Women Love Me, Birds Hate Me

Even if he hadn’t chosen to stay there permanently, there was no way Groose was gonna be kept away from the surface. In truth, he’d fallen in love with the place when he’d first landed there, despite the unfavorable circumstances. There was just so much down there. More land than he’d ever fathomed seeing, weird plants, even weirder creatures, the most adorable little birds, and also his friends.

It still felt a little strange to think of Link and Zelda as his friends (especially when only about a year ago his relationships with them could be more accurately described as “guy whose face he drew on a punching bag” and “object of extremely embarrassing romantic fantasies” respectively), but there wasn’t a better word for people whose company he genuinely enjoyed and valued, he figured.

Link, in addition to being cooler than Groose ever thought possible, was also just a fun guy to hang out with. He took great delight in showing him around the surface and telling him stories about what had happened where. Groose wasn’t sure how much of it he believed, but Link seemed to be having fun. Link even tried to take an interest in Groose’s newfound love of engineering, although the most he could do was smile and nod while Groose talked, clearly not getting any of it. Groose appreciated the effort.

Zelda was surprisingly receptive to his efforts to befriend her; Groose wondered if it had something to do with his taking care of Grann- er, Impa. Sometimes, they’d talk about her together, swapping stories about the woman. Thinking about how they’d both known Impa at different points in her life at the same time made Groose’s brain hurt, but it was obviously a comfort to Zelda to have someone to share her grief with. Honestly, it helped him too. 

So Groose visited the surface as often as he could, which was usually just whenever school allowed. Apparently, the other two had forgotten that they were all still technically students. Hero benefits or something. 

Because of this, Link and Zelda usually knew when to expect him, but they were absent one day as Groose made his way down. He could hear them- they clearly weren’t far- but he also heard something unexpected: the telltale vocalizations of an excited Loftwing.

Loftwings and the ground didn’t mix. They were perfectly designed for the sky, using their large wings and long primary feathers to take advantage of warm currents of air and keep themselves afloat with little effort. They wouldn’t land on Skyloft any longer than they had to, and a Loftwing on the surface was out of the question. Half the time, they wouldn’t even get close to the cloud barrier, which had necessitated the construction of his own makeshift sailcloth. But despite all that, there was no doubt about the crimson Loftwing prancing around the clearing.

At his bird’s side was Link, looking almost as happy. He ran his fingers through the Loftwing’s scarlet feathers, and Groose could hear the joyful beak clacking from here. Beady yellow eyes closed in delight, and the bird practically melted into his master’s touch. Zelda, who was standing off to the side, noticed Groose and greeted him.

“They’ve been at this for a while,” she said, gesturing towards the affectionate display in front of them, “You’d think he never goes back up to visit Red.”

That’s right, the bird’s name was Red. Groose remembered making fun of Link back when they’d all gotten their Loftwings for being so unimaginative, but he didn’t have much room to talk. His own Loftwing’s name was a closely guarded secret for a reason. They really needed to start giving people their birds when they were a little older and more prepared to name a living creature for the rest of its life. 

“That’s a Loftwing for you,” he said, “How’d you get him to come down here anyway? I thought they wouldn’t come near the barrier.”

Zelda sighed. “That’s what I thought too, mine certainly won’t. But Red just followed us down when we came back here. I guess he’s as stubborn as Link about getting what he wants.”

Link looked up and shot Zelda a glare, albeit a playful one. Red looked up as well after his master, and the Loftwing’s sharp gaze focused on Groose.

For politeness’s sake, Groose greeted the bird. “Heya Red, long time no see!”

Red responded with a low hissing noise, quite unlike the contented beak clattering of a few moments ago. It quite plainly meant ‘Back off’. Groose would have been more than happy to oblige that request if Red gave him any opportunity to do so. 

Instead, Red practically dove at him, and a very large, sharp beak jabbed him as hard as it could in the stomach.

“Hngk!” Winded by the sudden blow, Groose fell to his knees. Link stared at him, horrified. Zelda burst into laughter, which caused Link to redirect the horrified look at her.

