Oneshot contestant for the We-Do-Loftwings contest

Theme: Draw a picture and story showing a Skyloft Knight and his/her Loftwing helping someone

Matchmakers

Ospren loved the night.

He always had. When he was little Ospren and his father had started a tradition of going up to the roof of their house and pointing out the different constellations to each other. His father would always come home to regale Ospren and his mother with tales of his duties and experiences as a night patroller. He always told Ospren that, if he listened hard enough, the stars themselves would whisper stories to him as he fell asleep each night.

Ospren never quite stopped believing it, even as he grew older. Even when he began school and made new friends and ran around like all kids did, the legends stayed with him, stirring in his mind, his hopes and dreams, and reminding him they existed once in a while. And Ospren knew with all his heart what he wanted to be when he grew up. He wanted to be a night patroller, sky class. He wanted to be out there every night, making sure people were safe and being close to the stars all the time.

Above all, Ospren looked forward to turning ten and getting his Loftwing. With a Loftwing, he would finally be able to get so close to the stars he'd coveted for so long. He couldn't wait to soar among them with his new partner.

And when he finally turned ten he stood before the Statue of the Goddess like all the other ten year olds, blinking up at the sky for a distinctive shape.

Out of three kids, his came second. A Loftwing descended from the heavens, a beautiful gold female: the color of promises, hope, and fulfilled dreams. They met and they bonded through touch; Ospren had never felt anything like it in his entire life, and he would never forget the exact moment when his mind became one with another.

He spent the night in the sparring hall with the other two kids and their new birds, talking excitedly about colors and flying and names. The next morning the boy named Strok named his Loftwing Rotu, the other boy named Pipit named his Loftwing Ampi, and Ospren named his golden Loftwing Ebirda, after an ancient word for "flier."

He couldn't wait to start his life with her.

But as time went on, Ospren's little fantasies began take a strain. Ebirda was . . . odd. She moved and acted slowly. She refused to fly as much as the other birds did; actually, Ospren could barely ever get her off the ground. When he took to just walking with her she would wander off and linger around other people.

Ospren began to wonder if she was sick. Surely no healthy bird would just laze through its days, doing absolutely nothing and showing no interest in anything? He had a bird physician check her over and test her, and no bad things were found. She was the picture of health: no internal issues, no problems with her beak or feathers, moderately standard figure, though she was leaning to the pudgy side due to her inactivity.

Ospren wondered if the problem was with him. Was he not treating her right? Was he being neglectful, and that in turn made her distant? He bombarded other people with questions about the closeness of them and their Loftwings, but no one could really help him, for no one had a Loftwing like his. Sure, she caught him when he jumped off of Skyloft, but then she only took short flights before landing again and ditching him, wandering off to stare at nothing.

It was only when a passing comment from a classmate reached his ears that he found a word that could describe her.

Stupid.

The Loftwing he'd received from the Goddess, the one he was bonded to, the one he would be stuck with for his entire life . . . was stupid.

All the other Loftwings were so full of life, so full of interest. Everything they did was such a quiet celebration of how conscious they were. From preening to flying to sleeping to eating to playing- everything they did was overflowing with vigor and a brimming intelligence and curiosity.

Ebirda had none of that. She floated through life sluggishly and slowly, her eyes dull and lusterless and her movements without care. Her golden feathers, which were supposed to signify the promises of fulfilling dreams, were like a sunny beacon of mockery to Ospren whenever he saw her.

The worst part was that unless she changed he would never become a night patroller. He would never grow up to become what he wanted to be the most. He'd hoped, he'd dreamed- this was what he wanted most in life, and it was being kept from him by something that would never change.

He couldn't help it; he hated her. But he loved her with all his heart at the same time. She was stupid, but she was also his guardian bird. She shared a part of his mind, his entity, and he could never stop loving her.

So he put on a brave face throughout his life, ignoring snide comments about her and pretending to laugh along with jokes at her expense, when on the inside every sentence spoken about her drastic inactivity made his spirit plummet further.

