Chapter Text
“ Shit .”
Wild’s laughter after his friend’s (very light) swear, does very odd things to Fable’s heart and she’s not precisely sure what to make of them as the scarred young man nudges Flora’s side gently. “Watch it,” he’s all grins, and it tugs the skin on one side of his face tighter than the other, makes his eyes crease up in just a particular way, “Time might dock your pay if he finds out you swore in front of the baby.”
From behind the three of them, Legend’s eye roll is near audible . “We’re the same age .”
“Winter baby,” Wild’s boots pause so he can turn and point back to the pinkette, before pointing to his own self after, and Flora next to him “spring babies.”
A sharp brow rises. “ Same age.”
Fable giggles, just a bit, into one hand, turning to Flora in hopes of seeing similar amusement on the other girl’s face, just to see, instead, that her friend is typing away furiously at her cell phone, a pensive expression on her face that has both of the boys sobering up considerably once they notice it too. “What’s the matter?”
“Father.”
All three of the rest of them groan.
Flora looks every bit like she wants to do the same, sliding her cell back into her pocket with a huff. “Apparently his new investors are in town and thought they saw his daughter and charge ‘wandering about like hooligans’,” and her accent gets just a bit more pronounced as she says that part, face falling from the smile it’d held for most of the day, turning instead with one of those tired looks to Wild. “He wants us back at the house in thirty minutes, washed, dressed, and ready for company.”
“To make them think it wasn’t us,” comes the answer, slow, and knowing in a way she doesn’t care to hear, like it bothers him somehow, but he doesn’t feel like he can say it.
Flora nods, then glances to herself and Legend. “I’m sorry, I didn’t think he’d be so upset.”
“It’s okay,” she tries to assure, offering a smile of her own.
“You couldn’t have known your dad would be spying,” Legend adds, shrugging, before smirking briefly at her, nothing with fire, but a bit playful all the same as he adds, “next time, we can hit the town in places he won’t have anyone looking.”
Light touches Wild’s eyes again as he glances over, not to her, but to the vet, chuckling a bit himself now. “You are not beating the street rat accusations.”
“Rich kid.”
“By proxy.”
“Still a rich kid.”
This time, it’s Flora that seeks her eyes from between the two boys, rolling her own with an apologetic look once she’s met them.
“What does that make you then,” Wild challenges, crossing his arms, “if you’re spending time with us? If proxy makes you count as a rich kid then-”
It’s the theatre kid in him, she thinks, that has the shorter of the two boys flicking one hand in some dramatic motion towards himself, giving the slightest of bows to the other before the accusation is finished, and saying instead. “Fashion consultant, naturally .”
Wild snorts again. Dang he’s cute. “With the way you dress?”
Another cock of the brow, hidden mostly behind hair as Legend hasn’t fully risen from his impromptu bow, but the deadpan stare makes itself seen all the same. “I wear sturdy clothes I can afford to ruin, because my work is rough on them. I do know how to dress though, or did you not see me helping Flora pick the copious clothing in your arms right now?”
It is true. He had been a very big help for both of them- all three if she’s being honest- when they’d been at the previous few stores. His taste is good, even if his clothing doesn’t reflect it, and short of getting Styla to join them (which hadn’t been possible, much to their disappointment) she doubts that anyone else they know could have done better. Not that Wild really cares about facts, not when it comes to teasing the other, otherwise he’d know better given his own state of dress on most days (which is frankly horrendous, as Ralph as told her many times when he’d seen pictures of her crush).
Maybe the two would have kept picking at each other, smirks growing and making her heart keep doing summersaults, but that’s about when a black car pulls up right in front of them, the Bosphoramus family’s logo on the door, and interrupts them, prompting their party to split. Flora’s only just in the car though before her head pops out again, eyes wide as she stares at Wild.
“Shit,” she whispers it this time, Smith’s influence definitely warring against the fact that one of her father’s people is in the driver’s seat, “your bike!”
His bike . Frankly, that’s one of the things she’s more disappointed about, because as much fun as Fable’s had today with Wild, Legend, and Flora, she was really hoping she could manage to get a ride on the thing. Papa always liked bikes, and she’d wanted to ride one for forever, but the thought of getting to ride one with someone (a very particular someone at that), was definitely on her mind when Wild and Flora had pulled up to their meeting place this morning, riding on it.
“Oh feathers ,” Wild groans, head lulling back for a second as he stares skywards, realization smacking him abruptly as well, it would seem. After all, thirty minutes isn’t enough time to circle back to the thing, grab it, and still make it to the Bosphoramus house in time for whatever dinner they’re having with Rhoam’s investors. It’s unfortunate, but she’s also not sure how to help , given that she’s not legal to drive a car, much less a bike, and she can’t exactly call someone with a truck to grab it for him.
