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Ravio stands at the base of the stairs, uncertain. It's been twenty minutes since Link snuck upstairs without a word, should he check on him?
He will admit the guy looked a wreck when he came in, but Link would usually complain at him just a little bit, even when he was tired from his travels. He hadn't even noticed Ravio had seen him. As the minutes passed, despite himself, Ravio actually became sort of worried.
Nope, absolutely not, he's not worried. He's only using this guy dangit. As his boots tentatively take him up the stairs to the bedrooms, he resolves that he’s just making sure his client/double hasn’t been sneaking around to hide a change of heart or something, and it’s only polite to check on the guy who’s house he’s squatting in at the moment.
Link’s bedroom door is ajar, kept open by the cloak that was covering the hero strewn crumpled and forgotten on the floor. Ravio notes that as odd, Link has a lot of equipment, like a lot a lot, but he treats it all well, to the point of returning his rented equipment in better condition than he got it at times. Ravio gently pushes it aside with his boot, holding onto the door.
“Mr Hero?”
No response.
The last time Ravio invited himself into the other’s room was when he literally broke in to put him to bed. That felt like a good enough precedent for the amount of respect the merchant had for his privacy, so he went ahead and poked his head in through the door. The room is cluttered, Link moved most of the hoard that was in his living room to his own room temporarily, but there’s still a clear path to the bed under the heavy curtains making the room dark. Through the light from the hall behind him, Ravio can make out a hunched bundle on the bed and two empty potion bottles strewn on the floor, with a third capped and waiting.
“Wakey wakey, room inspection.”
The bundle tenses and groans, curling tighter.
“That’s not very conversational, how about hello Ravio? Make any sales Ravio? Did you make dinner Ravio?” The merchant steps over the cloak and maneuvers through some neatly stacked books to a shelf, where he can turn on the bedroom lamp, “I didn’t make anything for dinner by the way, you still have leftovers.”
Still no response, and Ravio doesn't like it. Nothing is out of place really, Link is just firmly under the covers and not responding. Ravio learned pretty quickly from living with him that startling the hero was a legitimately as dangerous as poking a linel that’s holding forty hidden knives, so he wasn’t about to walk right up to him and rip the cover off, but something was just off enough about this situation for the merchant to gently pull the cover off the blonde’s face.
“Ah, I don’t think you want dinner” Ravio says rather dumbly, because Link’s face is twisted in pain and covered in a sheen of sweat that immediately throws the bunny clad male for a loop. He did not look like he could have dragged himself up the stairs just twenty or so minutes ago. For a second Ravio worries about if he can catch hylian illnesses as a lorulian, but as he fully strips the cover off the sweat drenched hero he can see that he may not have to worry about that after all. “Oh, Mr. Hero, your arm isn’t supposed to do… that.”
This is usually the part where the irritable hero says something like “no shit” and calls him a dumbass, because even though Ravio is no healer and neither is Link, the fact that his shield arm was bent in a spot it should not be and violently purple is pretty obviously a problem, but Ravio still gets no response past another pained groan.
Link’s good hand is clutching his stomach in his curled up position, and now that Ravio is closer he can hear it gurgling pretty oddly. In fact, now that he’s really looking at him, Ravio notes that the sweat leaking off him is oddly glittery and metallic under the lamplight, like nothing the merchant has ever seen before. He doesn't think about that part much more, because what he does know is that Link has a broken arm and a potion. He likely found it seconds before passing out from the pain.
Odd, but no matter, Ravio is always happy for another instance of “kindness” to hold over the hero’s head.
He gets to work angling Link’s head a bit upright on a pillow and tilts the forgotten potion to his lips. Link seems to get a taste of it and clamp his mouth shut, violently twisting his face away, but Ravio won’t let him reject it, “Come on Mr. Hero, you need to get that arm fixed at least,” he mutters, prying the weakly resistant blonde’s mouth open to administer the potion. Ravio needs Link alive and in working order to save Hilda, and that’s not getting done if he’s lying around in bed with a busted arm. Link consumes the entire bottle of the sickly sweet glittery syrup, but instead of his arm magically straightening itself out or at least regaining its color like he expects, Ravio’s sense of accomplishment dissolves into alarm as absolutely nothing improves and Link starts making wet, gurgling hiccups, spitting up red from his mouth and nose and gasping for breath.
