Prologue

The town is quiet, silent. The pale, creamy light of sunrise creeps across the housetops. A man steps out of his house near the edge of town, his sword thudding lightly against his back in its scabbard, the insignia of the Royal Army etched into the medal attached to his shoulder. He glances at the rising sun, squinting, slipping down a side street, reappearing beside another home and knocks on its door.

Another man answers, slinging his scabbard over his shoulder. He's frowning at the soldier at his door, closing it with more force than required.

"How are you, Alo?" the soldier says, jabbing a joking elbow into the other man's arm. "Why such a long face when we're being summoned to the army?" The man's hair is blond, tied tight in a small ponytail.

Alo frowns deeper, rubbing absently at his arm. "Dellon, do you think Yew is...being unfaithful?"

"Yew?" laughs Dellon. "Being unfaithful? You know she adores you."

"Yeah." Alo sighs. "I guess so."

The silence stretches on; they pass the main gate, saluting the guards as they pass, before Alo says something again.

"I think something might be wrong with the baby."

"Oh, you're full of great thoughts today, aren't you?" Dellon sighs. "Why do you say so?"

Alo shrugs, hunching his shoulders, tugging on his military issued cap until it engulfs his short black hair. "She was in pain the morning, holding her stomach. She threw up before breakfast."

It's Dellon's turn to frown and he glances at Alo. "She should probably see the healer, then. You sure it isn't just morning sickness or the baby kicking?"

Alo shakes his head. "She didn't feel sick, just threw up suddenly. And you know it's not far enough along; she's only as pregnant as Mella is." Here he grins at Dellon, but the smile is gone quickly. "The baby isn't kicking yet."

"Oh," Dellon says softly, smiling at the mention of his wife's name. "We'll be first time dads together, eh?"

"Yeah." They start through a stand of trees. "But—"

Dellon shushes him, freezing. After a moment, he whispers, "Did you hear that?"

"Hear what—"

There's the sound of a breath releasing, a grunt, and Dellon drops to the ground, a throwing knife sunk to its hilt between his shoulder blades. Alo ducks, and the next knife flies past.

There's no time to help Dellon, who is coughing—is that blood? Dear Hylia—before pain blossoms in Alo's side. Are the knives poisoned? The wound burns as he tips over and slumps to the ground, hands grabbing for his wound.

There's a laugh. "Good shot!" A woman appears from the foliage, another on her heels. The first, a soldier not from the Royal Army, prods Dellon with her boot. He doesn't react. "Lord Ganondorf will be happy we didn't encounter much trouble."

"What trouble?" the other woman laughs, placing a foot on Alo's side as if to roll him over. She removes her foot after a moment, leaving a dusty print on Alo's jacket.

"Let's go report." They reach down and jerk the knives from the bodies and the tree the missed one hit. They leave the two men there for dead, bleeding out. The wood goes silent again.

Then a grunt and cursing.

Alo pushes himself to his knees, panting, one hand coming away from his wound bloodied. It goes back quickly, tugging at his shirt and pressing, hard. He stays that way for a minute, breathing harsh and eyes glassy, before staggering to one foot.

He reaches for Dellon, but he already knows. He's dead, no longer breathing, and, when Alo checks, his pulse no longer beats a rhythm against Alo's shaking finger. He triple checks and stares into his dead friend's eyes.

How is he supposed to tell Mella?

He grunts as he gets to his feet, removing his hand from his side for a moment to wipe his eyes, lurches to the edge of the forest, stumbles along the path they took, staggers to a stop ten feet from the gate, and slumps to the ground.

He passes out to the sound of footfalls.

Alo wakes to find his wife by his side, his abdomen wrapped tightly.

"Oh, you're awake!" Yew exclaims. Her eyes are bloodshot and wide, probably like his, and she runs to the door to shout, "He's awake!"

The healer, a withered old man named Yarrow, comes in with fresh bandages and some sort of herb. Mella, Dellon's pregnant wife and who will replace the healer if he dies, follows him with a bowl of soup, and she is the last person Alo wants to see at the moment. Her face is hopeful and he will have to ruin it.

The first question out of Mella's mouth is a shaky, "Where is Dellon?" Her hand is on her stomach, rubbing circles. "Is he okay?"

But of course—of course—she knows, because he would be here, in this room, or perhaps in a neighbor's home, resting and healing but very much alive, if he were 'okay'. But he's not and never will be again.

And all Alo can muster is a small, sad, slow shake of his head.

So odd that such a tiny gesture smashes the hope on her face so easily. Devastates without effort.

Mella clutches at her heart with one hand and her stomach with the other, sobs racking her small frame, bending her over her knees. She cries and screams and Alo swears the entire town can hear her. Yew remains frozen, unblinking, by her husband's bedside, and the healer simply bows his head and prays.

Only later does anyone think of sending someone to fetch Dellon's body.

Tempest Bound: This is replacing my other Zelda story. A complete and utter overhaul. I want to get back into fanfiction, as well, so...

And before anyone asks, this particular story takes place early in the chronology, but where I won't say, since it might give away some spoilers.

Hope you enjoy!