Muddled flashes of thrashing, naked bodies in a dim orange light from oil lamps. They move in patterns easily discernible to those who are cogs in the business. The deposit of the males' lust lay in the center, simply staring with sightless eyes. Before the escapades of that night had begun, she had smelled of something flowery, and had had almost shining pale skin. Now her skin was a mottled red in most places. White stripes contrasted well against her skin.
In the beginning, she had cried out for assistance, had wept from the various pains and humiliation, but now she was silent. Her eyes had been reservoirs of teary-eyed misery-pain, but now were flawless violet gems. Dull, but not without a certain subtle sheen. Around the house, her fellows shunned her because of her quiet nature, so she merely did as she was told.
Link's worn leather boot stamped on the common room's tiled floor to shake off the outside dirt. The racks beside the door held the weapons of any who wished to visit anyone here, and any who refused would be removed with speech or force. A huge man with arms larger than Link's legs stood by it, and probably handled the forceful approaches.
The bar's wooden counter was unusually hard, but was well-polished. It gleamed a dull hazel and was inlaid with natural circular patterns, as if a dozen trees had grown into one another. The top shelf of the counter was where drinks were made, and then were slid down a steep slope to patrons.
Link sat. "'Ay, Darunia. Just a pint." He slid a blue rupee up the slope.
"Who you gonna have tonight, huh? Who's da lady killer gonna get?" Darunia's rock-like teeth bared in a smile only a Goron could perform properly.
"Dunno. There are a lotta good girls here, but I don't want one that feels fake, ya know?"
Darunia was most likely Link's best friend. He wasn't human, but that was no barrier for Link as it was for so many others. In fact, he had noticed in recent years that Gorons tended to be more stable and dependable than most humans. He chuckled as he drank his stout.
He cast a lingering glance around the room, measuring and weighing the available girls with his eyes. Most of their beauty was fabricated with stuffed bras, gratuitous makeup, and complementary attire. Perhaps he would not lie with anyone tonight…
Wait.
In a darkened corner sat a striking blue-haired girl of no more years than Link. Though it was dim, he had better eyesight than most, and could easily tell that she wore little makeup, if any at all. Despite that, she was radiant: smooth cheeks, high cheekbones, pouty lips… but one thing marred her visage. She lacked a smile. Anyone who possessed such natural beauty should have been the center of attention, bathed in unbridled exultation. Instead her lips were criminally tucked away in a straight line, and none of her features moved an inch. She was the quintessence of cold.
Link reddened at his precipitous passion. His heart rate had definitely increased. He wondered what she would think if she could hear his thoughts. He felt a strong desire to know her, but she exuded such an icy bearing that he felt as if he would stand there and fumble with words for half an hour.
Despite all this wishful thinking, he found his legs moving. He did not resist.
"Hey." Link sat on the bench across from her.
Her violet eyes flicked to his. Link nearly recoiled. Such poignancy in those eyes. It was probably not obvious to most, but this girl's eyes held a story. Link could only guess at the scope of the tale from the intensity of her gaze, and could not infer the contents.
That would come later, hopefully. Link was now interested.
"What do you do here?"
She did not seem to recognize that he sat before her.
After a few more failed attempts to acquire her attention, he made reluctant tracks to the master of the brothel; an enormously fat man with false teeth cast in gold to replace those which had probably rotted away. He liked his clothes as expensive as possible and as trimmed with gold and as sewn with lace as possible. His tastes and demeanor were not unusual in the underworld of the sex trade in Hyrule which the government did not even attempt to control.
The only reason Link visited this brothel-or any for that matter-was to discover if there were any girls who wanted to escape their lives. So far, all those he had talked with-and guiltily slept with-had been content with making their bodies available to any man who stepped through the door with rupees in his purse.
When he had begun his hobby, he did not even know if could free any of those he found. He abhorred that these girls were subjected to any kind of abuse that their client wished. He was not of the opinion that all of them had chosen that life, regardless of their claims. No, especially because of their claims. He had learned from all the times he had slid through a brothel's innards, listening closely to the noises of the building.
Link wanted to accomplish something. When Ilia had been taken after the Twilight Invasion, Link had been a simple mercenary, no longer required by the kingdom he had defended. Despite his skill set, he'd not been able to find her, which was part of the reason he had taken residence in the new Hyrule Castle Town. He suspected that she'd been transported outside of the country, or he would have found her by now.
He hated being powerless. He had felt so enough times during the times of crisis in his life that not being able to reach something on a shelf could drive him over the edge. Losing a childhood friend to something so mundane and anonymous had been nearly more than he could handle. He had almost killed men who looked at him with a crooked brow or slight frown then.
Now it's a bit different. Years had passed since then, and the wounds-both mental and physical-he had accrued during his search for Ilia had mostly healed. I won't be killing the guard unless he tries to take my knives.
Link ascended the wooden stairs to the fat man's office. When his personal guard had allowed him through, he found Julous plonked down at his desk with a euphoric expression on his face. The desk was probably the most expensive piece of furniture in the whole building with its light splashing of gilt. Link tried to ignore the wet sounds from below.
"Hey Julous, I need to ask ya about a girl."
"Ah, another one of my regulars. How are you, Link?" The man's thin mustache curled and was nearly lost in the folds of his face. "Say hello, Ceria. Do not be rude to our guest."
A girl with red hair whom he had met before rose, licking the corners of her mouth to remove all doubt as to what she had been doing and would be doing again soon. She wore nothing, and winked at him as she uttered a simple greeting. Julous gestured, and she shrugged and returned to her position below the desk.
"What can I help you with?"
"It's a girl I would like to contract for a night or two. I don't know her name, but she's very quiet, and I don't believe she noticed me when I talked to her."
"That… sounds like Ashei." His lips flapped in what Link interpreted as a laugh. "Not many of my clients like her…"
Ah. Now he would attempt to interest Link in another, more expensive girl.
"She is not good for you, Link. This is twenty-two years in my business speaking. A girl like… Ceria would be…. Good for you. The things this girl can do with her mouth are astounding."
Link tried not to vomit. "Thanks, Julous, but I want Ashei."
He spread his hands in a mock gesture of defeat. Link could see the crinkling of his brow. Julous was an easily frustrated man.
After he had been paid, Julous gave him a worn key of the room in which he would find Ashei with vocalizations of his hopes that Link would enjoy her, that he would have a good time. This had not been the first time Link had encountered him while Julous was receiving services from one of his girls. At least this time he had not had to wait for Julous to loudly finish having sex.
Link found room 211's dilapidated wooden plaque and opened the door. She apparently had not been notified of her new duty yet, so Link decided he would rest a bit, as he had not at all the previous night.
He did not yet know the scope of his actions.