Courage In Her Eyes
He's got Impa on his back, and her deadweight is slowing him to a strained jog. Her hand, lax in unconsciousness, is slung over his shoulder, and beats against his chest any time he stops or pivots too hard. A grim reminder that she's only holding on by a thread.
Zelda strides ahead of him, plowing through the darkness. Light flares every time she looses her bow, the light arrow bursting and driving back the monsters.
A trickle of wetness streams down the back of his neck, and he wonders if it's sweat, or if Impa's bleeding has gotten worse. Link forces the thought away. There's no use worrying about that when they're so close to safety–getting out is what matters now. He knows this route like the back of his hand; Three rooms through this dungeon and this cave will spit them back out into Hyrule Field.
The Princess ducks into the next room before him, shooting rapidfire at the moblins that close in. One gets close enough to touch; her dress rips under its claws before she yelps and kicks it back. It scampers off. She raises her bow after it, desperation in her eyes, before sense kicks in and she thinks better of killing it. She's low on arrows. About seven rattle in the quiver. She can't afford the shot.
Zelda lowers her weapon, arrow notched to the string still, and starts forward. He follows with a grunt.
He can see the cracks in her facade. She doesn't let it show, even in the next room, where there's an enemy whose bulk towers over them, strong, agile, and fierce. It takes three shots to kill. No, it's only in the third room, the grand entrance to the dungeon and the last room to their freedom, that she breaks.
The room is filled to the brim with shadows.
Link and Zelda quickly backpedal into the previous room, letting the door slam shut behind them. Zelda clutches her head and backs away, to crouch in the shadow of the massive corpse she'd killed.
"I can't do this," she says, voice wrung like a rag, squeezed dry.
Link shuffles over to her and kneels as best he can, trying to get through to her. She tears up, looking away. "She's going to die," said Zelda. "We won't reach help and she's going to die–"
Gently Link juggles Impa's unconscious weight to free up an arm. He puts a comforting hand on her shoulder.
Zelda looks up. She shakes her head. "Four spare arrows, Link, I've got five shots, how am I supposed to–" the sentence clips off, and she stares hard at him, as if he might have the answer. She's desperate. She's scared.
He meets her gaze. Slowly, he moves his hand off her shoulder and puts it on hers, her hand that grips the bow. A power pulses through them. On the back of his hand, and on the back of hers, the triforce of courage and wisdom shed their light on the darkness.
Zelda takes a deep, shuddering breath. Link feels calmer, or at least steadier, with the power coursing through him. Maybe she does too. Zelda nods and wipes at her eyes, resettling her grip on her bow.
"We go straight through the center," she says, standing. "I'll–use my first shot to knock down the chandelier. Maybe they will scatter." She hesitates, knowing it's a bad plan, but Link, most of all, knows the virtue of fighting relentlessly even against impossible odds. He nods.
They'll either make it out, or they'll go down swinging. He thinks they'll make it, though, despite all odds. Zelda looks nothing if not determined.
He can see courage in her eyes.