Disclaimer: I do not own the Legend of Zelda, and no profit is being made from this story. I do think aardwolves are cool, but nobody cares.

Mrs. Fi Uppitypants

Satisfied, filthy, and dripping with blood, sweat, and squid, Link slid the White Sword back into its sheath. That was another flame found and completed. Smiling, the Hero turned. Now he was off to—

Oh.

The ship was utterly destroyed. Well, Link had realized that was its fate when tentacles had burst from the floor, but—

How was he supposed to get to land?

"Skipper?" he yelled, only to be met with the unresponsive lapping of water against the wreck he was standing on.

If the robot had any sense, he'd have taken his crew to safety.

"The ship! The ship!" cried one of the crewmembers.

The boat of robots stopped propellering long enough to turn and watch their ship and their livelihood get snapped in half by Tentalus. They watched in quietly circuited dismay.

"Bzzzrt," crackled one of Skipper's connections.

There was a silence punctuated only by water and the quiet dialing of their electronics.

"Do you think Link's circuitry sustained damage?" inquired one of the crew members.

"That is guaranteed," Skipper replied, "But we may repair him yet, along with our ship."

Link's stomach was churning. At first he figured it was nausea, but as time passed he concluded that it could be hunger. After all, when he'd first ventured from home, camping in Skyview Temple, he'd run out of his food and come to know a whole new level of hunger, the type where it gnawed you, sickened you, as your stomach ate itself alive. Under the urgings of Fi he had discovered roasted keese and hadn't felt hungry since, for multiple reasons.

Let's not think about that, he mused, groaning as he clutched his stomach. Sweet mercy he felt horrible. And sweet mercy had that been a horrible fight. Link could still smell the slime on his tunic. It smelt like spoiled seafood and snot, but since Link had grown up in Skyloft, where the only sea was the clouds below, the briny flavor that was sea life was entirely new to him. But anyway, he would definitely be turning down any dish of calamari anybody offered him in the future. His appetite for seafood was shot through and through, as was his appetite for pretty much anything.

Man, I really don't feel well, he thought, his vision swaying and the heat waves on the horizon swelling to obscure all of his vision. He blinked and was reminded that his eyes were searing, too. The drum of a cicada hum picked up in his ears and next thing he knew he was coughing, no, hurling over the side of the wreck.

"Ugh," he sighed, wiping his mouth, "How am I supposed to get off of here?"

"Master, I suggest—"

"That was a rhetorical question, Fi." Link said as he got out his gust bellows and propped them so they would cool his face.

"Master, I suggest we head to the Isle of Songs."

"Well, Fi, I suggest you stop suggesting the impossible, because in case you haven't noticed, we're sitting on a wreck in the noonday sun. Chill, girl, chill," Link grinned light-headedly. But something caught his throat and his writhing stomach and he was coughing again.

No, he swore to himself. No. You're keep that junk you ate down. You're keeping-crap.

There was a repulsive splash as Link's last meal hit the sea below. But then again, he figured, his roasted keese lunch wasn't something he had really wanted to keep anyway.

"Link, there is a 78% chance you have heatstroke, a 82% chance you have sunstroke, and a 25% chance you have seasickness. Drinking water and eating salt is advised."

"Seasickness?"

"Yes, Master. You are a being who has dwelt on Skyloft their entire life, and thus never been exposed to the movements of a floating vessel—"

"Skyloft is floating, Fi."

"Correct, Master. However, Skyloft does not exhibit the same rocking motion—"

"You know what would make me feel better, Fi?" Link watched as the whole world went whirly. It looked funny.

"Water, salt, and rest, sir. There is a 78% chance you have heatstroke, an 82% chance you have sunstroke—"

"Sunstroke and heatstroke are the same thing, Navi."

"Master, I suggest you treat your delusional state with care. My name is not Navi."

Link no longer cared to deliver his snappy "I'd feel better if you shut up" line. He just wanted quiet. "Whatever, Midna," he whispered.

"Nor is it Midna, Master. According to my calculations, it is not probable that those people have existed yet."

"Ciela, why don't you just go below deck for a little while?" Link mumbled. As if he cared for calculations. For him, lying on a shard of wrecked ship with a fan blowing his face but the sun frying his armor, time and the order of lifetimes was about as straight as the wavy heat lines bubbling on the horizon. Weren't those in the future, anyway? Or wasn't he in the past? Wherever Link was, he sure felt outside of time.

