AN: The main thing that got me writing this was the way time moves in the Twilight Princess fishing minigame. It moves fast, insanely fast, much faster than the day-night cycle in the field. In about eight minutes of fishing, at least two days had gone by. It made me think about how just sixteen minutes would equal almost an entire workweek spent sitting in a canoe. What would it be like? What would anyone watching from the shore think? It's silliness at its best.
And, for anyone who's wondering, "Esox" is the genus name for any Pike. "Hylius" is what I believe the species name would be. Giving us, drumroll please, "Hylian Pike" in the formal Latin nomenclature.
What had started as a fun, relaxing fishing trip quickly degenerated into an exercise in futility and torment. Despite his considerable stamina, Link's body simply couldn't withstand the abuse he was forcing on it and the hero was suffering the consequences.
Three, bordering on four days spent hunched over in the front of a canoe had taken it's toll. His arms burned from the constant effort of paddling the canoe and holding the holding the fishing rod. Thanks to his fatigue, the light bamboo pole seemed just as weighty as the sword slung across his back. His back itself was cramped and scorched from holding one position under the hot sun. It twinged painfully every time he cast his lure and forced his spine to move. His feet and legs tingled with the pricks of electrified pins and needles, but his bottom was so numb from the stretch of days spent sitting that it was as if it never existed. On several occasions Link had felt the urge to stand and check if it was still there, remembering just in time that by standing up he risked tipping the canoe and scaring away the reason he was on the lake at all: his prey.
The fish responsible for Link's distress hovered within casting range, suspended sedately in one spot beneath the pond's glassy surface. The gigantic Hylian Pike had not moved an inch since Link had found it. It sat and watched, amused as Link struggled and failed to interest it in his selection of lures, baits, and hooks. Every half hour or so it would open it's mouth and let out a stream of bubbles. Link knew it sounded absurd, but he was sure the pike was mocking him, rubbing in the fact that he was still underwater and not flopping around in the hero's boat. It was infuriating, but the fish's ploy backfired. Instead of making him give up and paddle back to the dock, the taunting only spurred Link on.
He would catch this fish. He was the hero and he wouldn't go back to the shop until his quest was complete and the pike was in his custody. A brave and honorable goal, but one that Link knew, and suspected the pike knew too, was unlikely.
The prey Link was angling after was no dumb fish. It was a legend among the fishermen who frequented Hena's shop and a worthy adversary, one who deserved every ounce of distrust and animosity Link was sending at it. The beast was at least forty inches long, had rows upon rows of needle teeth, each one as strong as a steel awl, and ridges of spikes edging its fins sharp enough to slice right through boot leather, or the hand that held them carelessly. There were rumors that it wasn't really a pike but a half-pike, half-skullfish hybrid. Whatever its heritage, the formidable fish had outsmarted every angler who came after it, earning its nickname "The Terror of the Deep."
Faced with that truth, Link had to admit it was useless. From the moment he hopped into his canoe and paddled out from the dock he knew his chances for success were low. However, now they were near nonexistent. For the first time in his days of fishing, Link found he was unable to concentrate. On his boat, Link had been able to meet most of his basic needs. If he had a free hand he could raise his shield for some shade and shelter, surrounded by water he would never go thirsty, and if he so chose, though he never did, he could have taken naps in the canoe. He also had a bucket. The only thing he was unable to sate was his hunger.
Link's stomach, far past growling, roared, protesting its emptiness and demanding to be fed. The racket it was making could no doubt be heard on shore and mistaken for thunder.
When he first set out to fish, Link hadn't been expecting to stay out for so long, so he left the docks a bit peckish. The last thing he had eaten was a bottle of simple soup he had left over from his visit to Yeto's. He regretted having left without refilling his bottles with the superb soup his yeti host had been bragging about, but Link had been able to almost ignore his hunger by devoting all his attention to capturing his scaly foe. Now that his thoughts turned back to his stomach, food was all he could focus on. He was starving and, until he got something in his belly, he would be unable to fish. The pike would have beaten him!
That could not be allowed.
Link rifled though his supplies and equipment, desperately hoping there was something to eat that he'd forgotten in his vast collection on stuff. Unfortunately, he couldn't find a thing. There were bombs, arrows, lantern oil, just about every inedible object under the sun, but no real food. In hindsight, Link realized he might have been too gung-ho for fishing when he emptied all his bottles of potions and fairies to make room for bait. If it really came down to it, Link was sure could catch a fish, but out in the water there would be no way to cook it short of setting off a bomb in the boat, which seemed unwise. Then again, he still has bait, and he'd heard that bee larva was edible...