Does she know anyone with a truck? Twilight has one, right? Although- Fable winces- it's barely more than a hunk of rust with an engine louder than is reasonable, and every second seeming like it’s going to fall into pieces at the slightest provocation. Why he hasn’t replaced it yet is beyond her! She’s seen Lullaby’s books, it’s not like he isn’t getting paid good money!
“We’ll grab it,” Legend assures, while she’s lost in her head.
Mused and messy hair, all slipping free from a hasty ponytail, brushes over her fellow actor’s face as he regards the stage hand. “You don’t have a license.”
And he just shrugs . “Cops don’t know that.”
Excuse? “ I know that!”
Violet eyes don’t even blink as they slide towards her, a glimmer in their depths as the vet asks, “you have diplomatic immunity, right?”
She’s actually not sure on that one. She’s here with the ambassador, and is technically Mrs. Ambi’s legal ward, but she’s not family and is, by birth, still a citizen of Hyrule. However, she’s also a citizen of Labrynna, so.... “Duel citizen, it’s not the same.” Better to be safe than sorry, right?
“Right,” dusky eyes slip back to the watching actor with a grin, “if we get caught, I’m mute and she doesn’t speak Hylian. We’ll be fine.”
She can see the hesitation, and honestly, it’s valid. She isn’t sure of the idea herself, and Legend was most certainly not the person she was hoping to ride a bike with today, but Wild’s in a tight spot and they would be helping him-
“Fine,” scarred fingers dip into a jacket pocket to dig out the bike’s keys, holding them out for a paint-stained palm. “Just be careful with it.”
Even for all her fondness for this man, Fable does not fail to see the irony of that request, though she has better grace than to show it. Unlike Legend, who levels him with a deadpan look and declares, “I cannot believe you actually just said that to me .”
And gosh, the flush that creeps over Wild’s ears is adorable- so is the way he rubs at his neck and rolls his eyes away as he huffs, “Yeah, yeah I get it. Sorry about the props.”
“Which time?”
“Just leave the bike at the opera, okay?” And he’s moving, climbing into the car as it’s driver makes an impatient noise at them. “I’ll see you tomorrow!”
Goodbyes are cut off by the door being pulled shut, and it’s not a second later that the car is speeding off, leaving her and Legend standing awkwardly together on the sidewalk. All in all, not in her plans for the day. Not that she dislikes Legend at all, he’s fun really, and, again, his taste is immaculate, in friends as well as clothes, but she’s still a bit disappointed as she moves to follow him back to where Wild had parked.
“I cannot believe this!”
“It’s not my fault,” Legend groans into his hands, voice straining in an odd way, but she can’t make out his expression to tell why.
No, because at present, Fable is pacing up and down the length of a holding cell, in a police station! Like a criminal! “ If we get caught, I’m mute and you don’t speak hy-lian ,” the mockery sounds, heaved and huffed and thoroughly annoyed. “Fat lot of good that was!”
“I didn’t even start the bike!” Legend huffs back at her, finally dropping his hands, but not to look at her, just to... stare, at the wall. He looks resigned. He looks entirely too calm for the situation, which is (again!) that they’re in a jail cell at present!
Honestly! This guy! “Yet we’re still in here!”
“Because people are dumb and nosy,” he’s leaning back against the wall, eyes turned up but closed, jaw and shoulders tight as Rhoam’s hold on his daughter, but otherwise just he’s slumping where he is. He’s kind of pale, but again, he should be freaking out here! Why is he not freaking out? Why is he not more upset that they’re in jail?
It was a joke before, about him being a hooligan, right? Or was it a street rat? It doesn’t matter- Legend’s not the type to have been in juvie before, is he? He’s a blasted theatre kid! Those don’t have time to get into bad crowds, right?
“And yet?!?!?!?”
“We’ll be fine,” he hasn't raised his voice once since after they were dropped here and he’d been huffing at their arresting officer that they were making a mistake. “Your adult will come here, and mine will to, and whoever shows up can confirm that we know the bike’s owner and weren’t, in fact, stealing it.” Paint flecked fingers drag through his hair, and it’s the oddest thing to notice how the roots are coming in dark, but she does anyways, before glaring at him as he adds, “charges won’t stick, Fable. We’re fine.”
“I certainly hope so,” she grumbles back, plopping herself down next to him in some effort to contain herself.
