So… um. Wow. I wasn't expecting this little idea to blow up so quickly on FFnet. Between FFnet and AO3 where it is also posted, despite the former's godawful archiving system, it got way more traction on the former than the latter. I'm blown away and super thankful to everyone who favorited, followed, reviewed, kudo'd, whathaveyou! So much so that I've decided to start uploading chapters on the first of every month! As of writing this note, the story just hit the Verdant Rain Moon.

Chapter II

To my great surprise, I woke up warm. And not missing any fingers or toes or limbs or other various parts of my body. Not to mention the fact that I woke up at all. My head was pounding and my thoughts were a bit over the place. Where was I, anyway?

"Looks like he's coming around," someone said.

With a bit of further inspection, I realized that I was in the same tent as when I had blacked out. The candles were now extinguished, natural light seeping in through the fabric of the structure. I was on the ground, in some sort of bedroll. I guess the two boys who had been in here had taken decently good care of me while I was unconscious. Mentally, I removed them from my ever-growing list of hostiles. I immediately disengaged from the bedroll and got to my feet. The white-haired one– Dedue, if I recalled correctly– tightened his grip on his axe. Interestingly, he was sporting a few more nicks on his face than I recalled there being last night. I recognized my handiwork when I saw it. Now that I thought about it further, I had a vague recollection of clashing blades with him. I think I had thought he was going to hurt me, for some reason…

A flare of pain surged from my right shoulder. I gave it a cursory glance and realized it had somehow been dislocated. I hyperventilated for a few moments before forcing my arm back into its socket. I had no idea how that had happened.

I warily eyed the observers. They may not have been an immediate threat, but I still had to expect the worst. As usual. I tried to keep my expression schooled.

"My thanks for your… mercy," I said slowly, grateful that they used the common tongue. I was fluent in both the common tongue that everyone used as well as Silvarian, the language of the Kokiri. I was aware that the Gerudo had their own language, but I wasn't familiar with it. Gorons and Zora, or at least Terminian Gorons and Zora, had no unique languages of their own as far as I knew. I would hate for the inhabitants of this world to not understand me. "In addition, I sincerely apologize for any… injuries the two of you sustained. I was not in a good state of mind last night."

If they were surprised by my words, they did an excellent job of hiding it. The blonde one was about to open his mouth when a loud horn interrupted. Instinctually, I gripped my sword and whirled to find the origin of the sound.

Someone entered the tent. One of the men from last night.

"Prince– Dimitris?"

"I will attempt to explain in a moment. Please, continue," the blonde boy implored. I surmised that he was 'Prince Dimitri'. Was Dimitri a last name or a first name? I wasn't quite sure.

"Only one thing to report," he went on. "At approximately twenty-three hundred hours, an intruder was spotted in the southwest quadrant–"

"Yeah, that was me," I confessed, causing everyone to give me an odd look. "I had been wandering in the storm for five hours, at least. When your soldiers came over, I assumed they were hostile. Still freezing, I found my way here. My apologies for any inconveniences."

"Five hours dressed like that?" Prince Dimitri mused. "Nobody could spend that long in conditions like that and be as cognizant as you were last night… at least, nobody without a crest…"

He trailed off, an implacable expression on his face. Meanwhile, I was trying to figure out what the heck 'crest' meant in this context. "No. That's not possible…"

"Sire?"

"Nothing," Prince Dimitri replied. "What's your name?"

"Link," I said curtly. A short pause ensued.

"And your surname?"

"No. Just Link," I said after a moment's silence. I had to figure out exactly what 'surname' meant. Did he mean last name? I was going to roll with that. "I never knew my parents, so I never got one."

"Where are you from?"

There it was. There was the dreaded question. How was I going to go about answering this? I looked down and slightly to the side, deliberately avoiding eye contact. "I… don't particularly want to talk about it. Erm, not to sound ignorant, but… where are we, exactly?"

"We are in the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus; more specifically, the territory of House Gideon, a day's march to Fhirdiad," Prince Dimitri informed unhelpfully after a moment's hesitation. I was just going to pretend like I knew what any of those words meant.

"Never been there," I said truthfully. "You, uh, soldier person– got anything else to say?"

To my lack of surprise, I was not directly responded to.