Link pulled out the bottle of larva and peered in at the eight writhing grubs he had left. Their tiny, squishy, segmented bodies reminded him of the last shadow insect he'd fought on Lake Hylia and suddenly the idea of catching a greengill and eating it raw became much more appetizing.
The grubs were little and disgusting, but they would stave off the hunger, maybe long enough for Link to land the mythic pike. He uncorked the bottle, cast a baleful glare at his aquatic enemy, and gulped down every last larva.
As bad as Link thought it was going to be, it proved to be fifty times worse. In his haste not to taste them, Link neglected to chew and swallowed the larva whole, and alive. They squirmed and wriggled all the way down his throat. It took all of Link's willpower to restrain himself from leaning over the side of the boat and allowing what had just gone down to come back up. He did, however, hunch over into a seated version of the fetal position and rest his forehead against the canoe's wooden gunwale. It wasn't much, but it helped.
Once his stomach stopped roiling, Link sat back up and scanned the shoreline to make sure no one had seen him. Luckily the fishing hole's business was slow at the end of the day so there wasn't anyone around to have witnessed his disgusting little snack.
Gripping his fishing rod tightly, Link prepared to cast. As nauseating as the larva had been, they were quite nutritious and restored enough of his vigor to keep him going. With the small second wind he had been granted, Link would land that pike! He was energized and ready to fish, and there was no force in this world of the next that would stop him.
With a gentle flick of his wrist, Link sent his lure arcing gracefully over the surface of the pond. The motion had been refined during the fishing marathon until Link's aim was perfect, the lure landing just two inches from the pike's face. Or, more accurately, where he knew the pike's face was.
The reason there weren't many customers near the end of each day was that the water was always murky. Currents in the lake and the daily rainstorm stirred up sediment from the lakebed and clouded the water. It happened regularly, so predictable that Hena set her clocks by it, and never lasted long but just long enough to discourage impatient fishermen.
Link waited stoically for the waters to clear, ever alert for a bite and his opportunity to set the hook in The Terror of the Deep. His patience paid off as the particles of marl began to sink back to the bottom of lake. It had only been a few minutes, but he could already make out the shapes of the swaying aquatic plants the pike had been loitering in. As the murkiness continued to dissipate the rocks, lakebed, and other fish swimming about all became visible again. The water was perfectly clear once more, and Link had to fight his hardest to hold back the anguished cry that threatened to rip from his throat.
The pike was gone.
Link couldn't believe it. The spot he had focused on for four days, the place where his fishy foe had taunted him from, it was empty. Still numb from the shock, Link realized the pike must have waited until the visibility in the lake was poor, then swam away using the floating muck as a sort of smokescreen. Good tactics, for a fish that is; but even as he admired the pike's strategy Link felt like pulling out his sword and hacking his fishing rod to pieces.
Four days, almost a week of his life, wasted fishing for that cowardly, insidious pike. Not to mention he was hungry again... He was exhausted, starving, sunburned, and generally in pain; but worst of all, Link felt defeated. After all that effort, all the suffering he'd withstood, his enemy had just scoffed and floated away. Even the twilight beasts had been more honorable than that! None of them ever fled from battle. To be snubbed by a fish, it was humiliating...
Link heaved a resigned sigh then reached behind him in the canoe and grabbed the paddle he'd stowed under the seats. He didn't like it, he hated it, but he was realistic. It was obvious that he was in no condition to pursue his quarry. The logical thing to do would be to go back and eat something before he passed out in the middle of the lake.
As he paddled back to shore, Link vowed that it wasn't the end. Once he was fit again, he would return and catch that pike. The Terror of the Deep would be his, no matter what!
But first he needed something to get the taste of bee larva out of his mouth...
AN: Yes, bee larva are edible. If you've never caught them or never tried them before, each larva restores one fourth of a heart. (Link makes a hilariously disgusted face when he eats them.) Also, the water in he fishing hole does change between clear and murky on a set schedule. It's clear during the morning and gets more clouded as the day progresses. The water quality is worst at the end of the day when it rains.