The only time in her life that she showed an interest in anything was when Ospren scratched her. Truthfully it was the only time he could get her to stay near him for a long period of time; otherwise she would wander off somewhere else. Over the years this became the only thing she was ever interested in. Perhaps her lack of enthusiasm for everything caused her to channel all of her energy into one thing. She became addicted to other people scratching or petting her, and began to beg other Skyloft citizens for it. She would shove her head into other people's laps and chests and shoulders and close her eyes expectantly.

At first everyone thought it cute. Then, as she never stopped, a lot began to ignore her in annoyance. Little children loved scratching her, so she targeted them most. Older kids and most adults shoved her away whenever she came near, knowing she was just around to beg once more.

She stopped flying completely and began to lurk around the plaza, for that was where people gathered most. People knew her now as Skyloft's cuddlebird, and whether this was a good or bad thing depended on who was being a victim to her affection.

Ebirda went after everyone, even the Instructors, even the Headmaster, even the annoying Groose, who always just gave her a disgusted look and strutted away. However, there was one person he never paid any attention to at all anymore.

Ospren.

Well, fine, he thought to himself one day, as he watched her being cooed over and cuddled by a group of ten-year-old girls.

If you won't be mine, then be theirs.

I don't care anymore.

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Ospren had been a Knight for a while now.

He hadn't applied for the night watch job yet; he feared to. Yes, he met all of the qualifications, and Hylia knew he was eager and willing; yet he was but one part of two, and the other one would never cooperate, had not the mental capacity to cooperate.

For now he was just a street patroller, trying to keep little kids in line and keeping a sharp eye out for shoplifters or other detractors from the good of society. He'd tried to sign up for night patrolling on the ground, so that at least he could look up at the stars, but before they let him upgrade to night he had to do his time during the day for a few months. And so he simmered under the sun when he should have been marching under the moon, hating the glow and the way it made his eyes squint when he so much as looked up at the sky.

A flash of red caught his eye, and he looked over the edge of the cliff he was on near the Bazaar. A bright-red Loftwing had landed on the path below and Link, the newest Knight, hopped off. The teen and his Loftwing walked together toward the steps leading to the Statue of the Goddess.

Ospren watched them go with a good amount of jealousy. Everyone knew that Link had always been weird around his bird, not like others. Ever since the rarest of the rare, the Crimson Loftwing, had descended to Link, the two had been inseparable. He really looked like he was communicating with the Crimson Loftwing, who he had named Aepon. Finally someone had asked how Link and his Loftwing got along so well, and the kid had answered, "I can hear him. Always."

Always? The minds of a Loftwing and its person were always connected from the moment the two first touched, but only in the mildest of forms; if the person was in danger, the bird would know and rush to their aid. When one partner felt a very strong emotion the other could pick up on it. Link and Aepon? According to what he said, he could always hear or see what was going on in his bird's mind. Maybe that explained why Link always looked like he daydreaming through his life; maybe he was choosing to fly through the eyes of the Crimson Loftwing.

A flash of gold, and Ospren rolled his eyes. Predictably, Ebirda the stupid Loftwing – his stupid Loftwing – had run up to Link and put her head on his shoulder, begging for scratches. Link, always a kindly sort, immediately stopped and rubbed her cheeks, smiling and talking sweetly to her.

Even through the distance between them Ospren could see the strain in his smile, the despair in his eyes. Ever since Zelda had disappeared Link had been flying back and forth between Skyloft and the forbidden breach in the cloud barrier like a madman. He had no time to talk to anyone anymore. Ospren felt bad for the guy; every time he came back he looked a little more worn, a little more changed, like every step put another responsibility on his shoulders until he could barely hold its weight.

Link waved goodbye to Ebirda and dragged his Loftwing away by the collar, for the Crimson Loftwing was making angry lunges at Ebirda for daring to coddle his partner so. Ever since the famous time Link had tried to get his bird into the baths by taking advantage of his jealousy and jumping on Ebirda's back, then riding her to the bathroom, Aepon had loathed the sight of the stupid Loftwing. He seemed to have come to associate her with getting a bath, which he notoriously hated.

When Link disappeared around the corner Ebirda still stood in the middle of the road, tilting her head and looking around for more people to assault. Ospren turned away, a little bitter. She had seen him; he knew it- yet she had ignored him, like he was but a part of the scenery.

