I had actually written this in like April and typed it up in September, but tbh I forgot about it until now. sorry it's short (and not heavily edited) but right now i don't have as much energy to keep writing combined with the fact that I keep thinking about how this probably does/will need at least a minor rewrite, the self-criticalness of which is definitely sapping my enthusiasm.
but hey, more content!
Sheik hadn't expected Vasheel's promise to be nicer to change things much, but his commitment showed itself only a few days later after Impa had come to extract him for yet another mission.
By this point, Sheik had resigned himself to things and hardly even looked up at her. When they went to leave, Vahseel had hung back, leaning in towards Sheik, shoulders hunched as if he were going to whisper some terrible secret. "So…" he raised his arms, drawing them back over his chest as his voice dropped off. After a second's glance away and back to Sheik, he clenched his hands into fists before dropping his arms off to the side entirely with a "Look – ugh," his voice dropped to a mutter, "they'll probably be boring as shit for you but," one hand crept up to rub at the back of his neck, "you can look through any of my books if you want. Gives you something else to do, at least."
"Oh, really?" Then, realizing that probably sounded rude, Sheik added a quick "thank you." Without thinking, his hand went to Vasheel's shoulder. As soon as he realized, he darted it back, but not before he saw Vasheel's expression flicker to something he didn't quite recognize as he flinched away from the hand. The quirk of his mouth said anger, but there wasn't the usual light in his eyes for that. Honestly, it looked more like surprise, and maybe even a little fear? Then again, Sheik had to remind himself, it wasn't like Vasheel was used to physical contact or affection.
Vasheel didn't acknowledge what happened, of course. He simply turned and left. Before completely exiting, he gave one final comment over his shoulder. "The books only, you hear? Touch anything else and I'll… well – it won't be pleasant, alright?"
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Two hours later and Sheik had to concede that Vasheel had been right about the books. At first he'd jumped from one to the next, scarcely glancing at more than a few pages before the cover of another caught his attention. The sudden access to almost more new information at once than the entire rest of his time in hiding, not to mention the even newer occurrence of Vasheel actually offering to be more open with something he considered so deeply personal, had created a warmth and energy in his chest so strong he felt he would split open from it. But as soon as he'd calmed and actually started trying to read them, Sheik found his concentration wavering even more than previously. It wasn't that the books were dense, although some of them were. It was that it turned out that looking at meticulous diagrams of the same plant at slightly different angles for seven pages was even less interesting than he'd expected. At least some of the medicinal ones had more practical applications, but even those were hardly what he'd call fun.
"I don't understand him," he moaned as he smacked his most recently attempted book against his forehead. "Ugh." One of the many piles strewn around him shifted as he sat up. "Can't have just one history… or something."
Finally he'd decided to actually sort through everything to see if there wasn't something interesting after all. It wasn't until almost the end, but buried between a few other things was a smaller book, plain black and wrapped with a leather cord. Instead of a full bound book, the contents were a collection of papers and smaller bundles that looked as though they'd been torn out of something larger. The smell was reminiscent of the castle library, but mustier. And as Sheik picked them up from where they'd scattered when he'd unwrapped the cord, he noticed that the pages were covered in an unfamiliar script.
No, not unfamiliar, just unreadable. Sheikah.
Of course! Vasheel had mentioned that he'd had a few of Impa's old books and brought them for her, but…
Sheik glanced at the last few books he hadn't organized. The others weren't here. Weird. It wouldn't have made sense for Impa to have put them someplace else, this being the safest place she could think of, and they were both super careful, especially Vasheel with books, so it's not like there would be risk of damage. Only reason why she wouldn't have put them there would be to keep them from him and Vasheel.
Oh. Ohhh. No! No. no no no no. Wasn't that. Couldn't be that. Impa trusted him, told him everything. And with Vasheel, she could at least trust in the fact that a combination of fear of her and Sheik's keeping an eye on him would keep Vasheel from touching things she didn't want him to.
But the fact remained that the books were not here and now it was getting increasingly harder for Sheik not to connect that to what Vasheel had said about the Sheikah. That the only and obvious reason why she had hidden them from him was something awful that she'd decided he should not know about.
The edges of the papers were fluttering. Their light shuffling the only noise in the room, but even that was almost inaudible to him over his heartbeat. Sheik folded himself down into a sitting position, ignoring the jab of hard covers against his legs, resting his head against his legs in an attempt to stop the room from spinning so much. But the efforts did nothing to slow his thoughts. In a last-ditch effort, he leafed through the pages, gaining nothing but a coating of dust on his hands and a growing dread in his stomach. Now more than ever he wished he'd actually learned Sheikah properly, because no matter how awful the contents might be, at least he'd know, instead of being left with the sick half-certainty that Impa thought he couldn't be trusted. As much as it hurt to think of what she had done, it was the hurt that she seemed willing to do him in the here and now that hit the worst.