Prince Dimitri and the soldier engaged in a curt conversation about logistics or something or other. I didn't pay it much mind. The only important information that I got out of it was that we would be continuing the trip to Fir-Dyad or whatever the heck it was called once the storm cleared up. I guess that meant it was still snowing.

Vaguely, I processed that the guard had exited the tent. I drummed the tips of my fingers against each other, slightly nervous about the following events. I probably couldn't just stay here. That would be a massive breach of etiquette, wouldn't it? Not to mention an abuse of hospitality.

"So, Link, would you like to travel with us to Fhirdiad?"

I took a double-take. "I– I beg your pardon, Prince Dimitri?"

"It would be no problem," the royal assured. "It is the least I could do. Faerghus winters are not forgiving, as you are now no doubt aware. You can borrow some of my spare clothes– Dedue's would be even larger on you than mine, and your current attire does not protect you from the elements."

I struggled to form words. This was seriously up there on the list of the nicest things anyone had ever done for me. It didn't top the hug from Cremia– nothing could top the hug from Cremia– but still. "That's… um, v-very considerate, Prince Dimitri. I… it's just– I wasn't expecting it. If there's anything I can do to repay you, please let me know!"

The prince turned away from me, a smile on his face. "I'll hold you to that."

Prince Dimitri's clothes were, in a word, massive.

I had always been rather scrawny, sure, but I guess sprinting nonstop for three days straight hundreds of times over had really not done me any favors in that regard. If I wore my tunic underneath, its girth could be construed as somewhat reasonable, but it still hung off me like a smock. The pants weren't much better. I was liable to trip on the cuffs. Fortunately, I could just tuck the bottom bit into my boots, which solved the tripping problem and also prevented snow from getting in contact with my lower shins and ankles.

Even though they were comically large on me, they still managed to feel constricting to me. My tunic was great by contrast— it was light, durable, stain-resistant, and full of nostalgia. I had gotten so used to it that Prince Dimitri's spare attire felt like an Iron Knuckle's armor.

I sighed, not only from the wardrobe malfunction. I knew I had to do this, that I couldn't keep my origins a secret for too long. It would breed distrust, which was already making itself plenty available in the tent. I had to nip it in the bud before it could become a problem. "May I have a word, Prince Dimitri?"

The lance-wielder paused, brush midway along his scalp. "Yes?"

"Erm…" I shifted my weight from foot to foot. "Without Dedue?"

"I assure you, there is nothing you can say to me that I am not comfortable with Dedue also hearing." The prince's words gained a sharp edge. "Or is there a problem?"

I caught onto the insinuation pretty quickly. "No, no," I hastened to confirm. "Dedue is a fine man, I like him– really, I do. It's just… it's about where I'm from, and… I don't want word to spread too far."

"You will not have to worry about that," Dedue interjected.

"Alright, alright." I pushed a stray bang out of my cone of vision. "I'm sure you know what perpendicular means?"

"Yes. It is when two lines meet at a ninety-degree angle."

"Right. Now, here's where it gets difficult– there are places, in the world, where you can move in a direction perpendicular to all other three dimensions at once." I paused to let that sink in. "When you do that, you… for lack of a better term, jump worlds."

Silence.

"I'm not from Far Gus. I'm not from anywhere you could find on a map. I'm from a place called Hyrule, kilometers and kilometers and a Perpendicularity away…"

More silence.

"With all due respect, Link, I find it difficult to believe you," the lance-user stated.

"I would be surprised if you didn't," I replied, taking off my hat. "But I can prove it. See… um… I'm not human, like you two are. Look at my ears." I tapped the side of my head.

Dedue squinted. "Pointed…"

"Yes. I can go on." I began to rummage through my pouch.

"That's… not necessary," Dimitri assured. "Somehow, I get the sense that you are not lying. Dedue, what do you think?"

"I am unsure, Your Highness," the axe-user stated. "But if you are inclined to believe his words, then I will as well."

I internally breathed a huge sigh of relief. "Do you see why I didn't want the contents of this conversation to spread?"

"I do," the prince said, a wry grin inching onto his face. "I suppose that also means you're not my bastard cousin."

I proceeded to inelegantly choke on my own spit and surprise. I mean, sure, we looked almost too similar for it to be a coincidence, but…

"Will you ever tell us more about your home?" he continued.

I hesitated. "Maybe, in time. My world… doesn't have many happy memories for me."

Both Dimitri and Dedue nodded slowly, like they truly understood what I was getting at. I doubted it, but still. It was a nice feeling.