Gracious, what will Mrs. Ambi say? What will Ralph say? They’re still wary about letting her go off into town on her own, always reminding her how different Hyrule is from Labrynna, how dangerous this city can be if you’re not careful. Granted, it’s probably better to end up in jail because of a mistake, where she’s arguably safer than she’d be in an alleyway, but it’s still going to make them fuss at her.
As if she didn’t have enough of that this last year, after Papa was killed.
She understands that Ambi feels guilty, knows that Ralph cares, especially after having grown up together, but it’s still been a lot. She’d thought being in the opera would help, but maybe not, if she’s going to end up in situations like these as a result of hanging out with the people there!
A horrid little part of her huffs that this wouldn’t have happened if not for Legend.
Another part reminds that she’d wanted to help Wild and Flora (mostly Wild), and that she’d not only agreed, but also been helping to try and move the bike when someone, she has no idea who, had called the cops on them, thinking that they were bike thieves of some sort.
Really, it’s all just bad luck, she supposes. Flora’s father being in a mood, the bike being so terribly beautiful and expensive (a gift, she thinks Wild had said, once), and Legend’s choice in oversized and ratty hoodie which, honestly, does make him look rather like a homeless person. Granted, her own nice clothes should have at least made it look like a bike-jacking (that’s a thing, right?), but here they are, both of them having been taken in, and despite jokes, there’d been no Labrynnian or fake mutism involved. It’s just a really crappy situation, she muses into folded arms, watching the hall for signs of anyone coming.
“We didn’t even get a phone call.” Is what she ends up saying instead, and it comes out like a pout.
Legend, at her side, just chuckles. It sounds hollow, and when she glances over, his face is tighter than she’d realized before. “Yeah. C’est la vie, I guess.”
“You’re not upset?”
“Currently scared shitless, if we’re being frank right now,” he sounds, “I’ll get mad later.”
Oh. Oh now she just feels bad for yelling at him!
“You know,” he’s not looking at her, but he’s trying to smile as he looks around the room instead, “my uncle actually met his last girlfriend here.”
Twilight? The single-most stable, honest, dependable man she’s ever met (other than Papa) dated a jailbird? “Really?”
“ Yep ,” he pops the ‘p’, tugging at his jacket sleeves as he answers, like he’s trying to cover his hands with them. “Some thug went after his little brother, a fight broke out, and he woke up here,” violet slide towards the hall, blank, face the same, voice worse. “Midna was in the holding cell too. Don’t know why, they never said, but it was certainly the interesting meet cute.”
Hang on. “Are you hitting on me right now?”
That has a reaction from him; dark eyes darting over, all wide and startled and shocked before he stammers out “what? Is- you thought- I'm not a total ass you know!”
Fable blinks back at him, not sure how to process that answer and thus just...waiting for him to finish.
“I don’t even- I have no interest in you at all! Like- no offense,” and he’s flushing now, looking quite uncomfortable and maybe more than a bit panicked (did she push him too far?) “You’re nice enough and good looking I guess-”
“You guess?”
“I live with actors!” His hands go up, sleeves falling back again. “And models! Statistically, my understanding of good looks is skewed so far that it’s hopeless! I have no clue what’s considered attractive unless it’s Artemis and Wars, and only because they have so many people simping for them!”
Not... untrue. Honestly, she hadn’t thought about it before, but Legend is, unfortunately, very correct. His perception of what the average person looks like must be very skewed indeed after a lifetime with the most attractive people on the planet just... chilling around him. Not that the face he sees in the mirror would help at all, because he’s not bad looking himself. In fact, he’s nearly unfairly pretty, for a boy, and it’s made her more than just slightly annoyed before when she’s seen him don a wig and dress to fill in on stage, because he makes a prettier girl than she does on some days!
“I do not like you,” Legend declares again, before adding, voice dropping again to strained and exhausted, “not like that anyway. You’re a good co-worker, and I enjoyed hanging out today, but I wouldn’t ask you out.”
She’s glad, but also, ouch . It’s silly to feel both at once, but, again , she’s just a girl here. “Thanks.”
He heaves out a sigh, still not looking at her. “Well, what do you want me to say?” And now he does look, face falling slack into something unfairly pleading and ridiculously passionate, as he declares “oh, Fable , you’re a woman unlike any before seen in this world! Sadly, I am but a mortal man, unworthy of your most gracious hand or so much as a look from your beauteous gaze! Thus , much as I adore you, I shall instead admire from afar, as I am not worthy to so much as kiss the ground where your feet have trod ! ”
It’s ridiculous, totally and completely, and makes her snort despite herself, pushing against him lightly, which is apparently enough to nearly make him topple over, dramatic expression fading to one of surprise instead. “I’m sitting , you idiot.”
