Between a Rock and a Hard Place

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James Birdsong (Guest): I'm glad you liked it!

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It wasn't long before a simple campfire burned cheerfully on a level stretch of bare stone nearby. Carefully Zelda pulled Link's limp form closer to the warmth - a difficult task, as despite his small stature his muscles were still quite dense - and rolled up his bloodied tunic, placing it beneath his head to make him a little more comfortable.

"Let's see…" she murmured, kneeling over him and gently examining his head. He'd said he hadn't hit it, but he'd hidden injuries in the past to keep him from worrying. "Honestly, Link," she said with a forced smile, trying to lighten her heart somehow. "For the best warrior in the land you certainly have a knack for getting into painful situations."

Tenderly she ran her hands through his hair - for the sole purpose of searching for a bruise, of course - and lifted his eyelids, ensuring that neither pupil was larger than the other. So you told the truth this time. Good.

She checked the wounds in his sides once more; the bandages were already glistening with red. Biting her lip, she pressed down on them, feeling the warmth of his blood on her hands. At last she allowed a tear to escape her eye; she could hardly believe that barely half an hour ago they'd been cheerfully heading out to another shrine. Now Link was wounded, perhaps fatally, and the Sheikah Slate was broken, leaving them without any way to get him swiftly to a healer. Or to Purah, who had extensively researched the Shrine of Resurrection and might possibly know something better to do.

She sighed heavily, fear clenching around her heart as she pressed harder against the arrow wounds, praying to Farore that she would never have to hurt him again.

The sun was directly above them when the flow of blood finally slowed enough for her to feel safe removing her hands. She removed the bloodied bandages, intending to replace them with clean ones; as she did so she noticed Link's blue eyes upon hers.

"Good afternoon, sleepyhead," she teased with a forced smile, finishing the last knot. "Try to stay awake, alright?"

He grunted noncommittally. His gaze never left her, not as she got to her feet and searched through Jackpine's saddlebags one more time for anything that could help, not as she removed the horse's bridle to allow him to graze freely, not as she stared out at the forest where she knew a lynel lay in wait.

She turned back to him with a sigh, unstopping the water flask she'd found and gently tilting his head upwards. "I'd clean those wounds of yours, but there's nothing -"

Link interrupted her, gagging, coughing violently as water sprayed from his mouth. He groaned, clutching at his swollen ribs with his good hand and turning his head to the side to spit. "Not water," he croaked, looking at her with bewilderment. "That's - that's alcohol!"

Zelda's eyes widened and she stared at the flask. "Didn't you bring any water?" she asked, frustrated. So she could clean his wounds now, but they would both die of dehydration.

Link leaned his head back, breathing heavily. "On - on my belt," he murmured hoarsely.

Of course, she thought, ashamed for doubting his preparedness. "Right, then," Zelda said with a humorless chuckle. "I'm sorry." She walked to Link's items lying on the ground and unhooked the two medium-sized leather canteens from his belt.

He looked at her dazedly. "I w-wouldn't forget water," he assured her. "Wouldn't… wouldn't forget alcohol, either… infection could… could k-kill…"

She winced. "About that... do you want water before or after I clean these wounds?" Her heart sank; here she was, having to hurt him again.

"After," he mumbled, inhaling as deeply as his swollen ribs allowed. "Can - can I have a s-stick?"

Zelda blinked at him, slightly confused; she turned to the little pile of twigs she'd been able to gather for the fire and handed one to him. With his good hand he placed it between his teeth before nodding at her, grim resolution hard in his gaze. She swallowed tightly and tore a small bit of cloth from the roll of bandages and dabbed alcohol onto it before dabbing it on the smaller gash in his arm. He didn't cry out, but she could see the muscles in his jaw tightening.

She knew she had to be thorough. Link reused his arrows; lynels were certainly intelligent enough to do the same. Hylia only knew where the two arrows that pierced him had been before. And that sword had looked sharp, certainly, but not clean.

At the same time, she loathed to cause him any more pain, despite knowing that it could save his life. She tried to hurry.

His breaths became more and more uneven as she moved on to the arrow wounds. The way his teeth tightened around the stick and the strained groans emanating from his throat revealed that he was doing his utmost to hold back screams of anguish. Zelda murmured apologies over and over again, tears burning in her eyes as she pressed her cloth into the wounds, fearing for the torn innards that she couldn't get to.