Ravio jerks back and has to fight through the panic and remind himself that the glittery, metallic red is not blood, and he did not just kill his only ticket to saving Lorule, well, not yet at least. Ravio sits him up, hoping that the potion just went down the wrong pipe, and in doing so gets reminded of just how sweaty Link was getting under all that cover. It’s not that much more gross than the potion he’s currently trying to get him to stop regurgitating, but he still glances in dismay at the glittery moisture clinging to his bare hand.
And that’s when it hits him.
There’s two empty potion bottles by the bed. Ravio scans the room for Link’s travel pouch, looking inside to see yet another empty potion container sitting right at the top, recently accessed. How many potions did Link drink at once? How much potion do you have to drink to start sweating glitter? Ravio hasn’t ever been in a position to need much of the stuff, but he’s pretty sure that one of the ingredients is monster guts and Link was just fed his fourth serving.
Ravio’s little internal spiral about just how much worse he just made it for the hero breaks when his wet coughing fit fades to silence.
“Ok,” he breathes, “ok, it appears that I may have messed up, are you dead?” Ravio is back by his side in an instant, making sure he’s still breathing at the very least.
Link’s mouth doesn't respond, but his stomach does, and it does not sound happy. Ravio practically dives under the cluttered bed, dragging out a chamber pot, thankfully empty “Shit, ok, in there, throw up in here.”
Link does not throw up, staring at nothing through glassy lidded eyes as the lack of feedback from him continues to cause Ravio to short circuit into panic as he tries shaking him. This causes a reaction, but a bad one as Link jerks away and moves to try pushing Ravio back with his arms, one of which is still very broken. Ravio grabs it in his panic to get him to stop, which rips a pained cry out of Link.
“Sorry! I’m sorry, my bad, just, stop moving, dammit!” Ravio pushes him as gently as he can back down onto the bed, but the light pressure is what finally gets Link to eject the contents of his stomach, unfortunately mostly onto the bed, but even worse, on Ravio. Ravio just barely doesn't throw up himself at the sight, it’s pure red potion syrup and bile, the stupid idiot probably hadn’t even eaten food in hours before drowning himself in potion. One of which he fed him, Ravio remembers bitterly, letting Link bonelessly slump back into the bed.
Covered in sticky potion bile in a dimly lit room in another dimension has Ravio wondering not for the first time what on earth he did to get himself into this situation, but the grimace on his hooded face loosens a bit when he sees the state of Link. Yes, Ravio was basically using him to save Lorule and line his pockets in the process, but seeing him suffering physically isn’t enjoyable like seeing him suffer financially. The hero hasn’t uttered a single coherent word all evening, and Ravio doubts he’s even aware of anything, so the lorulian just takes his soiled robes off, risking his identity but absolutely needing to get as far away from the mess as he could.
He peels the sweat soaked tunic off Link in turn, pausing at the myriad of scars covering the hero’s torso where just freckles dust his own, but getting himself back on track despite this. He’s just using this guy, Ravio reminds himself, stupid empathy, it’s bad for business. Lifting Link as gently as possible, trying not to move the broken arm or shake him, because Ravio will scream if any vomit touches his bare skin, he notes that his limp double is running very hot. Link isn’t very heavy, and Ravio has him in a princess carry as he touches his cheek to Link’s forehead, humming in disapproval as, yep, that’s a fever. Ravio keeps his mouth shut and his movement stiff and slow as he transfers Link away from his own messy bed to the guest room across the hall, because he is taking no risks now that he’s exposed.