“And I’m mocking you,” he snorts back, catching himself and settling again, violet slipping back to her briefly, just to be gone again when she tries to meet them, a breath sounding, measured and strained. “Made you stop yelling though.”
And it did. They’re quiet after that, he sitting with measured breathes and she fiddling with her sleeves, both watching the hall for the first signs of movement.
It feels like forever, but realistically, the clock in the hall (seen if they sit by the bars and crane their heads in just the right angle) indicates that it’s only about half an hour or so. Still, it feels far longer, so the second she hears a voice in the hall, hears the distinctive click of designer shoes and the catches a flash of red hair, well, she’s up already and sighing the biggest breath of relief she’s ever breathed in her life.
“-hearing from our lawyers!” Ralph’s voice is, of course, raised, very upset, and nearly music to her ears. All the better though when she hears keys accompanying it.
She doesn’t wait for Legend, doesn’t even glance at him as she moves for the door, ready the second it’s open to throw her arms around Ralph, who catches her like he’d expected it, pushing her away only a second after with an appraising look, taking her in, making sure she’s alright, before glancing at the cell and then promptly back at the cop. “You placed a diplomat’s charge in general lockup with some common trash? She is a lady! ”
“Sir,” the officer tries to assure, looking pained and very much like he wants to throttle whichever of his co-workers made the mistake he’s now getting yelled at for, “I assure you, we have someone-”
“How fast are your men?” Ralph pushes on, hands still holding her by the shoulders, defensive and outraged and, characteristically, over the top about the whole matter. “Fast enough to stop a fist? To open a door and stop whatever alley-trash you gather from injuring or possibly murdering someone? Without setting the whole lot free? My goodness, I didn’t know you were employing super-powered individuals here at the CCPD!”
She almost feels bad for the officer. Almost. And then she remembers that she got arrested for helping her friend and decides she’s allowed to feel spiteful about this. Sure, the guy isn’t totally to blame, but he also never gave them their phone call when they were tossed in here, and, also, he got ink on her jacket sleeves during printing.
That said, Ralph is currently insulting her co-worker and...maybe friend? They’re friendly at least, and they’d spent a day hanging out, even if it had been with other people as well, and even if the officer does deserve it, Legend doesn’t deserve the verbal abuse, especially after helping her to calm down earlier. “I was fine,” she interrupts, catching onto one arm still holding tight to her, making cerulean eyes, just a shade lighter than Wild’s really, flicker down to her. “He’s actually a friend,” she nods towards the cell, “we were shopping together.”
Thirty minutes ago, that answer had gotten her a mocking ‘shopping for a new bike apparently!’, but her sort-of-brother gives no such answer, just raises his brows and glances back in the cell once more, before turning to the guard.
He didn’t even have to ask, the officer just sighs. “We’ve contacted their guardian already.”
“Well,” the red-head hisses, ice in his words, “considering there is no current case against them, is it really necessary to keep them locked up while they wait?”
The officer sighs, says something about talking to his chief, and excuses himself. Cerulean bore into his back as he goes, leaving Fable and Ralph together outside the bars, while Legend is decidedly still behind them.
It’s weird. It’s uncomfortable. It always looked creepy on the telly, but it’s far worse in real life, and she hates standing on either side when she’s still close enough to see them, though it is nice to know she can leave now if she wants. And she does want, but she’d feel like a real ass if she walked away and left her friend alone in here.
“You’re okay?” Ralph sounds put upon, but she can see the worry in his gaze, so she nods quickly, smiling as best she can.
“Fine. Scared,” very scared, “but I’ll be okay.”
He nods, somewhat assured, hands slipping as he turns to glance into the cell now, actually looking this time. “And you?”
She glances back in, expecting to see Legend either still tense against the wall or watching with one of those passively curious expressions on his face, like he’s watching some sort of soap play out in front of his very eyes and is passing judgement inside his head on all the goings on. What she sees though is neither of those things. Sure, Legend’s still sitting there, knees up and crossed arms resting on them, but the expression on his face is far from passive amusement or tense annoyance. No, it’s oddly open, startled, all wide eyes behind messy hair as he stares, not at her, but at the redhead standing beside her.
“Ralph?”
There’s a full body start and then- “ Link ?” Shock sounds in his voice the same as it flashes in his face and Fable swears she sees the man stumble for a second before he moves towards the bars, careful composure shattered , “what the dickens?” And then, far more shocking than the fact that they recognize each other, he exclaims “we thought you were dead!”