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It was a strange set of circumstances, really.
The deity had been hidden away for some time. Not much time, when one considered the span of eternity, but enough that it had begun to go dormant, to tuck itself away and let its awareness drift until it was picked up once again.
But then there were familiar hands on the wood of the mask, and in a flash of light and power, the deity stepped back into its old vessel.
And it paused.
There were no enemies, here. It could see no battle to win. All it saw was thick snowfall, the side of a mountain, and eight shivering beacons of the Unbreakable Spirit.
The Captain stepped forward, bundled in several more layers than usual, his teeth chattering as he spoke. “F-Fierce Deity.”
“Captain.” The deity looked around once more, feeling… confused. Why was it here? “This is not a battlefield.”
“N-No. We need to get up th-there,” the Captain said, pointing toward the summit, where the deity could see a small smudge against the white of the blizzard. “Wild s-says there’s a cabin. It was… t-too f-far for us to get on our own.”
The deity considered that. It could feel the cold that had set into Link, though the elements could not harm the deity and would not harm Link so long as he wore the mask. The cold could be dangerous for mortals, though, and while there were articles of warming magic scattered through the group, it was not enough to protect them entirely.
Very well. The deity nodded; a different type of battle, a different kind of fight. “We shall make haste.”
The Captain slumped slightly in relief, and the deity moved past him to take the lead.
It knew very little about the way mortals reacted to the cold. It had rarely fought in the snow. But the cold could not harm it, and it knew that forcing their way through the deep drifts would be challenging for the heroes; their spirits may be unbreakable, but their bodies were not. So the deity led the way, taking on the task of forging a path through the snow for the others to follow.
Progress was… slower than it would like. It could have moved faster alone, without heroes to account for. But the fight would not be won with speed. Its task was to get Link’s allies to safety, not to reach safety itself. So it kept to a steady pace, as quickly as the heroes behind it could go. That pace slowed as they progressed and the cold grew more bitter.
Finally, however, they reached the cabin. It was small, and made of wood, but the deity heard the exclamations of relief as the shape of it loomed through the falling snow. They needed shelter of any sort, and this certainly qualified.
There was a covered porch, so the deity did not need to dig snow away from the door. It merely needed to reach the steps, and the heroes could all pile onto the porch and then into the cabin.
One of the youngest - Tune, it thought, but no, not yet - grabbed its hand as he passed. He was bundled in the Captain’s scarf so that only his eyes were visible. “C-Come on!”
The deity sensed no danger out in the snow. It allowed itself to be led inside.
The Hero of the Wild dumped an armful of dry wood in the fireplace, and the Hero of Legend ignited it with a well-aimed jet of flame from a fire rod. A cheer rose from the others.
“Alright,” the Captain said over the excited clamoring that was beginning to rise. “First thing, everyone get your wet clothes off. We’ll need to get them drying for as long as we can, and you’ll be much warmer in something dry.”
That got some grumbles, but the heroes began to take off their outer layers. Some, like the Hero of the Four Sword, sought the privacy of the sole inner room to change completely, and some began to take out blankets and dry clothes from their bags.
The deity just… stood there. It was not used to feeling uncertainty, nor confusion about what it should be doing. Link had made no bid for control of his body - too exhausted, more than likely - and regardless, the deity knew that it was too cold to safely allow him back into it. But it had now served its purpose. The task was done. This… confused it.
The Hero of the Winds pulled down the loops of rich blue fabric around his face, then tugged at its hand again. “Come on, that means you too.”
“The cold will not harm me,” it told him.
“No, but it’ll hurt Time. You’re in his body, so you need to warm up,” he said matter of factly, tugging a little harder.
The tugging would not move it, he was not nearly strong enough for that, but the deity followed his direction. What else was there to do?
He sat it down in front of the fire, then began poking at its armor. “Can you take this off?”
“I can.” It was not sure why he was asking, but its armor was not welded to its skin. It could be removed, theoretically.
“Take it off, then!” The Hero of the Winds began fussing with one of the straps of its arm guards. “Wearing metal makes you colder, everybody knows that.”
… This was… new. The deity slowly began undoing buckles that had rarely, if ever, been touched before, setting each piece of armor aside with gentle care. The Hero of the Winds did his best to help, though he ended up calling over the Captain, who was able to undo the straps and buckles far more efficiently.
“I do this for Time whenever he lets me,” the Captain said with a wry smile. “I’m glad I can do it for you, too.”
“You do not need to.”
The Captain loosened another strap. “I know.”
The last piece was set aside, and the Captain laid them out so that they could dry without rusting, though there was no risk of that for the deity’s armor. Then the Hero of the Wild held out a large, soft piece of clothing.
“This sweater should fit you,” he said confidently. “We’re lucky I still have it.”
Very slowly, the deity took the sweater. “... Explain.”
“Wet things off, dry things on,” the Captain told it with a small chuckle. “Not much we can do for your pants, unfortunately, but the tunic needs to dry.”
The Hero of the Skies and the Hero of Hyrule were busily hanging a line by the fireplace, and once it was in place, they began draping wet tunics over it. Presumably, the others’ clothes would soon join them.
… The deity’s tunic was wet from the snow. It did not understand why they were insisting upon all of this, when it was immortal and untouched by the cold, but… well, if it were mortal, these would be practical concerns. They could be trying to care for Link in this way, ensure that his body had what it needed to be warm and comfortable regardless of the deity wearing it. That seemed a reasonable enough explanation.
It slowly took off its tunic, handing it off to the Hero of the Skies when he reached for it, and put on the sweater.