Once Link is deposited once again onto a soft surface, Ravio can think again and realizes with a deep annoyance at himself that all he did here was put Link back into the exact state he found him, except in a different bed and one less layer of clothing. The poor hero’s face was still twisted in pain, his arm was still a mess, and the guy was too out of it to even yell at him for it. Feeling very useless, he gets a cloth off the nightstand to wipe off the new layer of sweat collecting on the hero’s brow. It’s still vaguely glittery. He didn’t know anyone, nor what to do. He couldn’t tell if Link was asleep or not, tense with pain but otherwise still. Ravio had no clue there even was a limit to the amount of potions you could drink. You’d think the witch wouldn’t sell anyone enough to poison themselves if they had any integrity in business. What an amateur, not killing off your own customers is basic economics.
Ravio pauses, eyes wide.
The witch!
He leaves Link on the bed to go ransack his supplies again, producing a bell from the hero’s pouch and rushing downstairs, disturbing Sheerow as he rings it, and then subsequently freaks out because he just summoned some lady and he’s not covering his face. He dives for cover under one of his display tables as something flies by the window, sheepishly creeping out when no annoyed voice calls out to pick up a passenger.
An empty broom hovers innocently by the window, unaffected by the evening breeze as it bobs up and down, waiting for a destination. That’s… creepy, but Ravio is at least 80% sure that the broom belongs to a witch, if Link’s bitching about his annoyance at having to hang off the tip of it because she’s already riding the broom is accurate.
Thinking fast, Ravio writes a letter asking for help and describing Link’s symptoms. The broom looks more like an item than something with an ego, so Ravio ties the letter to Sheerow’s leg, the bird ever ready for delivery.
“Follow the broom home and give this to the witch, got that?”
The bird gives a little affirmative peep as Ravio opens the window for her. He addresses the broom, “Uhh, request cancelled, go back home?”. That seems to work for whatever reason, and the broom and bird fly off into the distance.
Right, good, help is on the way. Ravio’s seen the sheer amount of random errands Link takes on for literally every citizen of this place, so he’s sure they won’t just abandon him once hearing about the state he’s in… right?
Ravio stares out the window a little dumbly, every goody two shoes Hyrulian he’s met since traveling through dimensions has been all too eager to be helpful and cheerful, but he knew better. Growing up under a purple sky where everyone is either a thief or a cultist makes a guy a little paranoid. Ravio just sent out a note basically advertising, “Hey! I’m probably on death’s door, come steal all the cool ancient shit I got stored all over my house!”. One way or another, someone is on their way over here now, and every bone in Ravio’s body is telling him to book it so they do not see his face.
Ravio doesn't move, and keeps staring out the window. The moon starts to peek into the evening sky, as the orangeish pink light fades to a comforting blue. He’s nowhere near home, but he’s still himself, can still get out of this. He can always think of a plan.
Steeling himself, Ravio heads back upstairs, a bonus benefit of the hero here happening to be his own copy is the ability to steal his clothes. He mostly has things that look like short dresses for clothes, but Ravio manages to unearth a plain undershirt with a teddy bear face? That will have to do. Link isn’t doing better, having managed to soak through his second bed of the night, but that’s not going to be a problem much longer.
“Up you get Mr Hero” Ravio whispers sharply, acutely aware that his face is still in full view. He’s talking more to calm his own nerves than anything, “You’re going to have a nice nap on the couch until the witch comes to find you.” He lifts the sweat soaked blonde into his arms for the second time this evening. The only response he gets is a wet gurgly groan. Ravio wants to hurry, ideally he can get Link on the couch in the livingroom, and then hide until the witch shows up and does her witch healing or whatever and fixes him. Hopefully the Hylians have some kind of anti-potion to counteract the effects? Ravio has no clue, and he just wants this episode over with, but Link keeps making a whimpering sound that’s doing horrible things to his already racing head. He figures he’s jostling his broken arm too much, but that’s just too damn bad, the witch could be here any second and if she gets one look at his downturned ears, or the fact that he looks like he’s hauling his war ravaged near identical twin, his cover is blown.
