the wind sounded like his dream, so Link stepped forward.
At first, he didn’t understand how anyone could get lost in these woods at all if they just followed the lanterns. Then he found himself at the last lantern with nothing but a little wooden sword and a torch.
If he turned around, he could still see and remember the way out. But where would he go from there? What would the other kids say if they found out that he gave up as soon as it got a little scary? Nevermind that he planned on never seeing them again. He stepped forward, past the lanterns and into the forest with no path.
He took small steps, looking down at his feet and then up at his surroundings, over and over again, until the wind changed and the embers of his torch blew across his face. He coughed and ducked, turning so he faced the way the wind was blowing.
Well, the wind had gotten him into this mess. Surely it could get him out.
He followed the light of his embers all the way through the wood, turning and changing direction with the wind, until the mist lightened into sun, and he spotted little green creatures popping up from behind rocks and bushes and logs. There was a path here that he followed all the way to a sword pedestal, and a giant tree with pale pink leaves.
The sword was much bigger than the ones he’d trained with, and Link hesitated to reach out for it. When he did, the great tree spoke. “I would be careful, young one.”
Link looked up at the tree. He was somehow unsurprised it had spoken. “Where am I?” he asked.
The tree laughed, and the little creatures laughed, too. “You do not recognize this place? It was your home, long ago. You are in Korok Forest. And the blade before you is the sacred blade, the Master Sword.”
Link made eye contact with one of the Koroks, who waved before disappearing into the grass. “The Master Sword?” Link asked.
The tree hummed. “Yes. Only the Chosen Hero can wield it. Only you. Though, you are much too young now to free the sword. Why don’t you come back when you are a little older?”
“I don’t want to leave,” Link argued. “I don’t like the castle.”
“No,” said the tree, “but I think in time you will come to understand why you must be there. And in more time still you will be free of it. Will you trust me on this, young one?”
Link begrudgingly agreed. After all, he was starting to get hungry, the Lost Woods emptier of food and cake and warm blankets than he thought.
The tree told him a shortcut for leaving the woods, and when Link took it, he found himself back in the regular forest, with the sound of hooves heading towards him.
His father’s horse skidded to a stop when she saw him, the man himself dismounting before she’d even halted. He fell to a knee before Link, holding his face in his palms, eyes searching. “Link! Are you alright? What would possess you to run away like that?”
Link hugged his father. A few yards away, a Korok waved before disappearing in a poof of leaves.