It was still snowing as we exited the tent. I couldn't really tell if it was lighter or heavier than last night, but it was obviously too much to call for the whole army to march. As far as I had gathered, this army was being commanded by Prince Dimitri and was traveling towards Fir-Dyad. I guess that made sense– he was a prince, after all. I don't remember Princess Zelda having military experience of this sort, but maybe that was because Hyrule was coming out of the Unification War. That would also explain why the Hyrulean army was so much less organized than that of Far Gus. This level of structure was absent in all four corners of Termina as well, with the exception of Ikana in its heyday.

The braziers were properly ablaze now, their crimson warmth seeping throughout the entire camp. Now that I thought about it, the camp itself wasn't all that large. The rigid, structured nature just made it look larger than it really was. It just barely eclipsed four times the size of Kakariko Village, or at least the parts of Kakariko Village that I had had the opportunity to explore. Even still, that made Far Gus' army significantly larger than Hyrule's.

I idly wondered to myself what would happen next. If we weren't leaving, what was there to do? It almost felt like a waste to just stand around here.

"Shall we spar?"

I sputtered. "I, um, I don't– I'm not saying no, but– why?"

"From an early age, children of Faerghus are taught how to fight, even before we learn to read and write," Prince Dimitri explained. "The harsh environment requires it. Sparring is a common activity."

Something about that felt very backwards, but I didn't say anything. And I had thought learning how to fight at the ripe old age of ten was far too soon. "Well, if you say so."

As a trio, we exited the tent. The snow was much lighter than it had been last night. Interestingly, it was falling as rain. And it was surprisingly warm. Not as temperate as Kokiri Forest, to be sure, but warm enough to melt the snow as it fell. I could see, off in the distance, the braziers from last night fully ablaze. The flames were bloodred, and I could sense the strange orderly magic emanating from it. A pretty sizeable enchantment must have been laid over them. That made sense, and that would also explain the unfamiliar magic in the air.

Soldiers were milling around, performing small tasks like weapon upkeep, sky surveying, and keeping watch. Were we in hostile territory? No, that couldn't be right– Prince Dimitri had said we were only a day's march from Fir-Dyad. How small was Far Gus, anyway? I had been under the assumption that it was larger than Hyrule, but who knew at this point. Dimitri was shown respect, Dedue was glanced at with distrust, and I don't think anyone knew what to make of me. Honestly, fair enough. I didn't know what to make of myself.

The three of us made our way to a comparatively rather busy corner of the camp. It had a more open floor plan than the rest of the camp. There were a number of training dummies and archery targets set up neatly all over the place. I watched the other two young men step up to a small nearby tent, a number of wooden sparring weapons stored inside. It was being manned by a lone knight, her right arm stuck in a sling.

"Prince Dimitri," she greeted, waving with her good hand. The prince engaged in some small talk before checking out a lance, axe, and short sword. And by short, I meant short. Even shorter than the Kokiri Sword had been before I had traveled to Termina. I tried not to make a fuss about it. Dimitri and Dedue beelined towards the center of the grounds, towards a lone figure with messy blue hair beating the hell out of a mannequin with a hand-and-a-half sword. He couldn't have been older than Prince Dimitri, as he was a bit shorter. Still much taller than me, of course, but still.

"You're late, Boar," the youth snarled, not turning from his task. Dedue's eyes narrowed into slits. Was 'Boar' Prince Dimitri's last name? His first name? That didn't sound right, but my world had plenty of silly names, my own included.

"My apologies, Felix," Boar Dimitri said. I errantly brushed a bang out from in front of my face. "We were… held up. But we're here now. How does a two-on-two sound? Myself and Deude versus you two?"

"Define 'you two'," Felix said, finally turning to face us. His intense gaze locked onto me. "Ugh, there's another one now."

I cleared my throat. "You must be Felix. My name is Link. Prince Dimitri is allowing me to accompany the army to Fir-Dyad." I extended my hand to shake, my best nonthreatening smile on my face. The other swordsman reciprocated only with a scowl. Great. I was being partnered with an edgelord.

