They shared the large bathtub; a month ago Princess Zelda would never have dreamed of being naked in anybody's company, but more and more as she was offered all the comforts of a royal residence she realised how little she had appreciated them before, and how much she had changed. She was suddenly impressed by things she had been used to all her life. The tub had to be refilled four times before Zelda and Impa were both clean. The water, almost painfully hot, worked to ease their muscles as they both lay submerged up to their necks breathing the sweet scent of the rich herbal candles lining the room. Zelda tried to take inventory of her body, something Impa had taught her to do after every mishap on their long journey, and was horrified to realise the full extent of the damage she had suffered. Her arm, only recently released from its sling, still stung at the slightest touch. The skin around the gash in her knee had healed strangely, a little twisted and pulled. Her hands and feet were in a terrible state, as were her lips, which were so dry and cracked that she felt them split further every time she ate, drank or spoke, not to mention all the weight she had lost. She ran a hand down her chest and felt each individual rib.

She found her eyes wandering over to Impa, who lay looking more relaxed than Zelda had ever seen her, head tipped back resting on the side of the tub, eyes closed. Now that her skin was clean and her hair had been returned to its natural gleaming white she looked no different than she always had. She had none of the shakes and tremors that Zelda had developed; her well-toned muscles were completely reliable, and always had been.

"You're used to travelling," she murmured. A slight ripple in the water indicated that Impa had stirred.

"It's been a long time," she replied eventually. "My last long journey was from Kakariko to Hyrule Castle, and it was a leisure-cruise compared to this. Plenty of food packed, warm clothes, camp every night…"

"Nobody wanting to kill you?"

Impa snorted. "Yes, that too. Before that the only long journeys I'd taken were from Kakariko to the desert for my training and back again."

"Why the desert?"

"Traditionally Sheikah do the first half of their training at home, then the second half and the final test with another tribe. That way our skills can spread between the families. When I trained the Gerudo and Kakariko were the only old Sheikah tribes left in Hyrule. Now the Gerudo have died out and there are only a handful of Kakariko left. If…"

"If any escaped the castle," Zelda replied. Impa looked down, and for the first time Zelda noticed that the red in her eyes was fading to a dull brown.

"The last of a dying breed," Impa muttered to herself.

The bed was unbearably soft, plump with feathers and awash with silk. She dragged the sheets onto the carpet and slept there instead. After weeks of sleeping on dirt floors and in caves it still felt like a luxury. The next morning she was so stiff she could barely move; Impa had to help her to the table to eat, and once the food was in front of her it took all of her self-control not to eat herself sick. A dress had been laid out for her. Pink. She had no idea where it had come from; all of Eilon's children were long since grown and wed. Impa laced her into it, herself wearing her Sheikah gear, and stood behind the princess when a man came bearing the king's offer to let Zelda rest and recover for another day before meeting with her. Zelda was both irked and relieved at the offer; she knew she was in no state to be handling a task of such importance, and the rest and luxury had, if anything, weakened her mind and awakened her to the pain of her body. To pass the day Impa showed her a few Sheikah training tips, ways to loosen damaged muscle and build up endurance. "During training I had to do this sequence before every meal," she said, correcting Zelda's stance.

Zelda repeated the exercise, already feeling a little better. "What will the king say?"

"Who knows? You should be as honest as you can with him, princess. Don't let him forget our treaties. Remember, Hyrule is your kingdom by right. Those oaths are owed to you."

"He has to help us."

"Kings are bound by honour. Queens, too," Impa added as an afterthought.


The King of Hyrule whirled around at the knock on his door. "Well?" He snapped impatiently as the armoured soldier knelt before him.

"My king, I bear news of-"

"Skip the formalities. Did you find her?"

Commander Akhan winced. His king was angry enough already, and on the rare occasion that he let go of his highly honed self-control there tended to be blood. Soldier or no, nobody was safe from the king's wrath.

"She crossed the border into Termina a month ago. We have a man on the main gate of Carveh ready to alert us if she enters the city. The Sheikah is still with her, we think."

"A month?"

"The patrol that found them were almost all killed by that Sheikah of hers. There was only one survivor, and travel has been hard for him with no horse and no right hand. The Sheikah bade him tell you…"

"Go on."

"'Don't get comfortable', my king. That was the message."

"And where is this lucky survivor now?"

Akhan paused. He'd risen to this level of authority because he was incredibly good at anticipating his master's orders, but now he wondered if he had acted appropriately. "He… he failed his orders, fled a battle alive and can no longer wield a sword. He was punished." He dared look up, but saw the twitch of a smile at the corner of his king's mouth.

"Good. Hang his body for a while where the men can see it. They need the warning."

"Already done, sire." There was a pause. "Do you have new orders for me?"

"Station a garrison a little way outside of Carveh. If she reaches the king they won't be able to reach her in the castle, but when she realises he won't help her…"

"Murdered on the road?"

"I told you, I want her alive. You can't get to Carveh before her, but if she leaves the city and you have the opportunity, take it. But kill the Sheikah. She's been too much trouble. In the meantime carry on searching the kingdom. There's a small chance she doubled back, and even if not… it does well to show these peasants my power."

Akhan nodded, but something held him from getting up. He hesitated long enough for his king to snap impatiently, "What?"

"I… my king, perhaps I should go."

"To track down one little girl and her nanny? No, I need you here. They're talking about rebellion. Send a garrison."

"That nanny is a Sheikah warrior," Akhan said quietly. He instantly regretted it, but the king only sighed.

"Then send two garrisons. Hylian exiles always scurry off to Termina, don't they? See if we can acquire one of our own. Go. Make arrangements."

After Akhan had left, Ganon wandered over to the table where the royal crown of Hyrule lay on a velvet cushion. As he reached out to touch he felt a twinge of pain on the back of his left hand, and glanced down at it. The burn had left a scar on his hand, standing almost white against his dark skin; the Triforce. He could have sworn in the brief moment between his touching it and the damn thing disappearing he had felt its revulsion. He'd been thrown from the Sacred Realm and the Temple of Time had sealed itself shut behind him. He'd given up trying to break through; it was sealed by more than brick and mortar. When he got the girl back she would tell him how to take its power properly. She would tell him a lot of things. She would also apologise for the trouble she had caused. On her knees. No, face down on the floor before her father's throne. He needed the world to see her submit to him. It was the only way these damn Hylians would ever follow him out of anything other than fear.

Why had she run? He traced the leaves of gold with the tip of one finger. It was the one thing he hadn't counted on. Oh, she might have tried, but there were supposed to be men come to lock her in her room as soon as the killing started. She wasn't even supposed to know about it until morning. He needed her for his trophy, a symbol of his victory, and she'd slipped through his fingers with barely a struggle. Damn Sheikah, he thought viciously. He'd killed as many as he could find, and though they weren't easy to kill he suspected there were now none left except the one trailing after Zelda. He'd met her eyes only once, a casual glance across a room. The woman had put more fierce warning into that look than he had thought possible. He shouldn't have ignored it, he thought angrily. He should have gotten rid of her first.

He hated the crown. It was all leaves and lattice in elegantly swirling gold, too soft, too damn poetic. He picked it up; it took only the barest effort to bend the soft metal until it broke. He would have it re-forged.

He smiled again. He would have the whole damn kingdom re-forged.