Ospren walked past trees and benches, lost in his thoughts as the wind ruffled his hair. Whenever he thought of his own bird he thought of crushed dreams. He wanted to think of a happy memory with her, but could bring up none. Ebirda was a harbinger of ignorance and frustration, and nothing, Ospren thought, could change that.

He saw movement out of the corner of his eye. He turned his head and saw a short blue-haired teenager, a little on the chubby side, sulking on a bench. His arms were crossed, and his perpetually half-lidded eyes were slits of what looked like depression.

Ospren knew Cawlin from when he was younger. They had been friends, even though they were three years apart in age. Cawlin was a little too full of himself, but he also spouted some absolutely fantastic dry snips of humor that could send even the hardiest kid to the ground in throes of laughter. They'd drifted apart as Ospren's Knight duties began in earnest, and Cawlin had started spending time with the redheaded idiot, Groose. Now he strutted around in the bully's wake like he was hot stuff, a chick trying to act like a Loftwing, a complete background character in the Legend of Groose.

But Ospren didn't have the heart to leave him on the bench alone. He walked over. "Hey, Cawlin," he said. "Why so down?"

Cawlin shot him an irritated glare, then looked away with a humph.

"Wow. Cold. What's your problem?"

Cawlin mumbled something into his two chins and slumped lower in his seat.

Ospren sat down next to him. "Seriously, Cawlin. What's wrong? You just having a bad day?" Ospren had never seen him like this. Usually he couldn't resist waxing on about his latest conquest or ambitious endeavor, successful or no.

Cawlin fidgeted for a few seconds, then finally muttered, "Link ruins everything."

"What?"

"Link! He ruins everything!" Cawlin suddenly burst out. "First he snatches the Ceremony from me, and then I trusted him with something really important he tossed it in the trash- He's such a brat! I hate him!"

"Whoa, whoa, slow down. He did what now? He won the Wing Ceremony-"

"Yeah, it should've been me-"

"-and then he betrayed you somehow? What?"

Cawlin huffed. "Okay . . . you can't tell anyone this. Seriously. I'll hunt you down if you do." He gave Ospren an angry look. "You have to swear."

"Okay, I swear." Ospren put his right hand over his heart in a joking salute. "On my honor as a Knight."

Cawlin rolled his eyes at the theatrics. "Look, for a while now I've had a- a crush on this . . . girl . . . named-"

"Let me guess. Karane?"

"Wh- WHAT?" Cawlin nearly jumped out of his seat. "How did you know?"

"Cawlin, seriously? You wrote 'Karane + Cawlin' on the chalkboard. You're lucky I saw it and erased part of your name."

". . . Oh."

"Yeah. So how did Link get in all of this?"

Cawlin sighed. "Well, I kind of wrote this love letter- don't laugh! So I wrote this love letter, and Link was getting all up in my business so I finally told him what it was, and then I asked him to deliver it to her. Well, he did all right. But then he went and told Pipit about it!"

"So?"

"So? So? Everyone knows Pipit likes Karane! Karane was about to ask me out, and then Pipit comes running in and steals her away! And now they're dating! Link ruined everything!"

"Oh come on. I doubt he deliberately told Pipit to screw you over. He probably didn't even know Pipit had feelings for Karane. He's always kind of zoned out, you know?"

Cawlin scowled again. "Well, I just wish he would stay in his own business with his own missing girl and stay away from me." He turned away, and Ospren knew the conversation was over.

Ospren walked away, shaking his head. That was enough drama for today. Forget being a good friend, forget being a Knight; relationships were not his thing.

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"Hi, I'd like to pick up my pocketwatch, please," Ospren said absentmindedly, sliding his hands over the smooth counter and looking around the Bazaar instinctively for trouble. People chatting at the kitchens, the creepy fortuneteller calling out to someone to foretell how long she would live, the repairman Gonzo hamming it up for a customer; all normal.

"Sure," the dull voice of the Item Check's shopkeeper said. "I'll just get it out of the back." The girl disappeared.

Ospren tapped his fingers against the wood impatiently until the girl reappeared. He always kept his pocketwatch here every day; it used to be his father's, and he didn't trust himself to avoid losing it throughout the day.

