A/N Welcome to the long-anticipated Captivity. It took forever to find the motivation to write again, but now, I'm back. I hit a couple bumps in the road too, but I learned a lot, so that's good. I'm taking a really good writing class this year, and some of the stuff I wrote is probably going to make its way to my Fictionpress. My writing has improved, but this one did feel a little lackluster, so feel free to tear into it. I'll try to post regularly, but maybe not. As for my other upcoming fics, it may be awhilr again, depending on how persistent my motivation is.
Yeah, this is a short chapter, but they'll get longer.
Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.
In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.
Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds and shall find, me, unafraid.
It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate,
I am the captain of my soul.
-Invictus by William Ernest Henley
Hot rays of light bore down on all of the inhabitants of Hyrule, the sun remained uncovered and well on its way to the west. Such a day was better spent inside or washing away the heat in chilly rivers, not spent trudging halfway across the kingdom underneath the unforgiving sky. Tired hands clutched worn leather as waves of heat beat down in sharp, strong beams. Too hot to gallop, too hot to do anything, really. Epona huffed underneath the Hero of Twilight, a warm, shuddering jolt that brought him back from the bowels of his mind. Link shifted his weight gently, readjusting himself in an attempt to find comfort, of which the hard saddle offered none. Soft, blue eyes settled once again on the goal before their owner. In the near distance, Hyrule Castle loomed, glass and new stone wavered like jewels on the waves of hot air. The hero's eyes flicked away from the sight, a spark of contempt floating through them.
Tucked away in Link's saddlebag sat his neatly folded invitation. He didn't need to look at it again to know what it said, but he leaned down to pull it back out again, regardless. The letter hadn't changed at all, of course, but his eye was still drawn to the tight little signature resting just below Queen Zelda's; Dwennon Chadby, her newest -and obviously most successful- suitor. Being the all-glorified "Hero of Hyrule" he knew that he would get an invitation to the announcement of his sovereign's marriage, but he just wasn't expecting it so soon after Zelda became Queen. Usually an heiress would have to be wed before she received her title, which the princess would've had to have done, if it weren't for the overwhelming amount of people that wished her to be Queen. It didn't make much sense to Link that she would still choose to marry just months after her coronation. Yes, he was quite happy for her, but royalty never failed to baffle the young man.
Giving one more quick glance over the parchment and the sky, Link set Epona into a trot. The time for the announcement was drawing near, and although he was annoyed by social events, he wouldn't miss it for the world.
Everything was in motion. Creaks and moans of wood accompanied each little, jarring movement. Dust and sweat permeated the air in hot gusts through a flapping canvas. Shafts of light seemed both bright and dim as everything continued to rock back and forth. Muffled footsteps and the sound of hooves accompanied the overwhelming noises.
Where am I? Link's throbbing mind started to work once again, an ache set in swiftly, fuzzy and painful all the way down to the skin of his teeth. Old instincts kicked back in and he immediately forced himself to be alert. Joints and muscles joined the cacophony of the creaking wood all around the hero. His feet were still underneath his body, his arms numb and stiff. An excessive amount of ropes held him up by his chaffed wrists and he struggled to stand completely upright. A bone-deep soreness raged throughout his body, only broken by the cutting pain of a gag drawn tight across his mouth. And his head, sweet Nayru, his head more than ached and throbbed; he could barely think.
Before Link could further assess his situation, the jarring motions came to an abrupt stop. He still couldn't feel his forearms, he couldn't even put his hands together with how far apart they were tied, held right above his shoulders; tight. It hurt. The quick stop made his sore shoulders cry out in pain. Everything shifted one more time before the canvas was thrown back, the summer light blinding Link. He didn't get a chance to see who or what got into the back of the wagon with him, all he felt was a rough hand grab his chin painfully, eliciting a sharp grunt from the brunette. He couldn't see more than dark spots, bright light, and the ominous, shadowy silhouette.
The rough hand did not let go, fighting it proved to be futile and painful. Up, down, left, right, his head was moved against his will; examined. Just as quickly as the silhouette came, it was gone, leaving Link to his confused pain and discomfort. Some feeling gradually began to return to his arms, with it came the sting of sweat dripping imto his rope burns. He was still incredibly dazed, his will to remain alert fading quickly. The pain in his skull made its rounds, around and around his head. He could smell the pain.
Without realizing it, he had been breathing heavily ever since the wagon stopped. Getting his wits about him, he calmed his breathing and immediately started tugging heavily on his bonds. Each tug sent a shockwave throughout his weary body, but he kept fighting with earnest. The more feeling that came back, the more aches plagued the young man. Desperation wrought of dread. He didn't know what would be coming, why he was there, all he knew were the ropes holding him captive. So, he fought.