The longer slice across his chest was easier to clean, as it wasn't half as deep, but it was certainly a bit dirtier. Perhaps it struck rocks when he fell. She winced, noting the swollen ribs right around the dirtiest area of the wound. More than likely.

Link cried out sharply as she continued to dab at the dust in the wound, carefully cleaning it away. His good hand tightened into a fist and he trembled, the remaining color draining from his already-pallid face. "Breathe," Zelda urged him, forcing calm assurance that she did not feel into her voice. "Just keep breathing, Link. Stay awake for me, alright?"

He looked at her, eyes hazy with pain, and sucked in a sharp breath. "For you," he mumbled around the stick as she finally wrapped fresh bandages around the wound.

I didn't mean it that way, she thought, her heart burning as she was reminded, once again, of just how much he had gone through for her sake.

She helped him crawl back to the cliff once again, leaning him against the rocks as she cleaned the two puncture wounds in his back. Her breath stilled in her throat as she saw the ragged edges of the one he'd had to force the arrow through; it was so much larger than the other one, and the skin was surrounded by bloodied electrical burns, swollen and shiny and blistered, with just a hint of black. With tears stinging her eyes she pressed pressed her cloth to the wound and Link flinched, a strangled cry of agony escaping his throat as his breathing quickened.

"Hold on," she pleaded, gently rubbing his shoulder with her free hand as she continued cleaning the ghastly injury to the best of her ability. She could feel him shuddering, could feel the sweat dampening his strong body, could feel his muscles tightly coiled in response to the pain. "I'm almost done - hang in there, alright?"

She couldn't tell if he'd heard her. The only response he gave was hoarse whimpers, sounds that she could tell he was trying his best to hold back.

The instant she finished with the alcohol, she snatched fresh bandages and wrapped them securely around his wounds. It was a difficult process; by then he was barely conscious, and she was supporting most of his weight. The stick had fallen from his jaws; he was slumped against her shoulder, his breaths rapid and uneven.

It didn't escape her notice that his skin had gotten considerably colder, and clearly he had become tremendously weaker since regaining consciousness. As she carefully lowered him down to his back, his eyes slipped closed; exhaustion and pain pulled him into darkness.

And she was on her own again.

Biting her lip, she gazed down at him, searching for anything more she could do. The afternoon sun had passed beyond the cliff they huddled against, casting them into shadow; struck by a sudden idea she hurried back to Jackpine and snatched his saddle blanket, slapping it free from as much dust as she could manage. Despite Link's meticulous care for his horses, even he was not so skilled that he could keep a saddle blanket perfectly clean.

When she was satisfied, she returned to her hero and held it above him. But she hesitated; her eyes found the faded lines of scars streaking all over his body, and she felt somehow paralyzed by the sight. Some were smooth, shiny; others were thin white lines raised up from the rest of his skin, and still others were a vibrant pink, knotted and ropy.

In that moment, as she tucked the edges of the blanket around his shoulders and adjusted his bloodied tunic beneath his head, she couldn't help the tears that sprang to her eyes. Link had told her his greatest fear, but she kept her own a secret from him.

I'm terrified every time you're hurt.

For when he was wounded, his pain became her own. Seeing him beaten, broken, bloodied; hearing him groan and scream…

It was torture to her.

The afternoon passed in painful near-silence, broken only by the crackle of sparks and Link's rasping breaths. Jackpine grazed nearby; Zelda had removed his bridle to allow him more comfort, but he did not wander far. She herself didn't feel particularly hungry, but she forced herself to eat one of the apples they had packed for lunch anyway. I need to keep a clear head.

Then, her stomach satisfied, she leaned back against the side of the cliff and tried to think.

The most pressing issue was, of course, Link's condition. The heads of the shock arrows had truly been viciously shaped; they would have torn him apart as they travelled through his body. And then there were the electrical burns that had possibly been inflicted inside of him as well, and those first few minutes with one arrowhead embedded within him, releasing a constant current of electricity through his body.

Broken wrist, broken ankle, broken ribs, and two more gashes burned across his body. No concussion, thank the Goddesses, but he was unconscious, and still bleeding, from his injuries and from his mouth, and probably in shock.