"Thanks- hey, what's wrong?" he asked abruptly upon seeing the girl's face. Her eyes were red and puffy, and her face was pale. Normally she just looked bored, or wistful. Now she looked miserable.

Her face screwed up in confusion – what was her name? Potis? Petra? – at hearing this random stranger ask about her well-being like he knew her. "None of your business," she snapped, slamming the watch down on the counter and sitting back down with a huff.

"Hey, watch it with that!" Ospren yelped, turning the watch over to make sure it wasn't scratched. It wasn't, but he was still mad. "What's your problem? Be careful!"

"Oh, I'm sorry," the girl shot back, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "I'm so very sorry to damage your precious manly watch. I should really be more careful when handling something that belongs to such a manly man."

What? Ospren gave her his best dumbfounded look. "What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about you and your stupid gender!" the girl snapped. She whirled around and stormed away, abandoning her shop and a very confused customer.

More relationship problems, Ospren thought exasperatedly. I'm out of here.

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Ospren sometimes wished he were a Loftwing.

He wished he could soar off whenever he wanted to. He wished to wait until the night to fly, to be among the stars, defying gravity and letting nothing hold him down.

In reality he was just a boy, held down by a partner the color of the sun and a Goddess with a sick sense of humor.

He sighed and stretched, cushioning his head with his arms. He was on a bench in the plaza, watching people stroll by and letting himself daydream. His shift had ended a while ago and he hadn't even bothered changing out of his gray Knight's uniform yet.

It was a normal day, no trouble to be had. No shoplifting, no fights, not even a childish prankster. In a dim way, Ospren yearned for something to do, to correct; he wanted to think about something other than his apparent lack of ability to do anything. The only problems he'd come across were relationship problems, and who cared about those? Ospren's love life was as dead as a tree branch. He'd never really cared. So how in the Hylia could he help someone with no experience? They didn't exactly teach that at the Academy.

Did that make him a bad Knight? That he couldn't help someone just because he had no experience? Wasn't it his duty to improvise, to find ways to work around a lack of knowledge?

Across the plaza he could see the crabby Item Check girl sulking by the Light Tower. She was playing with something in her hands. Maybe he should go and talk to her. Comfort her or something. What would he say? It wasn't like he understood what she was going through. What she needed was someone who did.

A muffled shout reached his ears, and he turned his head, trying to overcome the lethargic haze in is head. Scuffling noises and sounds of protest were coming from behind the corner of a house down the road. Ospren sat up, about to investigate, when he saw a gray-gold bird appear down the path, walking backwards with her head close to the ground. And clasped in her beak, writhing and trying to break free, was Cawlin.

Ebirda dragged him right by where Ospren was sitting. He was about to run up and shove her away, ready to yell at her for attacking someone, but she moved suddenly, making him pause. She let go of Cawlin for a second and placed her foot on his chest to hold him in place. Then she turned and stared at Ospren.

Ospren was as frozen as if someone had nailed him to the bench. This was not Ebirda. It couldn't be. It was her body, and her size and color, but not her. Ospren had memorized what his bird looked like. Every day he looked upon her, first with pride and love and eventually with annoyance and animosity. She stood before him now, but he did not recognize her.

It was her eyes. Her eyes were changed. Every day of her life Ospren had seen how lusterless those bronze eyes were, how dully they swept to and fro, looking upon the world through an uncaring lens. Now they were shining and sparkling with so much emotion that he couldn't believe this was the same bird as his stupid Loftwing. They shone with an unspoken determination and fierceness that screwed Ospren's perception of her so much that he could not recognize her.

If he had to guess, they said, Stay out of my way.

Ospren did nothing but stare with his jaw dropped as she picked Cawlin up again and dragged him across the plaza. They were headed right for the Item Check girl, who didn't appear to have noticed their coming.

Ebirda reached the girl and, with a jerk of her thin neck, unceremoniously threw Cawlin onto the girl's lap. She gave a little shriek in surprise, her hands flying up defensively. The object she'd been playing with flew out of her hands and clattered to the ground a few feet away.