Link shrieks so loudly as Ravio bounces down the first step that he almost drops him. Regrettably, Ravio is not a monster and freezes until Link can get his breathing back under control. “Scared the crap outta me,” Ravio mutters, trying to readjust his quarry to be a bit more comfortable. His injured arm must hurt way worse than his stomach when he’s moving. “I’m sorry, I just- hang in there,” Ultimately, this is all for nothing if Ravio somehow ruins his arm doing this. He takes a deep breath and resigns himself to moving as slowly and gently as possible, Link still letting out gasps of pain between shallow stuttered breaths all the way. It’s utterly distracting and successfully moves his focus away from moving Link quickly to moving him safely, but that’s to his own detriment.
Ravio freezes at the bottom of the stairs, arms full of hero and wearing a ridiculous damned teddy bear shirt, as standing at the front door glaring right at him is an elderly witch.
Broom transit time must be quick.
She narrows her eyes at the situation, angling her staff threateningly, “You a dark?”
All Ravio can squeak out is a tight “Pardon?”
“Hmm, good enough. Considerate of you to bring him down, these old bones ain’t one for stairs.” The old witch picks up a pail that she must have brought with her, then casually makes her way over to Link’s living room.
Ravio desperately wants his hood back because he doesn't want to think about what a stupid look he has on his face right now. That witch saw his face, his face that looks exactly like Link's. He’s dead, he’s so dead, it’s over-
“The hell are you waiting for boy? We don’t have all night!” she calls, sounding very annoyed for someone who just wandered in to find a stranger holding the country’s groaning hero.
Ravio swallows and follows her in, unsure but desperate not to be responsible for this anymore. She gestures to one of the tables that she stripped bare. Ravio purses his lips at the mishandling of his merchandise, but deposits Link anyway.
As soon as her patient was down, the witch started prodding. Link flinched away terribly every time she touched his arm or stomach. “Hmm… yes, foolish boy’s gone and done it again.” She forced one of his glassy eyes open, not impressed with what she saw, “You, dark boy, how much did he have? Your handwriting is atrocious, couldn’t make heads or tails from it.”
Ravio pouts, it was hard enough becoming fluent in the spoken language, “You came even though you couldn’t read the note?”
The witch rolled her eyes, “My granddaughter gave her bell to one idiot and I don’t know where she’s run off to, so when her broom came right back empty with that pesky bird squawking in my ear I knew it had to be something with this little disaster. Now, how much did he have, boy?”
“At least four bottles”
The witch furrowed her brow, “Golden Goddesses, he’s gotten worse. Lesser folk would be out by three.”
Ravio looked away, a bit guilty but dodges blame anyway, “...right”
“I’ve told this boy, I’ve told him, if you drink one and it’s not healing ya, don’t just down another! He’s been trouble with these since he was young, too much of a good thing I’d say, always coming back for a sample from young Maple.” The witch chides Link as she positions him straight on his back on the table, not that he’s in any condition to acknowledge the scolding, “How many times boy, proper meals and no more than eight in four days. So much in your system it’s useless. You, come hold him.”
Ravio freezes, halfway through sneaking out of the room. The witch glares at him and he has no choice but to go back to Link’s side, holding him still and steady. Ravio wasn’t sure what she was up to, and he didn’t want any part in it, but it looks like this is just his fate now. The witch was so nonchalant and chatty about the whole thing that Ravio almost let his guard down. Clearly this was a bad move, because she reaches into the pail and pulls out a deadly sharp knife, and Ravio is stuck holding a squirming hero. Immediately his mind rushes back to the fact that he’s not from here and clearly not a hylian in this guy’s house and his face is exposed and-
The witch slices a deep gash into Link’s arm, making him whimper and flinch towards Ravio as she angles the wound over the pail, blood weeping down into the container.
Hylians are insane, Ravio decides. Hylians are insane and he is going to die tonight.
This witch is only the third or fourth one he’s met, and now she’s doing a murder. Link, the one he’s spent the most time with, has tears actively streaming down his face as he squirms with the most pathetic amount of force Ravio has ever seen from the man. Lolia below, he’s helping her murder him. He needs him alive and he’s helping her murder him, “What in darkness’ name are you doing?”
The witch is unbothered by his sharp tone, “Hold him still, don’t injure his other arm”
“No, what? No, you stabbed him! I thought you were helping!” Was he missing something here?