It did not look good for the man she loved.

With a sigh, she removed his bundled-up tunic from beneath his head and instead placed it gently beneath his ankles, elevating them as much as she could. For a moment she paused, studying his boots. Should I remove them? Does it matter? Or would it only cause more damage to his injured foot?

Deciding against it, she backed away, resuming her analysis of the situation. Treat it like a research project. Knowns, unknowns, an end goal or expected result...

The last bit was easy: Link had to get help, and soon, from someone far more capable than she. And the unknown bit of that is… where can we find that someone?

She'd said it to him earlier - she didn't know this land or its people any more. Thus, my knowledge of possible healers is at worst nonexistent.

Biting her lip, she moved on. Alright. Knowns - Link is badly injured, perhaps fatally. The way back to the stable, or to someone able to fix the Sheikah Slate, is blocked by two lynels. One of said lynels is of a breed so powerful that it was enough to best my knight. Both are heavily armed, and have bows, which means that any attempt to ride past them as swiftly as possible would likely end in pursuit and death.

There were tears pricking her eyes, but she wouldn't allow herself to release them. Not yet.

Unknowns - how long Link will last out here; how long our supplies, meaning food and water, will last; how long it will take for someone to come looking for us…

For a moment, remembering that the stable expected them back by evening, her spirits soared.

Then she remembered the lynels.

Add that to the list of knowns - if someone comes looking for us, the lynels will either kill them or drive them off.

So we can't expect outside help.

She turned her attention to the resources they had available. Two mostly-full canteens of water. A fast, strong horse. The Master Sword, which had fallen from Link's hands down the cliff moments before he followed. His bow and a half-full quiver of arrows (many had spilled when he fell, and several others were broken). A few more apples, and strips of dried meat. A fire. A tiny flask of alcohol designed for healing purposes. A diminishing role of bandages.

And a broken Sheikah Slate, a wounded swordsman, and a former princess unaccustomed to wilderness survival.

Fantastic.

Sighing heavily, she turned her attention back to Link. No change - he was still nearly motionless, still unnaturally pale, still breathing raggedly. And that's the most important thing right there - that he's breathing.

But it doesn't help me help him.

Nevertheless, I must do something.

Her eyes settled on the Master Sword, lying with the rest of Link's gear. A memory sparked to her mind - Link in her arms, having finally breathed his last, lying limp and cold and dead on a rain-drenched, blood-soaked battlefield.

"So he can… he can still be saved?"

She blinked, returning to the present with an ache in her soul. The last thing she wanted was to relive that day. Please, Goddesses above, don't let this be a repetition of that moment!

Swallowing tightly, she made her way to the sacred blade lying discarded on the stone and gripped the hilt. It felt wrong in her hands - cold, uncomfortable, heavy - just as it had back then.

But the fact that she wasn't struck dead, or that she was able to lift it at all, meant that the sword wanted her to hold it.

Just as it had back then.

With a deep preparatory breath, she closed her eyes. "Please," she whispered. "What must I do to save him?"

At first there was only silence. She waited with baited breath, with faith, with hope.

And a light chime broke the still air. "He knows what to do…"

Zelda blinked rapidly. The voice was so much clearer, so much stronger, than it had been a century ago. "I know that. But he's currently unconscious and cannot tell me what I need to do."

"You have everything you need," the voice went on. "You have studied lynels, have you not?"

Zelda stared at the blade, baffled. "No, I studied ancient technology and botany."

There was a brief pause.

"There is a 99.9994% chance that Link assumed you studied all things and informed me likewise while his memories were incomplete."

Zelda shook her head. "Well, he cannot be blamed for that. Are you saying that we need to study lynels? Does Link know whatever it is about lynels that I need to know to save him?"

There was another uncomfortable silence before the blade spoke again. "That was a most convoluted question, Spirit Maiden. However, you lack the time and materials required to study lynels to the extent necessary to save Link at this time, and neither does Link have the information you seek. However, I have encountered lynels upon multiple occasions and was able to complete my scans upon their being. As a weapon my scans only returned information applicable to combat, but I believe I have data that would be of use to you."

Zelda raised an eyebrow in surprise. Not only was the voice stronger, but it also seemed more talkative, and apparently had developed a bit of an attitude. A reflection, perhaps, of how Link has changed? "Erm… would you tell me, then?"

