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Twilight supposed his first mistake was agreeing to play Truth or Dare with the other heroes. That game was pushy enough with the members of the Resistance, but with eight other dorks who were too nosy for their own good? Yeah, there was no way it was going to end well. And Twilight should have seen it coming.
Spoiler alert: he didn’t.
It had started out innocently enough. Time, being the mature adult, sensibly asked Four what the most difficult thing he’d ever forged was.
By the standards of the game, it was incredibly mundane, but it didn’t stay that way.
After describing a Zora-style sword he’d made for a “People of Hyrule” showcase in more than enough detail, the resident blacksmith had gone on to dare Warriors to let Wild do his hair.
In hindsight, it was very obvious that it was the beginning of the end. At the time it had still seemed harmless, but they should have recognised the gleam in the captain’s eye for what it was - a warning of danger.
“Wind,” he said, very deliberately - and studiously ignoring whatever the hell Wild was doing with his hair, “truth or dare?”
And of course, Wind chose dare. This in itself wasn’t a problem, but it was received as the unspoken sign that things were allowed to get ridiculous. Twilight should have backed out right then and there, but he didn’t.
Fortunately, the dare was simply Wind attempting to explain the mechanics of trains in less than a minute. Twilight understood… maybe a quarter of it? And that included having sharper hearing than everyone else. The rest of Wind’s words were too quick to be decipherable.
It went on for a bit, with Wind daring Legend to sort all of his rings in five minutes (he failed miserably), Legend asking Sky what the most embarrassing thing he’d ever done in front of Sun was (accidentally - and awkwardly - told her she was prettier than a Loftwing because he was so star-struck by how beautiful she was he had no filter on his words - no one believed this for a second, they were childhood friends, for Hylia’s sake), Sky asking Hyrule about his romantic situation (Hyrule was too flustered to form a coherent answer, but Twilight was able to make out something along the lines of “Aurora’s really pretty”), Hyrule daring Wild to chug an entire bottle of straight-up Goron spice (which he did without gagging, somehow), Wild daring Twilight to arm wrestle Time while the latter was wearing his Golden Gauntlets and one of Legend’s power bracelets (Twilight almost won. Almost. He was close, really), Twilight asking Warriors about his reaction when Artemis asked him out the first time (apparently there had definitely been no flustered gasps and half-finished sentences before Warriors just kissed her).
That was probably Twilight’s second mistake: making it Warriors’s turn to ask someone truth or dare.
And of course he had to pick Time.
And of course Time had to pick truth.
And of course Warriors had to ask how long Time’s honeymoon had been.
“It was a nice, pleasant three days,” Time said calmly, his face betraying no signs of discomfort at the nature of the question.
Warriors raised an eyebrow suggestively. “Malon that desperate to get back to the ranch animals?”
Twilight really needed to get his mind out of the gutter. So did Time, apparently, if his response was anything to go by.
“I think she was quite satisfied by the animal that went on the honeymoon with her.”
And just like that, the entire camp was in an uproar.
Sky slapped his hands over Wind’s ears, a scandalised look on his face.
Wind pouted and kicked Four, who looked faintly like he wanted to vomit.
Legend choked on air and made a show of “blessing” Hyrule with one of his many magical rings.
Hyrule’s face was so red he vaguely resembled one of Wild’s bokoblins.
Wild’s face was just blank, like he wasn’t sure whether to laugh or to be disgusted.
Warriors, naturally, had no such issues, and was openly chuckling.
Time himself was roaring with laughter at everyone’s reactions.
And Twilight? Twilight wished he could go back in time thirty seconds and claw his ears off.
“I did not need to hear that,” he whispered. “I didn’t need to hear that.”
The noise soon died down, and before Time could open his mouth to ask someone else that dreaded question - truth or dare - Twilight repeated himself.
“I did not need to hear that.”