Zelda! he signed at her, expression accusatory. He went over to Groose and helped him up, shooting a glare at Red as he did so. The Loftwing just huffed, clearly not guilted.

“Sorry, sorry.” Zelda walked over to Groose as well. “Are you alright? That looked like it hurt.”

“I’ve had worse.” Groose straightened his shirt, wincing as he did so. That was going to leave a mark. Red had meant business. “But that was uncalled for, man. Didn’t even do anything!”

Link looked at Groose, and then to his bird. You did kidnap him last time you met.

Groose didn’t typically feel guilty. It didn’t help anyone, and besides, Link and Zelda had both forgiven all past assholery. It was much more useful for everyone for him to focus his energy on doing better for the future. But those words sent a pit of remorse gnawing through his stomach.

“Oh. Right, I did do that.” It hadn’t even occurred to him that he hadn’t really seen Red since that incident. He turned to where the bird had been standing, hoping to offer a long-overdue apology. But before he had a chance, the air was filled with the sound of flapping. With another dismissive huff, Red took to the sky, not stopping for a second glance. 

Link whistled in a vain attempt to call his bird back to him. Red wasn’t having it. He continued upwards, until he was little more than a scarlet speck in the clouds.

“Guess that makes it Groose’s fault both times he’s ignored your whistle,” Zelda joked. Link gave her a look.

“Look, I really am sorry about that-” Groose started, before Link interrupted him.

We know, we know. You’ve made up for it. Red might just need more time to see it.

Zelda nodded. “Yeah, you know how Loftwings are. Nothing can hold a grudge like they can. I wouldn’t take it personally.”

Groose proceeded to fail miserably at following Zelda’s advice. He knew Loftwings were often stubborn in their loyalty to their masters, he knew his friends saw him for the good person he tried to be, he knew Red would likely warm up to him eventually. But, by the Goddess above, did he have to act like Groose was a parasite he’d picked out of his feathers? There weren’t enough words to describe what a blow to one's pride it was to be looked at like something you scraped off of the bottom of your shoe by a bird.

Now, when he visited the surface, Red was often close behind. There were no more attacks (for which Groose was grateful; he’d been sore for days), but the Loftwing quite plainly wanted nothing to do with him, making his disdain as obvious as he possibly could. And even after several visits, the behavior did not improve. Link apologized profusely whenever it happened. Zelda thought it was funny.

If Groose was a more honorable, noble man, he would have just ignored it. He wasn’t. So instead, he found himself formulating plans to get this nightmare to end. He was gonna be this bird’s best friend if it killed them both. 

His first idea was to demonstrate how much he cared about Link, and what he was willing to do for him. Really, this was covered under the whole “helping Link fight a world-ending abomination beyond the comprehension of the living” thing, but Red unfortunately was not around to see that. There were also no more world-ending abominations beyond the comprehension of the living around, at least that he knew of. Groose could improvise.

He ran into another hitch in his plan upon realizing that Link really didn’t need any sort of protecting or saving. His old sword (the one that apparently talked?) was gone, but the few remaining monsters on the surface fell just as easily to a regular old blade when wielded in his experienced hands. 

Still, he was granted an opening. On one particular stroll in Faron Woods, Link somehow missed the sound of a Deku Baba emerging from the ground behind him, allowing it to lunge dangerously close to the hero. Groose readied himself, perfectly poised to spring at the plant and dispatch of it. Unfortunately, he wasn’t fast enough. At a speed almost too quick to see, Red swooped in, gripped the plant by the stem, and tore it straight up from the earth. It writhed on the ground for a few moments, before vanishing in an unpleasant puff of smoke.

Link turned just in time to see the bird finish the kill. He stood in surprise for a moment, before smiling at Red and giving the feathers on his head a ruffle. Groose fumed in silence.

Protecting Link was a bust, but there was more than one way to show a person you cared about them. One day, he noticed that Link seemed agitated, and asked his friend what was wrong.

I just noticed I left one of my chisels back at Skyloft , he explained, One of my favorites for woodcarving. But I don’t want to go all the way back up there for something so little. I’ll just wait until we go back up to visit next.

