Disclaimer: I don't own anything even remotely related to The Legend of Zelda. I've actually only played through Ocarina of Time and Majora's Mask, so I'm not even a true devotee. Don't sue.

Escape

by: thelittletree

(The idea of the Sheikah interested me from the beginning, and this fic has been sitting on my computer for so long. I thought I'd give it a whirl. The question that started it all is: where did Zelda go for seven years while Link was in the Sacred Realm? I tried to answer to the best of my imagination.)

Impa was late. And not just late, but late.

Zelda ran cold, nerveless fingers over the ocarina, marvellously smooth and spectacularly ancient, and knew she lingered automatically over the holes in the song her guardian had taught her. She was too uneasy, and too familiar with the comfort the notes had always brought to her to prevent herself from re-memorizing the tune at will. Though the presence of the instrument was less a comfort than a burden now.

Ganondorf wanted it.

She took a breath, and then let it out slowly. Impa had taught her how to deal with fear, too; the day her father had been busy and she'd been pale and sick and trembling about being presented at court. Impa had put her large hands on a young princess' shoulders and had fixed her charge with dark eyes determined, inflexible, infallible. Gently in, princess, breathe. Gently out. Her body was a machine for her mind; fear was a conquerable temptation with a little self-control. Gently in, breathe. Gently out. And she could've burst into music to drown out the growing storm.

The ocarina was still and silent in her hand, and for the first time Zelda couldn't imagine any life-force inside of it. It had no inherent will, no good, no evil. This magical little music-maker would have allowed the male Gerudo bandit to pass through the walls of time, granting him access to the Sacred Realm. Zelda didn't know much about the old legends, except for the bits and pieces her Sheikah guardian had told her in stories, but it was enough to make her sure that Ganondorf's evil presence there would spell doom for the Kingdom of Hyrule, as well as the rest of the world.

She swallowed uncomfortably in her snug corset as her stomach churned and mindlessly started to faux-play Impa's song again. She was sorry now that she'd overeaten at the dining table, but Impa had urged her to fill herself. They didn't know what was coming, her guardian had said, and if they were forced to flee there would be no time to stop along the way.

Impa had also told her to stay on her bed, so that's where she'd remained from that moment, and would remain until her guardian returned; but now she was beginning to look around her large, royal room and recognize all of the things she would be leaving behind when they fled, maybe forever. Trinkets, clothing, gifts, heirlooms; the heavy mirror had been her mother's. One day she'd hoped to grow up and look into it and imagine that her mother had done the same thing.

Sheikah logic would tell her that survival was more important than a mirror, than memories, than worrying about growing up without the expected mould. She couldn't see her reflection from here; it was still hard to let go of the dream.

Impa had explained that it was dangerous to stay much longer in the castle. Ganondorf was finally making his move. Zelda could almost sense in moments of spiking panic his presence downstairs in the main hall where he was probably battling her father's guards. Impa had described his lust for power, how it gave him unnatural strength, and had said it wouldn't be long before he overpowered the King's forces and came looking for her, Zelda.

Zelda patted her blue silk headdress back into place and then went on to smooth her dress free of clinging wrinkles. She had always known somehow that she was different; when it had upset her, Impa had reassured her with the old reminder that she had a destiny and her early maturity and depth of wisdom were necessary to fulfilling that destiny. Friends were not important. When Zelda had asked once about the instances of telepathy she'd been discovering, Impa had shook her head and told her it was not time for her to know.

Impa usually prided herself on being punctual. Zelda wet her lips, wondering if, perhaps, Ganondorf had found her. Impa was strong, stronger than anyone Zelda had yet met, but was she stronger than Ganondorf? What if she'd been killed? What would the princess do then?

Impa would want her to leave, she knew immediately, to run away from the castle, to escape Ganondorf. She shivered a little. Could she do it alone? On foot she wouldn't have a chance against him and his black horse, but…

A tap on her bedroom window jerked her out of her thoughts, and she whirled around on the bed. It was dark; there was a storm brewing in the clouds. The rain hadn't started yet, but a premature flash of lightning appeared, illuminating a figure in the window. Impa.