"I believe that if he found out, Link would be most displeased if I withheld such information from you."

"So are you telling me or not?"

The blade's hilt returned to its usual dark violet-blue color for several moments before flashing a pale teal. "There is a 100% probability that Link would request this same information upon awakening. Therefore, to save time and perhaps his life, I will relay unto you data that is 87.56% likely to aid his recovery.

"Lynels will not allow others into their lands unless it is their mating season. However, during this time, from early spring until mid-summer, these creatures become roughly 3.2 times more aggressive towards other males.

"I have also found that lynels have terrible eyesight due to a pupil diameter of 0.23 centimeters; however, their extraordinary senses of smell and hearing account for this limitation."

"And how does this help?" Zelda demanded, beginning to feel frustrated with the sacred blade.

There was a slight pause. "I am forbidden by the Goddesses from directly revealing the correct solutions to anyone, even my master himself."

Of course. Zelda chewed her lip thoughtfully, looking around. Gently she set the sword back down, eager to relieve herself from its uncomfortable presence, and leaned back against the cliffside.

It was right at the beginning of summer. Though Akkala's flaming forests did their best to maintain the illusion of autumn, everything else testified that the warmest days of the year had come. The air smelled of fresh young grass and wildflowers and cool stone; the breezes, when they drifted through, were warm and soothing. Birds sang, not quite as loud as they had in the morning, and the afternoon sun was just a bit fiercer than was comfortable.

And apparently, lynels are searching for their one and only.

Which makes them more aggressive.

And apparently that is why one of them attacked us without even Link noticing it until it was too late.

"They have a strong sense of smell," she mused out loud. "Could it, perhaps, have smelled…" Her voice trailed away and she frowned, thinking hard. Lynels appear part horse, part man, part… lion?

And Link was a man and Jackpine a horse, and both were male. "Did it perhaps confuse Link with a male lynel? And it might have smelled me and was confused…"

"That is correct," the sword answered rather smugly, and Zelda jumped in surprise. "I recall that the monstrologist Kilton noticed that Link smells similar to a lynel, most likely because of the time he spends travelling with horses without bathing. He has thus far ignored my suggestions for improving his hygiene while in the wilderness."

"That isn't particularly helpful," she muttered, feeling her cheeks flush warmly. "So… I know why it attacked us, but that doesn't help us -"

She stopped, a strange thought entering her mind. "Those two lynels were so engrossed with fighting each other that they lost all interest in Jackpine and I."

"It would appear that lynels have a terrible memory as well, although I lack the ability to perform scans that penetrate deeply enough to truly test that."

Ignoring the sword, Zelda pressed her hands to her temples, feeling the glimpse of an idea beginning to coalesce in her mind. "What if… what if we somehow got them to fight each other again? Then we could ride around them and escape…"

"An excellent idea. Would you like me to point out the flaws in your reasoning?"

Zelda frowned at the blade. "By all means, go ahead," she glowered. "It seems perfectly fine to me; they mistook us for a lynel once - why not again? If only I am riding Jackpine -"

"Jackpine still smells like a male, and since the mating season of horses overlaps with that of a lynel, you would be attacked by whichever lynel is closest."

Zelda huffed impatiently. This is stupid - and pointless. And most certainly not helping me save Link. "What do you suggest, then?" she demanded. "I can't just walk up to a lynel on my own - it would have to be literally blind not to notice that I am not even half of its height and therefore could not be mistaken for a female lynel. Which makes it impossible for me to lead one lynel to the other, and even if that did work, I would never be able to get away in time - I would be killed, and then Link would be on his own entirely."

"I cannot offer any suggestions at this time. However, I can tell you that you are very close to a solution that has a 73.49% chance of success. I suggest you discuss your plan with Master Link when he awakens."

Zelda inhaled deeply, struggling to keep her temper in check, balling her hands into fists. Whose brilliant idea was it to give an immortal sword the ability to communicate?!

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It's currently springtime where I am. After a week of very pleasant weather... it snowed! I'm not joking! But it would have strained credulity to include snow in this story; it seems that Hyrule (although suffering from an abundance of rain) is not as prone as my hometown to random snowstorms, although it certainly would've made for an interesting additional challenge. I hope you're enjoying this story anyway!