"Let's just get this over with," he drawled, tightening his grip on his own blade. I unslung my Mirror Shield from its place on my back. From a dozen meters away, Dedue readied his axe while Dimitri leveled his lance. Silently, I observed my foes with a lucidity I had lacked the last time we crossed blades. Dedue was a wall of flesh and muscle, easily dwarfing me and certainly outclassing me in terms of raw strength. He would hit hard, but he would be slow, hopefully slow enough that I could dodge or block any lethal blows. I supposed a victory by a thousand papercuts would still be a victory. Prince Dimitri, on the other hand, seemed more balanced. He was certainly faster, and had greater reach with his spear than Dedue's axe. But he wouldn't hit as hard. Hopefully.

Felix was the first to move, swiping swiftly at Prince Dimitri, who blocked with the haft of his spear. If Felix had Dimitri covered, I would have to keep Dedue from tag-teaming. I was quick to engage, interrupting a brutal chop with the garish face of my Mirror Shield. I could feel the shockwaves from the impact coursing along my right arm. It would seem that my assessment was correct. My combatant's weapon was now traveling in a horizontal slash, which I backflipped out of the way of, mere hairs away from the edge. I darted forward as soon as I could, bashing my shield into his abdominal because it was easier for me to reach. I tossed a glance towards Felix, whose sword was locked with Dimitri's lance. Unfortunately, this gave Dedue enough time to recover from my initial attack and land a solid strike on my chest. I wasn't used to having to worry about other people while fighting. In addition, I was used to fighting beasts and monsters and the like– things that didn't really have the mental capacity to fluidly feint and counterattack like Dedue was. It didn't take a genius to observe that I was sorely outmatched. I could break into my trove of other items, but I didn't want to do that. This was a friendly– hopefully– spar. If I was going to win, I wanted to win by my own skill, not by pulling a win condition out of my ass.

I managed to land a vertical swipe, quickly putting distance between myself and Dedue so that I wouldn't suffer a brutal counterattack. Unfortunately, something large and heavy slammed into my back, knocking me directly into the wet ground. I awkwardly shoved the offending object off of me so that I could breathe, eliciting a noise from Felix, and rolled over onto my back before springing to my feet. Had Prince Dimitri thrown the blue-haired swordsman at me? Fair play to him, but…

"I think this counts as a victory," Boar Dimitri mused.

"You haven't won yet," Felix growled, getting back into a ready position. "May be stuck with a midget, but I'm not out of this!" Wasn't he the idiot who had been thrown? I had been holding my own against Dedue just fine!

"It hasn't ended…" I affirmed. Halfway through my sentence, I flung myself at Prince Dimitri, preparing a powerful overhead slice before switching to a horizontal slash. "... Until it's ended!" It felt like my opponent was at least two steps ahead of me, his lance always perfectly positioned to block my every attack. Interestingly, he was not fighting back. Instead, he was observing. Waiting?

There. Prince Dimitri reared back to strike, and I shifted my Mirror Shield to block. I realized too late that was exactly what he wanted. Almost quicker than I could react, the spear slammed into my opposite side, waves of pain coursing up my side. Dimitri was stronger than me too?! I mean, it wasn't exactly a high bar to cross, given that I was still biologically a child, but still…

I could only hear the blood pumping in my ears, a roaring crescendo, a metronome defining the rhythm for the symphony of chaos that this fight had become. I grabbed the haft of Dimitri's spear before he could try for another strike. I pulled it forward, and while the prince didn't let go, his body was drawn closer. I rammed the butt of my sword into his now-exposed face before instinctively reaching into my pouch. It was only when my fingers curled around the wood that the horrible momentum abated and I realized what I was doing. Had I seriously been about to bring the Fierce Deity to bear against the so-called boar prince? What was I thinking?!

But I wanted to. Oh, how I wanted to put it on my face and show my true strength.

I barely processed the shaft of the spear leaving my grip. I narrowly managed to intercept Dimitri's strike with my own shield, but the force of the impact flung me backwards ten paces, leaving twin tracks in the mud as I struggled to not fall over. The lance-user was giving chase, so I lunged forwards, grazing his right cheek with the edge of my wooden blade. Dancing out of the way of a counterattack, I drew back my blade to strike again. If I was fast enough, I could get around his guard and land a more substantial blow.

The ground gave way under my feet.

Due to the rain, the ground was more pliant than I had been anticipating. Thus, when I shifted my body weight to swing, much of the force from my lower body went into deforming the earth. This took crucial might away from my swing.

And Prince Dimitri was able to halt my blade with his off hand.