Light once again flooded the small space where Link was being held. This time he fought harder, though his bonds offered no give. Many rough hands seized him, the shadows blocked his view of the sun as the ropes were removed. They wrestled his struggling form to the splintering floor of the wagon, tying more ropes on him, until they dragged him to the outside world. Splinters and new rope burns marred the hero's skin, his hands were tied in front of his body, the rope in the grasp of a large, hulking man. Spots and stars danced across Link's vision as an object made contact with his head, he went limp instantly. Dust disturbed by the movement around him tickled his nose and burned his eyes. A metallic clang reverberated through his body, whatever brief taste of freedom he could have had disappeared as the metal door to a prison wagon closed, encasing him once again in near-darkness.
Time passed in a consistent daze, only broken by the harsher bumps in the mystery road. Poor Link could scarcely think in snippets; nearly incomprehensible thoughts strewn amongst his emotions. Frightened and hurt, he could only just prop himself up and try to slip the gag off. Many thick ropes held him nearly immobile, allowing minimal movement, barely enough to painfully work the gag off. Head throbbing, he tucked his chin to his chest to try and keep it still. Hot sunlight continuously streamed through the few bars in the metal walls. It wasn't comfortable, the metal burned and hurt in the light, but he could barely move. He knew that he'd been in agony way worse than he was then, but he just couldn't remember when. The scent of metal was suffocating and the rusted floor itched and crumbled, leaving a fine, red dust wherever it made contact with him. Clanking metal, shouts, the sound of horses, the smell and feeling of his own pain and rust, the bright, burning light of the hot sun, it becae too much for the hero. Every excruciating bump wore on Link. Before long, his body started to tingle and go numb again, but his addled mind had already faded from consciousness long before it did.
Word got around quickly, such is the way of city life. People were already gossiping about the Queen and her suitor when Link stepped into Castle Town. The guards that usually hung around the perimeter of the market were missing, likely called to watch over the gathering inside the castle. People bustled around him, not sparing him a second glance. Not being easily recognized was a blessing for the hero, he wasn't wearing his typical garb, that and he'd left his weapons in a saddlebag, just as the invitation requested. Queen Zelda herself had asked him to relax for once and leave them, so he didn't really have a choice. She insisted he wear something nice and simple, something the tailor made him, a forgettable outfit of brown and ivory white.
The few guards Link spotted treated him with respect. They saluted, but remained otherwise stationary as they watched their hero pass by. Link knew he had plenty of time to spare, the shade of a building beckoned to him, inviting him to take sanctuary from the hot wewther. A moment to admire the world is never wasted, the summer sun shone bright in the Square, the fountain reflected its rays beautifully. Seeing the people go on with their lives, after all they'd gone through, it was refreshing. Link knew those streets well, he knew all the little secrets and corners. He knew that somewhere, around a corner, down a staircase, and into a humble bar, rested a place of kinship with his friends and the memory of a faithful companion. The air got a little fresher as he inhaled, filling himself with the sweet wind of content happiness. A good day, a beautiful day.
A glance at the sky spurred Link into motion, prompting him to start towards the castle. He strolled in through the main door with ease. Everything seemed fresh and new, the walls still held the hum of magic, telling the tale of how they were reconstructed. Link's boots made little sound on the soft, colourful rugs that paved the way to his goal. Upon arriving at the council room, the door creaked open at the royal guards' bidding. Stepping inside, he glanced around at the gathering, very few council members sat at the long table in the center. At the head of them all sat Zelda, standing behind her at her right side a young, wiry man with dark hair rested a hand firmly on her shoulder. Hearing the doors open, Link's sovereign looked up from the parchment before her. For a brief moment, silence lapsed across the entire room. Every head turned to face him, at least it seemed so, a head of ginger remained focused on the ground at his own feet.
Lifting her chin a bit higher, Zelda addressed Link, "We assume you know why you are here."
Link nodded, "Yes, your majesty."
He started to give her a small, gentle smile which faltered before it could make a full appearance. Her stare pierced him, a cold and hard look.
"Then you know better than to resist." Zelda's voice was distant; choppy.
He couldn't even begin to comprehend what happened. Deep within her icy eyes she remained vacant, a void of emotion; a phantom of her formal self. Strong arms -arms garbed in dark, unfamiliar armour- reached out and grabbed Link, the hero of her kingdom, a man he thought she considered a friend. He didn't get the chance to ask why; to protest. The second he struggled against those men, a bright light flashed, rebounding from the back of his skull to his eyes. The Hero of Twilight, a simple ranch hand, a friend of many, lay limp and unconscious in the arms of his captors. The image of the council he once trusted lay scattered in his mind, people he entrusted so much to were there. Among them, Shad hung his head and said naught a word as his friend was dragged away, once a respected hero; now stripped of his dignity.