“What goes in must come out,” The witch recites, like that’s basic knowledge or something, “Keep him still.”
Ravio wants to protest more, but Link is fading, desperate movement slowing to small twitches. He’s so cold, but he was just running a fever. Ravio is horrified, this isn’t just the guy he’s using, this is someone he’s been living with for a few weeks now. He’s white as a sheet and dying under his arms. The nagging headstrong hero isn’t even fighting anymore.
“Stop staring like I burned your house down boy, he’s only letting go.”
“But, I-”
“Listen, I stopped asking questions after he was swimming around on that dodongo back in holodrum, but clearly you’re new here”
That sentence was so stupid that it snapped Ravio back to the present, “Pardon?”
“PaRdOn?” The witch mocked, “Look kid, if this could kill him, Hyrule, heck probably the entire world would be rubble right now. Just trust the process, Hylia guides this one’s fate for better or worse.”
That’s not very reassuring, looking at the state of Link right then. Ravio lessens his hold, and instead brushes his hand against Link’s. His fingers twitch weakly.
The witch sighs, “If you care for him that much, get out of my hair and go make a bone broth.”
Ravio answers a bit too quickly, “I don’t”, because he doesn't. He’s using him. Nothing more.
“Sure, and put an egg in it, and beets.” She seems unhappy when Ravio hardly moves, “You can cook, can’t you?”
“Of course I can” Ravio snaps
“Well don’t be useless and get moving, keep it simmering even if you finish before I do, if it’s cold you’ve wasted both our time.”
Getting called useless after the absolute trip of an evening he’s been having hurt, but there’s truly nothing more he can do here. For the first time in his life, running to someone else to solve his problem for him didn’t make him feel better about it. He looks back at Link one last time before going to the kitchen, seeing him lying there sprawled out and pale as a ghost.
The witch makes a shooing motion.
He flips her the bird.
Ravio is mediocre at best in the kitchen, which makes him a professional compared to Link. It’s because of Ravio that the guy has herbs at all, so everything is on hand to make a passable broth. It was almost too simple, as Ravio was dissociating so hard staring at the finished thing simmer that he jumped out of his skin when the witch seemingly materialised at his side however long later.
“Smells good, I’ll give you that”
“Goddesses, warn a guy, lady!” Ravio hisses, nearly dropping the ladle.
“It’s Syrup, Granny Syrup to you troublemaker.” She chides, “I set his arm in a splint, he’s going to be shaking with chills, and he’s going to be confused, might not recognise you so keep your wits about. If his skin turns grey, or blood soaks through the bandages, pray. That might actually work with that one.”
“You’re leaving me?” It comes out in a much higher pitch than Ravio intended.
“My granddaughter is gone, missing I suspect, and my cauldron can’t be left unattended long.” she sighed, looking troubled, “My shop needs keeping, and yours has blood on the floor. Hope you took a nap today, you’re in for a rough night.”
“I figure.” Ravio will not admit to this woman how long he spends napping.
“Feed him often when the dizziness subsides, but not too much at once. Goodnight then”
“Goodnight” Ravio offers, he’s ready to be rid of her and focus his mind back on task, but she pauses at the door.
“I won’t tell Link, rabbit boy, it’ll damn near break his heart.”
Ravio will get a heart attack if things keep going at this rate. His face probably shows it, because the witch cackles, sharp and light.
“He’s always bitching about you, serves you right he’s causing you trouble. Wash the dishes more often if you really don’t want everyone knowing you’re here. Good luck tonight!”
Ravio’s eye twitches as she flies off into the night, but begrudgingly, it makes him feel better. One hylian knows his face, and it’s an old witch doctor. Maybe if she does yap they’ll think she’s senile. It’s still a secret identity if you reveal it to healthcare providers, right? He’s glad for the reassurance that his secret is safe at least, seeing the state of his double back in the living room.
Link lay shivering on the table where the witch left him, a splint on one arm and a tight bandage around the other.