I tried to pull it back, but his grip was like a vice. With seemingly no effort at all, he wrenched the sword from my grasp. It had, in fact, ended. "Guess I'm dead," I surmised, slinging my shield back into its rightful place on my back. "Well fought."

"I could say the same to you," Dimitri grinned. "Now that you aren't about to die of hypothermia, your speed is nearly unparalleled."

"Obviously not fast enough," I countered. "It felt like you were always two steps ahead of me."

"That was pathetic," Felix commented with false apathy. I'd like to see him do any better. "Whoever trained you did a horrible job."

"I trained myself," I countered somewhat hotly. "Besides, didn't Prince Dimitri literally throw you at me a few minutes ago?"

"Tch."

"That's enough of that," Boar Dimitri placated. "You both fought well, and the morning is still young. How does a three on one sound?"

By midday, I had been thoroughly and completely humiliated.

Dimitri, Dedue, and Felix were all so much better than me at the art of fighting, even accounting for age and physical strength. They were about as old as I had been after my little seven-year nap, and outclassed me even further than the older-yet-younger me back then. Sure, I probably could have fared a bit better had I used everything available to me, and the base urge to attach the Fierce Deity to my face for the sake of the fight was all but all-consuming for some reason, but I had to restrain myself. It would hardly be respectful.

I had never felt this way about the Fierce Deity before. I had been almost scared of it ever since I first put it on, on the moon. Arguably, I was even more scared of it now that I desperately wanted to stick it onto my face for no discernable reason. This was completely out of left field for me.

The rations we were given by the army were surprisingly tasty, or maybe my standards were just really low. I got more weird looks than I had ever received in my entire life, but I suppose that was to be expected. I was a random child who hadn't been there yesterday, wearing Prince Dimitri's comically oversized clothing. Even still, I wasn't a huge fan of their eyes. Maybe I should put on the Fierce Deity's Mask. Then I could really give them something to stare at. What was I thinking? I would have to get this checked out once I was truly and properly alone.

I left Prince Dimitri, Dedue, and Felix in the mess hall. Maybe what I needed was some space. That was probably wise.

I could feel the layered enchantments weaving the air as I passed a brazier. It must be repelling the strength of the snowstorm, heavily reducing the amount of accumulated frost on the ground in the camp. Further out, I could see the storm in full force, nearly a foot of snow having piled up. That was a… lot. More than a fifth of my height. It would have been a lot less if I just–

What was wrong with me today? No, it wasn't just today– in the fervor of yesterday's events, the urge to don the Fierce Deity was all but overpowering. It hadn't been like this until I came to this world. I couldn't stand this… desperate need. I began to move with greater purpose, into the depth of the storm. I ignored the biting verdant wind, the stinging silver snow, as I continued my trek, trampling a bush of crimson flowers while keeping my head down, away from the glare of the azure moon. When I decided I was sufficiently far away from the camp, I rummaged through my pouch. At the last moment, I questioned what I was doing. The mask's dark power had been just as bad as Majora. What if, in this world, there was some unknown side effect? What if I became like the Skull Kid? In my quest to quell the hatred of my own body, would I doom this entire world?

I supposed that question was rendered rather moot when the surface of the mask attached to my face. The transformation began at once. Every shred of myself was instantly twisted and rearranged, elongating, my entire being unfurling into the form of a dark god, splashes of war paint adorning my face. Gone was the gaunt echo of youth I had hated. This was the me I was supposed to be. Well, no, it wasn't really that either. This was the mask. Not me But it was closer to who I was than myself.

"I… apologize," I spoke, unbidden by my own mind, "for my manipulations. But they were unfortunately necessary."

The mask felt… different than it had in Termina, when I had last donned it. It felt… warmer. More alive. A current of unfamiliar magic stewed beneath it, not unlike the magic from the braziers but not quite like it, either. Had this world… activated it somehow?

There were no doubts in my mind that the Fierce Deity was speaking through my lips. Panicking, I brought its hands up to its face to tear off the masks, but I found that my-its-our fingers would not close around the edge of the mask. "I would not do that if I were you," my voice echoed. "This procedure is very delicate."

What are you doing?! I wailed, but the words were locked inside my mind. The Fierce Deity made no indication that it had heard me at all. At a moment's notice, all I could hear was an unbearable screaming cacophony, so loud and terrible and strangely beautiful that I thought my eardrums would rupture long before it was over, despite the fact that the sound was coming from within my own mind. Suddenly, as soon as it was there, it was gone again. A breath escaped our lungs.