Zelda ran to the window and threw it open, almost refreshed by the tense, moisture-heavy gust of wind that chilled her through her clothing. A rumble of thunder rolled through her bedroom.

"Come, Princess," Impa urged quietly, her Sheikan accent making her words thick. Her white hair was still pulled back into its vicious ponytail, undisturbed by the weather, accentuating her angular face and the shadows, like doubt, in her normally impenetrable expression.

Zelda scrambled onto the window sill and, making sure not to look down, clambered into Impa's arms. In a moment, she was wrapping her small legs around Impa's waist and clutching at her guardian's shoulders. Impa quickly climbed down the vine she had ascended, long muscles stretching like a cat's. Soon they were on the ground and Ganondorf was none the wiser. Zelda looked around the darkness of the courtyard.

Fidel, her white horse, the one her father had given her as a present not even a year ago, grazing in the grass not far away. Before Zelda could ask a question, Impa took her hand and led her at a run over grass and flagstones alike. At Fidel's side, she lifted Zelda into the saddle and then mounted behind the princess, swinging her leg over with the grace of a leopard.

She slapped the reins lightly against Fidel's neck and they started into a quiet trot out of the courtyard and then around the castle, toward the gate. As they passed the stables, however, Zelda heard a shout from above. She glanced automatically up to the battlements of the palace, her stomach clenching with a strange, instinctive fear.

It was very dark now; the storm clouds had blackened the sky as if with festering bruises. Then a brilliant flash of lightning illuminated a figure standing on the wall. Zelda didn't have to see him clearly to know it was Ganondorf. She recognized the stanched, rotted feeling he exuded, as if he was a dead man in a living body. Just as the lightning faded, he threw himself down from the battlements with a harsh cry, followed closely by a bellow of thunder. Zelda choked back her scream as he landed less than a foot from them; would've landed on them if not for Impa's quick action.

With an inhuman-sounding growl, Ganondorf rolled to his feet. Impa didn't look back as she whipped the reigns against Fidel, urging him into a full run. Zelda twisted to watch as Ganondorf ran into the stables and then came out a moment later, riding his black horse in pursuit. Zelda shuddered and hid the sight behind the comforting form of Impa, huddling into her guardian as if she was cold, which she might well have been. She didn't need to watch to know that the black horse was catching up, its massive hooves pounding mercilessly on the cobblestones, its flared nostrils showing the inky depths of endless voids.

"You can't escape!" Ganondorf shouted from behind them.

Impa merely continued to whip Fidel with the reins, her face as impassive as stone. As they rode toward the bridge leading out onto the plains of Hyrule, the shops and houses of the town passing by in a shadowy, unfamiliar blur, the skies opened up, crying for the kingdom. Zelda squinted against the heavy droplets and leaned in closer to Fidel, almost lying down on the horse's sweet hay-scented mane. It calmed her almost into her own mind again. Yes, they were going to get away. It was the only answer that made sense.

The bridge thudded hollowly under Fidel's hooves as they thundered across. Then something ahead of them caught Zelda's eye.

It was the fairy boy.

He stared for a moment, open-mouthed, before fleeing out of range of Fidel's pumping legs. Zelda didn't know why he was there, but turned to watch him as they passed. And then she had an idea. Fumbling for the ocarina she had stuffed into her belt before climbing onto Impa's shoulders, she wrapped her cold fingers around it and pulled back her arm. Seeming to realize the princess's intent, Impa drew herself out of the way. And with a silent prayer to the guardians of the Sacred Realm, Zelda threw the instrument. It twirled, glinted as it flew through the air until it disappeared into the moat.

The boy had inevitably turned to watch its arc. Zelda's eyes returned to trace the way he stood, the pattern on his shield, until he was out of sight.

Take care, fairy boy...Link...

Impa kept them riding through the night. Zelda dozed fitfully, waking again and again from murky nightmares to find that they were still on the move. At first, it was almost impossible to see anything in the dark, but eventually the rain let up and the clouds drifted apart to reveal the moon in scattered patches.