“This is incurring so much interest, I am going to drain you of every last rupee so help me” Ravio scolds, hauling the guy once again.
It’s still not fun needling him when the only response back is weak shivers that don’t stop.
It’s thanks to Link’s own nagging that the lone couch by the fireplace survived the space’s transition from a living room to a shop, so at least Ravio has somewhere warm and dry to put him now that both the beds in the house are soiled. That’s still a problem as well, he needs to launder his robe quick before Link regains awareness.
Link leans into the warmth of the fireplace like it’s the only thing he can register, and Ravio drapes the couch’s old quilt over him for good measure, but it hardly makes a dent in his shivering. It’s about the best he can do for him right then, so the merchant begrudgingly makes his way back upstairs to the scene of the crime. Link’s room was starting to reek of stale potion, and Ravio would rather shut the door and pretend the whole mess didn’t exist, but he desperately needs his hooded robe so he resigns himself.
He very deliberately did not look at the sheets as he reunited with his precious one article of outer clothing from back home, but it did not save him from smelling them. He truly does almost leave right then, but the thought of the smell permeating throughout the house has him dragging the sheets off and balling them up, making noises almost as pathetic as the ones Link was making when having his blood drained. What crime has Ravio committed to be tortured so? Other than various counts of manipulation and breaking and entering. Those don’t count. Neither does the scamming. He huffs in annoyance, adding Link’s sweat soaked tunic and dress, because what’s one more at this point? More leverage, that's what. Link having a clean bed to recover in is just collateral.
The rancid bundle along with his own sheets all go into the washtub, it’s a convenient magic thing that’ll have it all clean and wet within an hour. He’s considering pulling it apart some time to figure out how it works. Something like this would sell like hot cakes for a pretty penny back home. If he ever does find a way back. Ravio happens across a heavy blanket while looking for something to get Link into other than just the pair of shorts he’s currently rocking. He hesitates bringing it along, but just adds that to his long list of might as well actions for the night and goes back in to check if the hero was even still alive or not.
Sure enough he is. Ravio drapes the heavy blanket over him and finally decides he’s earned a break. Link is sleeping, the clothes are in the wash, broth is simmering, and the exhaustion and stress is catching up to him. He sits himself down on the other end of the couch, inches away from Link and squeezes his eyes shut with a deep sigh. The old couch dips under his weight, and the fire creaks low and steady.
Nothing happens for a while.
Then Link’s breathing stutters just a bit.
Ravio eyes him for a moment, checking his status. Link’s eyes crack open, dull and unfocused, and slip closed just as easily. He twitches a bit under the blanket. Ravio figures he’s fine and drifts his gaze back over to the fire. He can hear Link continue to shift in small, twitchy movements, occasionally making a low noise here and there. Ravio tries to ignore him, but can’t when a ghostly cold forehead brushes against his arm.
Link managed to squirm up the couple inches out of the blankets to close the gap between them. Ravio considers moving closer to the end of the couch, but he notices that Link’s breathing went back to being shallow but even. Ravio pulls the blankets back up to his shoulders.
He tells himself he’ll move him in a second. Both of them are tired, it’s late. He’ll move him when he stops shaking.
Link does not stop shaking. So Ravio stays still.
They stay still for a good while, longer than Ravio means to. The fire keeps going, and Link keeps his head resting gently against his side. Ravio doesn't look at him, doesn't look anywhere really.
Until there’s a tap against the window.
He startles, then quickly recognises those impatient little thumps. He finally peels himself off the couch, and away from… that, to let Sheerow back inside. “What took you so long?” he mutters, sliding the window open. Sheerow swoops in, some of the night’s chill following her as she innocently perches herself near the fireplace. He can’t ever be mad at his little buddy, so he just tuts at her and closes the window shut.
Link stirs at that enough for Ravio to notice, his eyes open wider than they had been before. Those eyes follow him as he makes his way back over. Ravio does not like that, but his gaze stays glassy and distant. He needs to get his hood back on soon.