As I said, I apologize for taking control of your emotions, a voice that was not my own whispered. I knew, somehow, that it was the Fierce Deity's true voice, not constrained to the physical limitations of my own tongue and mouth. In order to establish a connection, I had to assume control for a time.

"Can you… hear me?" I croaked through our physical mouth. I stared at our gauntleted hand, clenching and unclenching our every muscle just to see how much control I could exert over the Fierce Deity's body. It seemed… that there were no limits at all. Like it wasn't even trying to stop me.

Of course I can, the mask chastised. Now that the link is formed, I can hear your thoughts, as you can hear mine.

I decided that I really didn't like this. I was quick to take the mask off, swiftly reverting to the form that I hated but just had to accept, if it meant the Fierce Deity couldn't worm its way into my head.

Do you really think so lowly of me? I already apologized for seizing control of your mind, what more do you want?

I nearly dove into a snowbank in surprise. I guess I wasn't getting rid of it that easily.

Why did you do this? I thought.

It simply wouldn't do if we were not able to communicate, the answer came. You are my champion, after all.

Champion? I echoed.

You… intrigue me. More than any mortal that I have conquered before. Simply calling you a host felt… wrong, somehow.

I resolved to never wear the mask again.

Curious. I offer my might to you, with no strings attached, and you refuse it without a second thought.

I paused. I don't understand. If you've dominated so many before me, why–

Paranoia is a strong instinct to have, the Fierce Deity commended, but it is not necessary in this case. I offer you no Faustian deal, no subtle corruption. As long as you draw breath, my power will be yours to command.

I don't believe you, I snarled internally.

Believe what you will, the Fierce Deity shot back. It does not change reality.

I started trudging back towards the Far Gus camp. Well, if you're going to be living in my brain, what do you want me to refer to you as? I've just been calling you 'Fierce Deity' this entire time, but somehow that doesn't feel right.

You would be correct. That is not my name. You may call me Katáktisi.

Katáktisi… That did sound more correct, somehow. So, this has been nagging at me for a long time– why do you look so… like me?

Katáktisi did not reply for a long moment. I had once intended to break you, as I had done to countless others. Melding my appearance to match that of my host gives them the impression that they were meant to wear me, leaving them more susceptible.

So why didn't you–

You have asked enough questions, Katáktisi stated abruptly, like it was trying to dodge the subject. Do not broach that topic again.

I wisely stopped talking. I didn't know what the newly-christened Katáktisi was hiding, but I was certain that I didn't want to induce its wrath. I just had to not wear the mask, and all would be well– as long as it didn't mess with my feelings again. I was fairly sure it wouldn't do that again, though; it had already apologized for doing it to establish the connection.

I have no intentions of manipulating you, Katáktisi assured, and I felt inclined to believe it. But was that in itself a deception? If I couldn't even trust myself, how could I trust the mask in my possession?

You recognized that something was wrong when I twisted your feelings before. Perhaps you could not put it into words, but you did feel it. It was right, and I knew it in my heart of hearts. Hopefully, that would be enough. It would have to be.

Hehe, Katáktisi go brrrrrrr

Believe it or not, this fic was initially meant to be similar to "Support Conversations with the Hero of Time" by ChankoLegacy (go read that lol). Of course, it then spiraled into– well, this. I actually have full support chains for Byleth (excluding S support because Link will be, like, 17 post-timeskip), Seteth, Cyril, Ashe, and Dimitri, as well as plans for Raphael, Leonie, Hubert, Felix, Flayn, and Petra. I'll probably end up working those into the story as I see fit.

Hear me out– if you leave a review or comment, I'll respond to it here!

Black. cat.002 (FF): You're very welcome! In terms of most fanfiction interpretations of the Hero of Time, this one is pretty good at dealing with Hyrule and Termina. Granted that isn't saying much, but… it's something, isn't it?

ExtraSavoirFaire (FF): Thank you very much!

Primus1661 (FF): Thank you! I got the idea for this fic when I noticed that if you put Cyril and Dimitri on two ends of a sliding scale, Link is smack-dab in the middle. He actually does think about his ears and actively hides them.

Backpack Bandit (FF): Thank you very much!