"Master, I suggest you make any necessary preparations and depart for a location where you may get some water and rest, away from the heat."

"I will, Ezlo, no worries. I'm just waiting for it to cool off a bit before I make a raft and use the blower to propel us to the harbor. Except I'll probably have to jack the ship's Timeshift Stone too, so that we don't have to cross sand. Darn. It was such a nice ship."

"Ahoy! Link!"

The nauseated Hero lifted a pounding head. "Huh?"

"Ahoy, Link! What damage have you sustained?"

"Tetra?" Link squinted against the heat at the tiny time-powered boat below him. No, not Tetra.

"Bzzzt. I think his time-processing core is ruptured," offered a crew member.

"I don't have any cores!" Link yelled back, "I am Link, not Iron Man!"

"He has also sustained damage to his fourth-wall simulator," piped up another.

A wave of nausea hit Link and he hurled over the edge again. Wiping his mouth, he picked up his gust bellows. "Can you guys give me a lift to the nearest bird statue?" he asked.

"I don't know anything about 'lifting', bzzrt," said Skipper, "But we can certainly take you there."

"Sweet!" Link cheered and jumped off the side of the ship. Cool, salty water buffeted him as he sidestroked to the robot's boat. The robots watched him as if surveying a strange phenomenon while he climbed aboard.

"Great! Thanks. Really, thanks guys. I'm sorry about your ship, but if it makes you feel better I killed the squid," Link added, smiling and squinting against the sun as he folded his legs into the boat. The little dinghy bobbed and rocked...his stomach didn't like that. He swallowed it down desperately.

"That does not makes us feel any better, vrrrm," snarked one of the less grateful crew.

"I'm really sorry, I can help you rebuild—" but the boy was cut off as something gurgled up within him and he nearly upset the boat in his dive for the edge.

Link sat back up again, pale-faced. "I swear, that's everything I've eaten."

The robots ignored him. They didn't know what model their friend Link was, but he did a lot of strange things. They were not sure they were capable of repairing him.

"Vrrrrm. We will return you to a bird statue, Link. But from there we cannot help you," Skipper finished, starting the boat's time-powered engine.

"Oh, don't worry about it, Skipper. I can get myself home from there. "

"Master, I suggest we travel to the Isle of Songs."

"Fi, I'm going to throw up."

"I suggest upgrading the efficiency with which you predict such functions," offered a crew member. "You already stated that you were done."

"Yeah, me too," Link said wistfully, feeling the ocean wind in his hair and letting it distract him. If he didn't think about the movement of the boat, he figured he could hold on until they got to land.

The boat quickly docked at a harbor, and Link climbed out.

"Farewell, friends," Link said, saluting. The robots copied him, hovering off to gather supplies from the shipyard.

"I'll miss, you, Skipper. Take care of yourself, okay?" Link added to the captain.

"Aye-aye, Link," the robot returned. "And we shall have our ship up and running faster than you can repair your fourth-wall simulator."

"True that!" Link waved as he strode off to the bird statue. Here, the line of the past ended. He stepped across it and into the loneliness of the future. Windswept sand washed at the legs of massive rail-cart systems in a place where no robot lived or worked. He hurled one last time, glad no one had to see him but feeling even worse for the hot wind. Sighing, he pulled out his sailcloth so the bird statue could take him to the sky, where flying would be the next issue.

"Master, I suggest traveling to the Isle of Songs."

"Huh?"

"The Isle of Songs, Master. I suggest you treat your delusional state with care."

"I suggest you treat your uppity state with care," Link mumbled as a wind grew beneath him, "Mrs. Fi Uppitypants."

"Link, I do not wear pants."

"WHAT?"

The ending stuck me on this one, so I brought Fi back in, and so the title was born! Before that it was "Sickwrecked". Anyway, if you liked this oneshot, feel free to check out it's brother, "Resurrected By a Beamos", which is drama as opposed to humor, but still chronicles one slice of Link's adventure on the Sandship, involving a stupid mistake while getting the Boss Key.

That said, does anybody know if there is a difference between sunstroke and heatstroke? I've always wondered.

Thanks for reading!

Ninja Out.