Seeing that Link seems that much more aware than before, Ravio adjusts his route to the kitchen, returning with a warm bowl of broth. Sheerow is immediately interested, but Ravio keeps the greedy beast at bay. “This is for our client, Sheerow” he huffs, pushing the little bird's beak away from the bowl as she perches on his shoulder.
Sheerow gives her best puppy dog birdie eyes, but the merchant knows that there's only one thing that keeps his courier out so late during a job, and the witch likely fed her already. He's so proud of his greedy little hustler, a bird after his own heart, but that's not helpful right then.
The bird does eventually leave him alone, admitting defeat and returning to a perch, and Ravio is finally able to get back over to Link. He shifts behind him, bracing a hand behind his back to ease him upright just enough to drink.
Link makes a startled sound, like he didn't even know anyone was there with him, and squeezed his eyes shut. Ravio remembers the witch saying he'd be dizzy, and gives him a minute to reorient himself after the change in position.
When the tension finally eases back out of Link's shoulders and he slumps onto a position where Ravio can keep him steady, the merchant lifts the bowl to his lips.
“You probably don't remember, but I made you drink another potion when you were already sick. That's my debt, so I guess you can have this one as a freebie” Ravio tries not to let too much genuine guilt bleed into his words. He doesn't know if Link understands what a huge boon he's getting now, but he swallows a meager amount of the broth after a moment of hesitation.
It's a tedious process, Link seems to have to manually will himself to drink, pausing for a long time after every sip, but every time Ravio wants to try to rush him, he thinks back to force feeding him that potion just a few hours back. He doesn't want to see the blonde cough up his hard work a second time, and he's definitely more fragile this round as well.
When Link turns his head away this time, Ravio doesn't push, and instead pulls the bowl away, placing it on the floor. His eyes had long slipped shut while he was eating, and Ravio doubts he'd be awake much longer. He figures Link may choke or something if he lets him lay back now, but he neglected to get anything to prop him up on, the loopy hero slumped heavily against his arm. Trapped once again, there's not much for him to do other than watch the soft exhales leaving the hero's lips. The warm broth finally cracked his constant shivers and he's oddly peaceful.
Ravio remembers the first time he found him, passed out cold in the sanctuary. His dark eyes suggest that he must not sleep this deeply unless something like this beats him into it. Link is comfortably cool, the couch is soft, and the slow crackling of the fire lulls the merchant to sleep.
He wakes not long later to the annoying “shlup shlup shlup” sound of Sheerow pilfering the forgotten remains of the broth. He tries to stretch, but his arm is painfully sore. There's a weight on him, and he finds that Link had slid down off his arm and had his head laying in his lap.
Ravio’s first thought is that he's all curled up like those stray cats that roam around theives town. They'll lay on you if you've given up enough milk as a toll.
His second thought is, oh shit, where's my hood?!
Ravio quickly and surgically removed himself from under Link, the hero mutters something but stays asleep, thank the Goddess. The laundry had been done for a while now, it must have been just one or two hours from dawn, so fortunately things had dried just a bit. He finished the job quickly on his robe with the tornado rod, he had yelled at Link for doing this a while back but he has to admit the man is clever.
Safely under the protection of his big purple rabbit facade once more, he puts everything else to dry in the more traditional manner on the nearby racks.
Ravio finds Link struggling to put on the nightshirt he left for him. He had forgotten about that, Link must have found it between the blankets. He smiles beneath his hood, good, he deserves some struggle after the night he just put him through.
It doesn't take long for Link to fight his way in, but when he does he crumples back into the couch with an exhausted groan.
“Another battle valiantly won, Mr. Hero, that shirt sure had you for a moment there” it was high time he made his presence known, and that he definitely saw Link doing that. His polite demeanor slips right back on with the mask, have to be a good boy for Mr. Hero after all.
Link groaned again, but angrier this time, so Ravio was sure that he's actually back.
“Your damn bird eats like a toothless old man”
“Well that hurts poor Sheerow’s feelings, I may have to feed her more so she cheers up.” Sheerow is very happy with that suggestion, but it has the desired effect on Link, who grumbles and turns away. Back to polite concern, then,“Can you sit up?”