Seeing an opportunity, Groose coaxed the location of the forgotten chisel out of him, and promised he’d bring it back for him. He flew back up to Skyloft as soon as he could, and approached the Knight’s Academy.

He’d be lying if he said he was surprised to see Red smugly exiting the building, shiny chisel in beak. 

Red stopped when he saw him, and looked directly at him. He still had no idea how Loftwing eyes could manage to be so judgemental.

“Why are you doing this to me?” he shouted. The only response he got from Red was a low croaking noise. It mocked him. 

Befriending Red through Link clearly wasn’t working. Every attempt he made was thwarted in one way or another and if Groose didn’t switch tactics soon, he was going to lose his mind to sheer frustration. No, he needed to go right for the source. He and Red were going to talk things out, man to bird.

Groose set out on preparing the best peace talk the world had ever seen. He wrote out what he wanted to say, recited it until he knew it by heart, picked a perfect, neutral meeting place, and practiced giving his speech to an actual Loftwing as many times as his own bird tolerated (not many). 

When he thought he was ready, he set out for the small island in the sky he’d picked. He’d partially chosen it because it was remote and unlikely to be subject to interruptions, but also because he often saw Red nearby this island. Truthfully, he was sort of counting on being able to flag Red down from somewhere, because he doubted the Loftwing would agree to meet anywhere if he suggested it. Was he overthinking this?

After a longer than ideal wait, he spotted a flash of scarlet in the clouds above.

“Hey, Red!” he shouted, as loudly as he could, “Down here! I really want to talk to you!”

At first, Red didn’t move, and Groose feared that the bird would just ignore him. But then, Red circled lower, close enough to see him. Groose lifted his hands to show he wasn’t holding anything.

“No tricks! See, I don’t have anything. And there’s nothing up on this island either. Honestly, you could just kick me right off it if I tried something. But, uh, please don’t do that.”

Apparently convinced, Red landed in front of him, and fixed him with his piercing stare. Groose swallowed.

“Red, I asked you to come here because I wanted to apologize,” he began. “In the past, I wronged you. There’s nothing I can say to change that, and there’s no excuse I can make for what I did. And for my actions, I am truly sorry.”

Groose gave a little bow to drive home the point, then rose back up. “Since then, I’ve been trying to atone for my actions, and I want to make things right with you. If you’re alright with it, I’d even like to be friends. I understand your distrust and dislike of me, and I get it if those feelings never go away. But if nothing else, Red, I at least want to come to an understanding with you. Can we agree to work on that?”

Red was still staring at him, but his gaze was nowhere near as focused as it had been. Groose would almost say that the bird looked bored. He cocked his head, as if to say ‘is that all?’, and when Groose said nothing else, he lazily took to the sky again.

Groose was still hopeful that his speech had made some sort of positive impact on the Loftwing, but the conveniently placed Loftwing droppings he managed to step in during his next surface visit suggested otherwise.

Maybe he’d been thinking about this whole thing the wrong way. Groose thought he’d been pretty clever playing along with these mind games. Showing Red how much he cared about his master, personally apologizing to him, those were some pretty solid ideas on his part if he thought so himself. Unfortunately, he must have failed to account for something . He was beginning to think that something was the fact that Red was a bird. A smart bird, but a bird nonetheless. A bird who, like all birds, was prone to bird shallowness. This, of course, could only mean one of two things: either Red would hate him forever no matter what he did, or all he had to do was give the Loftwing a treat and they’d be best friends. He hoped it was the latter. 

Initially, he tried to think about what his own Loftwing liked. Groose was pretty sure that bird would cozy up to even that creepy demon guy if said creepy demon guy had fish. He then quickly dismissed the idea. No, it was all one big trap. He’d try to give Red fish, or some other thing Loftwings normally found irresistible, and it would turn out that Red specifically just so happened to hate fish, and he’d be right back where he started. Groose was too smart to fall for that one. This was going to require some careful, calculated planning.

“Hey Link, what sort of stuff does your bird like?”

Link, who looked like he’d been about to nod off before Groose shouted at him, started, then turned to face him. 

Why? he signed, looking perplexed.

“Oh, you know.” This was between him and the bird. 