Shadows flitted past Zelda's peripheral vision, making her jump before she had a chance to get a good look at them. She had never been outside of the castle walls; she had never even been in the courtyard after sunset. And now, here she was, riding on Fidel with her guardian in a forest in the darkest hours of night.

Yes, she reminded herself, I'm with my guardian. I will be all right. I don't want to show her my fear; I want to be strong. I will be strong, for my father, for my kingdom, for Hyrule. For Link. He'll need my strength. He'll need me to be strong, for him.

Link would destroy Ganondorf and return the castle to its former glory, the world to its past peace. It was destiny. Impa would take her back. And her father would honor Link the way he deserved. Maybe Link would be allowed to enter the castle to play with her sometimes. It would be good to have a real friend for once.

Zelda felt her head begin to droop suddenly as her eyes began to flutter shut. Resigned to her weariness, calmed for the moment without fears for the present, she leaned back against Impa's comforting bulk and succumbed again to a fitful sleep. Vaguely, she hoped the ride would be over by the time she awoke again.

Time is an unpredictable element. Sometimes an hour can pass like a day, a day like an hour. A good year will come to an end too quickly while a bad year stretches on, spreading its weary, toiling atmosphere to every creature in the world.

To be sure, the year following the one in which Zelda fled the castle was a bad one.

Ganondorf returned to the kingdom and overpowered the King's forces with his supernatural strength. He slaughtered everyone, torturing a few mercilessly, demanding to know the whereabouts of Princess Zelda. But, of course, no one knew.

The King's head was placed on a post to rot. The people who had escaped the massacre fled the town for other places. As Ganondorf's evil grew, monsters began to roam the streets. Eventually, no one could even venture between villages; those who did either didn't return or came back spouting tales of spirits and haunting, alluring lights.

Ganondorf was never seen. The monsters he created, the destruction of the Kingdom of Hyrule, and the strange fire cloud over the volcano above Kokariko Village were the only evidence of him. At first there was talk of overthrowing the Evil King, but after several of the revolutionaries were found mysteriously dead the talk of rebellion stopped. And the people began to hope for some kind of a hero to rescue them.

Some said they had seen the Princess Zelda and her Sheikah guardian riding out of the town during the night the castle had been taken. Some spoke of her return, with an army, when she would retake the throne and peace would be restored.

And so the people endured, waiting, wishing on the last star, hoping against hope that a better time was coming.

Not many outside of the Kokiri village noticed the disappearance of a boy named Link.

The Kokiri wondered for awhile what had happened to him. They had been told long ago by the Deku Tree that they couldn't survive beyond the border of the village, so many of them believed Link's strange curiosity for the outside world had finally led him to his death. Whenever anyone asked Saria about his whereabouts, however, she merely gave an enigmatic, if wistful, smile, and looked away as if she could see him in the distance.

Malon, the daughter of Talon, owner of Lon Lon Ranch, wondered sometimes where the fairy boy she had met once had gone. The night Ingo kicked her father out of the ranch, threatening to harm his daughter if he didn't do as he was told, Malon prayed for the fairy boy's return. He had brought her father back to her before, surely he could do it again. She continued on at the ranch, unwilling to run away and leave it to the dishonourable Ingo; waiting for her father, praying for help, wondering where the boy had gone.

There was one, a diminutive princess in Zora's domain, who awaited the arrival of the fairy boy with something less than patience; waiting for the day he would return and make good on his promise to marry her. After half a year, she'd gotten angry at his long absence and had promised herself that she would wait no longer. And yet, she continued to wonder what had happened to him, and sometimes, in her humbler moments, praying for his safe return.

And yet, of all of these, there was one who wondered about his disappearance the most, waiting for the moment when she would have to come out of hiding and help defeat Ganondorf. Of all of those who looked to the heavens for an answer, she searched the stars most often, knowing how large a task she had set in front of a boy she hardly knew. It still surprised her now and again how much trust she had put in him. And yet, she remained sure that her trust had been well founded. The first moment she had set eyes on him had convinced her that he was the one sent to help. Surely fate was on his side.

And so the world held its breath, wondering, waiting, expecting. And Zelda waited.

And so a year passed.