“I did sit up,” link strains a bit, but gives up, slumping back into the blankets, “ was a mistake. Should have stayed shirtless”
“Hmm that's too bad, you're gonna have to.” Ravio leans off the doorway to retrieve another soup bowl, ”Granny Syrup says you have to eat every time you wake up”
That gives Link the energy for his voice to perk up a bit, “Syrup was here?” he sounds genuinely surprised.
What was he expecting when got home on his own and tried to sneak past him? Sleeping off potion poisoning? The old witch acted like this had happened before, but now it looks like Link had fully intended to creep in here and ride it out without care. Ravio packs that little revelation away, intending to greet him at the door always from now on.
If he thinks he can crawl his way in here injured and try to skirt off the hero duty he dropped on him, he’s sorely mistaken. Especially if he's getting into situations he can only get out of by having his blood drained. Stupidity can be terminal. Instead of reaming him out though, Ravio just teases him, “You think I patched you up? Want some medical debt on top of everything else? Ambitious”
“Ha. Ha.” link begins to roll his eyes, but aborts the movement quickly when the dizziness kicks in.
Ravio dumps himself on the couch next to him, broth in hand, “I'm not kidding, you owe me for the emotional distress of finding you like that Mr. Hero, not to mention the laundry I had to do after you threw up everywhere “
“You finally did a chore? After freeloading for weeks? I should throw up more often.” Link huffs a laugh
The merchant does not find it funny, “Do it and prices quadruple permanently” he hisses, genuine sharpness bleeding into his voice,“You better stop talking and start eating”
“... Right”
Ravio was so glad that he's feeling better enough already to be riled up that he nearly forgot the guy was basically unresponsive just two or three hours earlier. Link begins to reach out for the bowl, but winces when the action reminds him of the state of his arm. The lorulian still isn’t happy about getting threatened with vomit of all things, so he lets him struggle a bit, innocently waiting with the broth in hand, knowing Link must be desperately hungry.
“You’re enjoying this, aren't you.”
“Quite a bit, yeah” He likes how Link can always sense his glee despite the mask. It reminds him of Hilda back home. The merchant finally offers a hand, helping Link into an upright position.
The blonde stiffens, adjusting as the room tilts, his breath hitching, “ugh, gimme a minute… sideways”
Ravio hums in agreement, getting your blood drained must do that to a person. He makes a mental note to never ever get hurt over here. Crazy hylians.
Once he looks settled, the merchant lifts the bowl up to his lips. Link squints at it like he's being patronised, but hunger wins and his arms are useless. He takes in a mouthful, pauses, and swallows with a contented sigh. “I've had this before?”
“Last night, yeah.” cautiously, Ravio prods him for more. He has to be sure, “Remember anything else?”
“Everything cramping, and the damn cold” Link grumbles, “Not my worst night.” He gives up elaborating, instead focusing on the broth. Ravio obliges, if it's only sensations he remembers, then he's made it through another day. Or night in this case.
They don't talk much more, Ravio has the confirmation he wants and Link is still exhausted. He drinks an amount the merchant is at least happy with, more than last night, before turning his head away.
He looks much better than before. He leans deeper into the couch, borrowing into the blankets.
“This blanket…” Link wants to comment on something, but stops himself. Ravio isn't sure what he was getting at, it's just an old thing hidden away in the laundry room. Instead he says, “what do you want for this one then, squatting bastard?”
Every last thing you have, “Just looking out for my favourite customer.”
“Don't bullshit me, come on” Link chuffs, eyes drooping.
Ravio considers it. He ultimately needs him strong. He needs him to save lorule. He answers firmly, “Get better as fast as possible, and don't do this again.”
“Really?” Link is quiet for a while, and Ravio almost thinks he fell asleep. Would have been very obedient of him. Instead, he keeps talking, “Thank you… you know, for the first time too. I don't think I ever said it.”
Ravio brushes him off with a sales worthy smile, “Thank me by renting out more often, maybe one of the rods?”
“Sure Ravio. Whatever. Forget it” he sounds light though.
“Goodnight Mr. Hero”