Time started chuckling again and clapped his descendant on the back good-naturedly. “Maybe it’s time to call it a night. I think Warriors should be on watch from midnight to three for that question.”
“I think you should be on watch from midnight to three for that answer,” Warriors replied, but agreed anyway.
Twilight’s third mistake was letting slip that he was, in fact, Time’s descendant. Due to the fact that Time currently didn’t have any children, Warriors - why was he so interested in Time and Malon’s… activities? - quickly put two and two together.
“If I’m not mistaken,” the scarfed hero said conspiratorially, “then that means the Old Man is getting some action while we’re at the ranch!”
Time refrained from comment, and Twilight sincerely hoped Warriors was wrong.
This led him directly to his fourth mistake, which could theoretically be perceived as his first: being able to turn into a wolf, thus having superior senses as a Hylian as well.
Sure, the wolf thing wasn’t really his fault, and therefore wasn’t really a mistake, but Twilight didn’t think the shadow crystal had ever been as much of a curse as it was the next time they were at Lon Lon Ranch.
The walls of the ranch were soundproof. The doors were not. The master bedroom and the guest bedroom where everyone was sleeping were down the hall from each other.
Twilight tried to tune it out, he really did.
But the noises, and the moans… were really noticeable, at least with Twilight’s enhanced hearing. And, being the dirty minded twenty one year old that he was, he couldn’t shut his brain off.
Thinking about - and hearing - his ancestors doing the horizontal mambo was… disturbing? It was unsettling, at the very least.
“I do not need to hear this,” Twilight muttered to himself at about one in the morning.
So, with that thought motivating him, he packed up his bedroll, wrote a quick note to the others saying that he was a pathetic, sappy country boy who missed his horse and was going to sleep in the barn, and marched himself out of the house.
Fortunately for him, there was a nice patch of hay near the centre of the barn that was easily arranged into a mattress for him to spread his bedroll on.
Even more fortunate was the fact that he could no longer hear a thing from the house.
The others teased him about his note the next morning.
Time, however, just smirked knowingly, and discreetly whispered in his protege’s ear at the earliest opportunity: “Maybe we should get you a pair of ear plugs for next time we’re here, Pup.”
“I did not need to hear that,” Twilight growled, ignoring how his face had flushed a deep crimson.
Time just laughed at him.
Twilight’s fifth and final mistake was merely associating with these assholes. They’d left Time’s Hyrule almost a month ago, now, and the topic of romance and children had once again been brought up amongst the Links.
That was when the postman decided to show up. He’d dropped off a handful of letters addressed to “Link,” then run off and left the heroes to sort out which letter belonged to which Link.
Twilight pretended he couldn’t see the shit-eating grin growing on Time’s face as he read the letter Malon had sent him. He pretended he couldn’t feel Time’s gaze on him as he pointedly ignored his suspicions about the letter’s content and asked Wind what his sister had sent him.
So, naturally, Legend had to take that away from him.
“You look awfully pleased about something, Old Man,” he said, crossing his arms.
Time shrugged. “Malon’s pregnant.”
Shit. His suspicions were right. Shit.
Hilariously, Time seemed to have a similar thought process.
“Oh, Nayru, Malon’s pregnant. I’m going to be a dad. Oh, shit. I have no idea how to be a dad. What if I’m terrible? What if my baby hates me? What if I do a terrible job? Goddesses, I might not even be there when the baby’s born! I’m already a terrible father!” he cried, running his hands through his hair.
Twilight snorted. “Calm down, Pops. You’ve had eight trail runs already, or did you forget about us so soon?”
Time nodded shakily. “Right. Right. It can’t be harder than saving the world, can it?”
“I don’t know,” Twilight replied honestly. “But hey, I’m physical proof that you don’t screw up too badly.”
At this, Time crossed his arms, looked at Twilight, practically stared straight into the younger hero’s soul, and deadpanned,
“I did not need to hear that.”
Twilight would later deny the fact that he cackled like a madman.