Chapter Three
He wanted to go home. More than anything in the world, he wanted to go home. He wanted his house, he wanted his woods, he wanted to show off his sword skills to the children, and he wanted to talk to Ilia. Things would never be the same between them. How could they be?
He couldn't go home, though. No, for the time being, he was confined to the castle. Zelda claimed it was for his health, but he doubted that was the full truth. Granted he couldn't promise not to try and find another way into the Twilight Realm if he did leave.
He wanted to hate Midna. He wanted to hate her for leaving him, for destroying their one chance of seeing one another again. But he couldn't hate her.
The past several days had been hell. He dreamed of her, only to wake and remember that she was gone, gone forever. Other times he would sleep only to dream of the horrors he had endured in trying to save her realm, in trying to save his own realm. More than once he had woken screaming in the dead of the night.
He had been wandering the castle, hoping it would alleviate at least part of his restlessness. He paused when he heard voices from a nearby room.
"It is past time she assumes the throne," he heard a woman's voice say. Zelda had tried to teach him the names, but he couldn't remember most of them. Everyone in her court looked the same after awhile, all dressed in finery, all with perfectly done hair, all with the sense of superiority they pretended not to have.
"You know the law," another voice, this time a man's, said. "She must be wed first."
"I don't see why," the woman responded. "It's not like her suitor would become king, after all."
"No," the man conceded. "But the people like to see a pair on the throne."
Link sighed and kept walking. He had no interest in court politics. He had no real interest in Zelda either. They had become acquaintances, friends would be stretching the word, but that was all. He had saved her, she had thanked him, they talked from time to time.
Until he had come to the castle, he had thought Hyrule was all that was out there, at least aside from the Twilight Realm and the City in the Sky. His mistake had quickly been corrected, both by Zelda and by her advisors. She had insisted Link attend meetings. He had, after all, saved them all. She believed he could provide valuable insight to the group.
His ideas, however, were almost always shot down. They were either too reckless, too complicated, or not complicated enough. They were plans that may have worked for Link himself, but would surely have failed in larger groups.
It didn't help either that each time he addressed the princess by her given name, he was met with appall from the others. "Her Royal Majesty," more than one had corrected. "Soon to be Her Grace."
"I thought Her Grace was a title reserved for Goddesses?" Link had snapped back on a particularly bad day.
"And the Goddesses' chosen ruler," the advisor said. "Even schoolboys know that."
"Tal," Zelda said sternly. "Enough."
"Forgive me, Your Royal Majesty," Tal apologized, placing extra emphasis on the styling while a slight smirk showed at the corner of his mouth. "I just could not bear the thought of this, this farm boy disrespecting you like that."
"Need I remind you that farm boy saved us all?" Zelda raised an eyebrow.
"Of course," Tal responded. "After you had sold us all to the Twili."
"That's quite enough," the woman who's name Link could not remember intervened.
It seemed like all the meetings had gone that way. Link wasn't sure why Zelda still insisted he come. It wasn't like he was of any use to her anymore. It wasn't as if anyone in her council liked, or even tolerated him. "The people do," Zelda had told him after he had voiced his frustrations. "They adore you." She did not say it aloud, but Link could hear the unsaid, 'And despise me.'
The Hero eventually made his way to his room, rather his chambers. Beth would have loved having such grandiosity, he thought. Tapestries on the wall, rugs on the floor, fine cloth covering everything in sight... He should have loved it, especially after months of sleeping on the ground, in the dirt, after years of sleeping in a straw stuffed mattress.
He wanted nothing more than to return to that life.