As the two struggled to separate themselves, Ebirda turned and strode away like nothing had ever happened.

Cawlin got up and dusted himself off. Ospren was too far away to hear what he was saying, but judging by how he was gesticulating and blushing furiously, he was trying to apologize. The girl said something back, then looked around her feet, as though she was searching for something.

Peatrice, Ospren thought suddenly. That's her name. I knew that I knew it.

Cawlin turned and picked up the object Peatrice had dropped. As he held it up to look at it, Ospren could see it clearly: it was the light green Bird Statue used every year for the Wing Ceremony. Cawlin shyly gave it back to the girl, and she took it quietly. Then Cawlin mumbled something that made the girl look startled. She turned the Bird Statue over in her hands, and then nodded.

Ospren watched as she got up and walked with Cawlin toward the Bazaar. As they stepped out of sight, Ospren thought he saw Peatrice drop the Bird Statue on the ground without a second glance.

Ospren didn't know how long he sat there with his mouth agape. Then he shook himself. What just happened?

A light rasp sounded behind him. He turned and saw Ebirda, preening herself quietly a few feet away. Ospren got up and stood in front of her. She ignored hm.

Maybe he'd been imagining things. She looked so normal now. There was no way she was smart enough- there was no way any bird was smart enough to play matchmaker, to recognize that two people who had broken hearts might find solace in each other. No, there was no way. Loftwings weren't that smart, and especially not Ebirda.

As this thought crossed his mind Ebirda moved. She whipped her head up and pierced him with one bronze eye. Ospren nearly jumped back. That wasn't the eye of a dopey, dull Loftwing. That was the stare of a cunning predator, and it was focused on him.

"Ebirda," he said, his voice hoarse.

She did not move.

". . . You're . . . not stupid, are you?"

She opened her beak an inch and rasped, never moving her eye away, never blinking to free him from her gaze. And then, in his mind, Ospren felt emotions not his own: calculation. Condescension. Aloofness.

"You're smart."

Amusement.

"You're not just smart. . . "

Anticipation.

"You're smarter than the other Loftwings."

Relief.

She blinked, and the spell was broken. She stepped forward and nuzzled Ospren, closing her eyes and rubbing her head against his chest. On a whim, he hugged her, not realizing how much he'd missed it.

A thought entered his mind, not entirely his own. He felt tinges of eccentricity and alien thoughts to it; it definitely hadn't come from him. It did not come in words, for no one, not even a person, really thought entirely in words. If he had to translate it to a human thought, it would have been:

I can't change who I am.

"You don't have to," Ospren mumbled into her feathers. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry I never saw it. All this time . . . you were just playing with me?"

Another thought, another message. It took a while to decipher:

Not playing. Was waiting. For you to see.

"You're right. I see. I can't judge you for who you are. I was comparing you to how I wanted a bird . . . when I didn't see the amazing girl I already have." He tousled the feathers on the back of her head. She rasped and rustled her wings.

"Come on," Ospren said, his heart feeling lighter than it had ever been. "Let's go get something to eat, okay?"

Ebirda straightened up and stretched, rasping in agreement.

Maybe she would never be the bird he'd dreamed of, but he could learn to love her for who she was.

It was his duty as a Knight to improvise.

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This, along with an art piece, was my entry for the contest at We-Do-Loftwings at DeviantArt. The art and stuff is here if you want to see it: ht tp :/ /sa phru ikan.d eviant m/#/d 5145k2 (remove spaces).

Ebirda and Ospren come from the fifth chapter of The Crimson Loftwing, my other story.

This became a lot more . . . in-depth and intimate than I thought. Nice. I suppose having a bird like Ebirda who is not only smarter than any other Loftwing, but chooses to act like the stupidest makes for a rather complex relationship. I never expected a bird I made up on a whim could be the subject of an entire story, let alone her person who I never expected to mention again after The Crimson Loftwing's chapter.

Go see the other entries for the contest; they're awesome! And join and contribute to the group, too, it needs more love!

EDIT: AWWWWWWWW SHIT I GOT SECOND PLACE AWWWWWWWWWW YEAAAAAAAAAAAUH- *dances like a crazy person*