It did fit, surprisingly. And it was very soft. The deity ran its hand over the sleeve, just once, to process the texture. It had never worn something like this - slightly lopsided stitches, something made by hand with care. It was new. And very different.
The Hero of the Winds, wearing a borrowed tunic much too big for him, tugged the deity over onto the steadily growing mattress of blankets and bedrolls in front of the fire, then tucked himself under its arm.
… Why, the deity was not sure.
“I do not… understand what is happening,” it said quietly, its brow creasing slightly as it stared into the fire. It hated to admit to a thing like that, but… it truly did not understand. This was not what it was for. Perhaps it would be best to let Link take over once more.
“We’re getting cozy,” the Hero of the Winds said matter of factly, as though it were immutable truth, and snuggled closer.
The deity was uncertain what that meant.
But… well, he certainly seemed comfortable. Not at all frightened or tense. He seemed at home there, curled against the deity’s side. The deity cautiously brought its hand up to rest on the boy’s shoulder, like it had seen Hylians do.
“Here,” said the Hero of the Wild, handing it a steaming mug.
It took the mug. Whatever liquid was inside was dark, and it could feel the warmth of it through the clay.
The Hero of the Winds eagerly accepted his own mug, taking a hasty sip. The instant he did, he recoiled, making a sound of pain.
The deity was on guard for a threat - surely nothing had escaped its watch, not when the boy was right there - but the Hero of the Wild merely sighed.
“You need to wait, Wind,” he admonished. “Let it cool down first!”
“But it’s tasty,” the boy whined.
“It’ll be way tastier when you aren’t burning all of your taste buds off!”
“Spoilsport!”
The deity watched them bicker impassively. One by one, the other heroes settled down around them, in various states of dress. Some, like the Hero of Twilight, had elected to go shirtless, some wore what looked like sleeping garments, and some wore dry versions of their everyday wear. All of them were relaxed and happy, accepting mugs from the Hero of the Wild and relaxing in the warmth of the fire.
The Hero of Legend winced as he sat, and when he was given his mug, he merely wrapped his hands around it, soaking in the heat of the drink. The deity noticed he was allowed a seat closer to the fire than most.
A few heroes actually leaned against the deity as they relaxed - the Captain found a place opposite the sailor, and the Hero of the Wild put his head in the deity’s lap with a grin.
“You going to drink that?” he asked, nodding to the mug.
“I do not need to.” It had no need of food or drink. Link did, certainly, but that would not be a concern until he regained control of his body.
The Hero of the Wild shrugged. “Try it, at least.”
The deity did not understand these heroes. They kept treating it as if it were mortal, as if it were like them. Did they not understand that it was divine?
Perhaps… it was in thanks?
The deity had helped them, after all. The snow had been too deep for them to safely traverse alone, and without the deity’s help some of their number may have fallen. Perhaps they did not know how else to express their gratitude. Mortals were very strange, but was there not an honor in being treated as one of them, as worthy of inclusion in this quiet moment of warmth and stillness?
It took a careful sip of the drink, as the others had, noting the warmth and the sweetness of it. It was rich and smooth and… and good. The deity… rather liked it.
“Well?” asked the Hero of the Wild, grinning like he had won something.
“It is good,” the deity told him.
He let out a small woop. “Everyone loves hot chocolate!”
“Wild,” the Hero of the Winds said in a wheedling sort of tone. There was hot chocolate on his upper lip, giving him the illusion of a mustache. “Do you have any marshmallows left?”
“Only a few, and no, you can’t have any right now,” the Hero of the Wild huffed.
“Come on, please?”
“Wind I swear to Hylia -”
“C’mon now,” the Hero of Twilight cut in. “Let’s not argue over this. Can’t we all just be comfy an’ relax?”
The two sighed, but begrudgingly agreed.
The deity took another sip of its hot chocolate. This was an exceptionally unusual day, and it was still very confused about nearly everything that was happening. But the situation was not… bad. It did not mind what was happening, really.
It closed its eyes, taking a moment to step inside the mask.
Link was lying on his back in the reflective void, eyes closed, though he cracked an eye open as the deity walked over and sat beside him.
“Do you wish to return?” it asked quietly.
“Not yet.” Link gave it a smile. “Thank you for getting the boys out of there in one piece.”
“Of course.”
“What do you think of them?”
The deity considered that for a moment. “They are… unusual.”
Link laughed. “That they are.”
“I do not understand them,” the deity admitted. “They do not seem to grasp that I am unlike them.”
“They know you are.” Link reached out to run a hand over the sleeve of the sweater, still present here in this mindscape. “They’re good boys, that’s all. They’re trying to make you feel included, and take care of you - and me - the only way they know how.”
That… did make sense, in some way. The deity nodded thoughtfully. “I see.”
“I don’t think I’ll be able to stay awake very long when we take the mask off,” Link sighed, closing his eyes again. “When you’re ready to swap back, make sure we’re somewhere I won’t hit my head, okay?”
That startled the deity, just a bit. When it was ready to swap back? That wasn’t how the arrangement worked.
But… somehow, in some odd way, it wasn’t ready. It wanted to finish its drink, it realized. It wanted to linger, just for a little while, in the warm glow of the fire with its hot chocolate and its sweater.
“Strange,” it murmured.
“What is?” Link asked, though the expression on his face suggested he already knew.
“They are contagious.”
Link laughed at that, bright and warm, and the deity blinked back to reality with no time lost, the tiniest twitch of a smile on its lips.
It would return Link’s body soon. But not yet, it thought, taking another sip of its drink and glancing down at the sailor, who was blinking sleepily under its arm. Just a few more minutes.