Link was wearing the expression of someone who very much didn’t know, but he just sighed and moved on, clearly not caring enough to pry further. 

Soup.

“Huh?”

Link shrugged. He really likes pumpkin soup.  

Aren’t Loftwings supposed to be carnivores? he wondered.

No matter. If it was soup the bird wanted, it was soup he‘d get, and this nightmare would finally be over. He thanked Link, who gave him a sleepy goodbye, and set out. 

Groose headed out as early as he could the next day, with just barely enough light in the sky to fly his Loftwing safely. The cold, wet morning air hit him at the exact same moment the urge to return to his warm bed did, but he pressed onward. Everyone knew there was nothing like fresh, hot pumpkin soup early in the morning, sending a pleasant warmth down your throat and giving you energy for the coming day. If Groose was going to give this bird soup, he was going to do it properly. 

Slowly, the familiar structure of the Lumpy Pumpkin came into view through the mist, in all its orange, round glory. Normally, there were at least a few Loftwings outside the building, waiting for masters that had succumbed to the cozy atmosphere of the place and fallen asleep, but today, the place was deserted. Good, then he wouldn’t have to wait.

Except… was it deserted? As he flew in closer, Groose caught a glimpse of something decidedly bird-shaped by the wall. Closer inspection revealed that the bird-shaped thing was also bright red. 

Of course Red was already here! Why wouldn’t he be, with the way the Goddess herself seemed so determined to mock him? 

Groose was almost too lost in despair to notice that only Red’s back half was visible. Almost.

He flew in closer, and landed behind the building, curious. The mystery was quickly solved: Red, somehow, was stuck halfway through the wall, and clearly not very happy about it. 

“Wha- how?? ” Groose yelled. Red squawked indignantly in response, struggling harder. “Ok, you’re right, not important now. Here, lemme help.” 

Groose grabbed the Loftwing’s legs, and tugged as hard as he could. Red screamed, and began thrashing wildly. Groose narrowly dodged a kick to the face.

“I’m trying to help !” he hissed, pulling harder. “Hold still!”

Finally, with another loud shriek from Red, Groose was able to pull him free, minus a few feathers. 

Before Groose could assess the situation further, shouting filled the air.

“ WHAT IS GOING ON OUT THERE?? ”

Shit.

“Hide!” he whispered, shoving Red, “I’ll take care of this.” Red squawked in protest, but stayed out of the way. 

Groose turned back to the hole in the wall after Red was safely out of sight, and immediately came face to face with a furious Pumm. He had clearly been asleep up until very recently, and his eyes were still bleary.

“Oh, first I can’t have one nice chandelier, and now this place can’t even have walls with some idiot deciding my property is theirs to destroy and- you!” He noticed Groose, and his face practically lit up with rage, sleepiness gone. “Did you do this?”

Groose steeled himself. “Yes sir. I’m real sorry.”

“For the love of- why?! ”

“Uh, morning workout. Guess I got a bit carried away.”

“Carried away enough to punch a hole in the wall big enough for me to fit through? And scream like a dying animal? Oh, and I suppose your workout also explains why there’s an entire vat of pumpkin soup missing?!”

Ah, that explained what Red was doing here. Link apparently wasn’t kidding about his bird liking pumpkin soup.

“Takes a lot to maintain these muscles,” Groose said, in as solemn a voice as he could muster, “You know how it is.”

Pumm let out a deep, weary sigh. “Glad to see you’re passionate, kid, but you can’t- you can’t just do that, you hear me? Come back later and we’ll talk about your repayment. For now, I need to go back to sleep, and something stronger than pumpkin soup.” He stared at him for a moment, face twisted with an expression that was a mixture of fury, confusion, and pity, before walking back through the hole.

Once Pumm was gone, Groose walked over to where Red had hidden himself. Sure enough, now that he could see his face, his beak was dripping in soup. Red looked up upon spotting him, and, to his surprise, made a pleasant beak-clacking noise.

“Please tell me that means we’re friends now.”

Red chuffed happily in response, and promptly used Groose’s shirt to wipe the excess soup off of his beak. 

He’d take it.

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