Dropping the papers onto the ground in front of him, Sheik ran his fingers through his hair as his breaths grew more and more shallow. Curling up into himself as much as his body would allow, he let out a single sob.
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"You look even more tired than I am. Hate my books that much?"
"…"
"…That was meant to be a joke. Like I said before, didn't expect you to like them." When he still didn't respond, Vasheel leaned over him. "Are you sick or something?"
"I'm fine," he said, the words thick and his voice emotionless.
Vasheel rolled his eyes. "Course you are." He slid further in until the pressure of his hands on his knees was the only thing maintaining his balance. "It's okay to be upset about it, you know."
"What?" Sheik's head flew up from where he'd had it practically tucked into his lap. "I'm not! How did you even-"
"Uhh, it's pretty obvious?" Goddesses Sheik was being jumpy. "Come on. Outside. We could both use the air."
He gave no protest, although Vasheel did have to take him by the arm and start leading him before he started to move. "You were just out an hour ago."
"And?" A sigh as the entrance opened to the night air.
Sheik blinked a few times as his vision started to waver. His emotions had already exhausted him; he didn't really have it in him to pick apart Vasheel's eccentricities right now.
Finally stopping his pacing across the threshold to lean against the wall near Sheik, he said, "Seriously, I don't understand how you're not clawing at the walls to get out with how much she's been keeping you here."
"It's not that," he mumbled to himself.
Vasheel groaned, rubbing a hand against his forehead. "Seriously regretting that promise – exhausting." He sighed. "What is it then?"
Looking up, as much as the other was complaining, he was being sincere in this, and for that Sheik almost actually told him. Not because it would help him figure things out more – Vasheel wouldn't've really known more. But that was what you did, wasn't it? With friends? And while Vasheel would have spluttered and made denials and some acidic comment to disprove it, that was what they were at that point. Come to think of it, even Sheik hadn't explicitly thought that word before. It was nice.
The hurt was still a little too close, though, so he compromised with an answer that was accurate, if not true. "I'm sick of being so useless. I know, the temples, but other than that I've had to sit here and do nothing as the world falls apart."
"Not like I'm doing much either."
"That's not the point! I signed up to protect Hyrule and its people because I wanted to, not because anyone told me, and now, the part where someone needs to do something, it's all 'no don't do that' and 'you need to stay where it's safe' and I get it, but it's so frustrating that when I can finally be useful, I'm even more ignored and hidden away than ever!"
"Yeahhh. Fuck you for telling me what to do. I get that." Vasheel patted Sheik on the shoulder, although most of the reason he could even tell was that he was looking that way. The hand ghosted over him more than touching, and Vasheel kept watch on his expression the whole time, arm tensed as if he would spring back at the slightest provocation.
Sheik raised his eyebrows at him. "I wouldn't say exactly that, but yeah, I guess." He'd never thought about it that way, that for both of them a major pushing point was being given orders they didn't agree with; it was just their criteria for 'unreasonable' that differed.
His mouth quirked up into a half-smile. "Well of course you wouldn't" You're far too nice and innocent for your own good, the latter in the weirdest way. It's almost- shit. No, nope. NOT thinking that. Stop making faces at yourself, fool. He can see you. "You're too damn nice," he said, shaking his head with a huff.
"I am a perfectly reasonable amount of nice. You're just an- ah, a jerk"
Vasheel watched him with wide eyes. "Did you just almost swear?" The tail end of his sentence was said in almost a laugh, muffled as he covered his mouth with a hand.
The "of course not!" came almost immediately, a in a slightly higher register than normal. Under the continued staring, Sheik buried himself as far behind his scarf as he could without physically reaching up and pulling it over his face like he wanted to.
At that, Vasheel burst out laughing. When Sheik went to cover his face up with his hands, but not quite quickly enough to hide the spreading blush, his laughter only increased. He'd almost accidentally used a mild curse word, not even in an insulting way, and yet he was reacting as if he'd committed some heinous crime. It was so fucking adorable.
Shit. No, that one didn't mean anything; he would've thought that no matter what, the situation was too absurd not to and-
Vasheel caught sight of Sheik slowly lowering his arms below face level, still with the same shocked expression. Ugh. Nope, I've lost it. Because that had only made his insides jump even more. Didn't mean he had to like it, though. He sighed. "Just because I'm the only one who's said that kind of thing around you doesn't make you a horrible person for saying them, you know."
"Still not nice," he mumbled, gaze fixed on the ground.
"I never claimed to be nice. Just not evil." Why was he smiling? That was a weird thing to say, and Sheik would be even more confused if he didn't fucking get over himself and act like a goddess damned normal person for once. Change the subject, change the subject, change the subject. "Anyway, look, if you want to do something so badly, and you promise to listen to me, you can help me make potions."
Sheik's eyes lit up.