A/N: Thank you all once again for the kind reviews and support. You guys are truly the best!
-o0o-
When I wake, I feel like I've just slept for days on end. My rest was heavy and blessedly dreamless. I can't even remember the last time I slept so soundly. I take a deep breath, for a moment disoriented when I smell pine needles and polished leather. My memory rushes back, bringing with it sharp images from my nightmare that nearly make me shudder. But more than that, bringing Link.
I become aware of the steady heartbeat beneath my ear, and my face heats at once. Slowly, I peer upward to see his head leaned back against the headboard of the bed at a uncomfortable angle, fast asleep with his lips slightly parted. I wince sympathetically. He'll probably have a crick in his neck for the rest of the day.
Careful to not wake him, I lean back and untangle his arms from my waist. He mumbles something in his sleep, but does not stir. For a moment, I can only watch him with a feeling of overwhelming gratitude. His hair is tousled and wilder than usual, but his face is relaxed and peaceful. The sight is entirely endearing, and I feel my face warm even more.
But as I look closer, I realize there's a spot of color on his lightly stubbled jaw that looks like a bruise forming.
Without thinking, I touch it softly with the tip of my finger. Frowning, I recall hitting something with my hand when I woke up in a nightmare-induced frenzy last night. I hadn't realized that something was Link.
I step out from between his legs and onto the wooden floor as quietly as possible, and busy myself with preparing a meal before we leave. Anything to distract me from the all-too-familiar feeling bubbling in my veins.
Sunlight is just barely beginning to stream into the room from between the curtains when he wakes.
"Good morning," I hear him rasp from behind me, and I startle enough that I nearly drop the compass I'm holding. Echoing his greeting, I turn to face him shyly. He gets to his feet, rolling out his neck with a grimace. "You should have woken me when you got up," he yawns.
I have to fight to rein in my thoughts from recalling the warmth of his throat against my face, of my body being draped against his. My heartbeat stutters.
"I thought you deserved to sleep in. Besides, it is the least I can do to apologize for the rather nasty bruise I gave you," my eyes drop to the spot on his jaw as he touches it slightly with a humorous grin on his face. His eyes twinkle with mirth.
"At least I know the queen can defend herself."
I shake my head at him, amused. Gradually, though, my mood of teasing leaves, and I meet his eyes.
"Thank you, Link," I tell him sincerely. "Truly. I..." Uncertain what to say, I shake my head. "You have no clue how much it meant to me."
He gives me a tender look that makes my chest constrict. "I'm always here, Zelda. No matter what."
It sounds like a promise, a covenant. What in Hylia's name did I do to deserve Link in my life? I may never know. But for now, I am wholly grateful and forever indebted to him. But all I hope is that he upholds his promise.
Knowing him, he will.
After eating a meal and packing our things, we head out of the inn and return the key. The old man at the desk glances down at the welt on Link's jaw, and raises a curious and secretive brow. Link just rolls his eyes and shakes his head, which amuses the man to no end. I watch the whole interaction cluelessly, and blink in confusion as the man winks at me as he tells us farewell.
We leave my horse boarded at the local stable since she would struggle against the desert. I pat her goodbye, feeling sorry for leaving her idle again.
A massive part of me is sad to leave Deya Village. It's such a cheerful settlement, filled with fresh people eager to start a new life on the lakeside. Everyone here seems so free and content as they go about their affairs, so full of hope for what the day has in store. I can't help but let their enthusiasm rub off on me, and as we leave toward the desert I have a refreshed determination. One more Spring, and this time not in the bitter winter cold.
Logically, I should fear the desert more. I know it is a ruthless and barren place, and traversing it is no easy feat. Local legends tell of people that heard whispers and voices in the howling sandstorms, and became so enticed that they would walk headfirst through them. The desert would trail them in clueless circles until they disappeared or collapsed in exhaustion, only to be buried by the sands.
But at least it won't be freezing.
We stop by a small stream to fill our waterskins. Link had purchased more in Deya, and explained that there is nothing more valuable to have in the desert than water. Somehow, I have a hunch that he was speaking from experience. With plenty of water, we begin climbing the steep switchback trails up to the Gerudo Desert.
There are far fewer travelers along this path. We pass only a few souls, many of which look exhausted from their trek from the desert. Link stops a particularly worn man along the way.
"How is the weather west?"
"Well," the man drawls, grimy hands on his waist, "it ain't sandstorm season yet. But there are rumors of an early storm brewing." He shrugs. "From what I saw, it's just dry and unbearably hot as always."
Link thanks him, and we continue on our way.
"Sandstorms?" I ask. As far as I knew, sandstorms didn't afflict the desert around Arbiter's Grounds.
"Only far north and west, deep in the desert. As the man said, it's a bit early for sandstorms. But the Gerudo Desert is anything but predictable."
He glances back at my furrowed eyebrows and gives me a lopsided grin. "Just pray hard that we are fortunate enough to miss the nasty weather."
By the time we reach the desert, the air is already noticeably dry and sweltering. I feel sweat collecting along my forehead at once, and tug my hood over my face to shield from the sun. My eyes graze over the landscape, squinting against the blinding sunlight reflecting off the sand. I feel my heart sink as my eyes land on seven massive pillars rising in the north. Link follows my line of sight as well, and we're both silent and still for a moment.
"Let us be off," I say softly, breaking from my reverie. He gives a curt nod, and I follow him as he heads west as we planned this morning. We have absolutely no leads for this Spring, and no one to ask where it might await. The desert has been abandoned for centuries, and no one lives to tell of what it holds.
History tells of a seclusive race of women called the Gerudo that lived somewhere within the desert. But there was a bloody war between Hylians and Gerudo after their king, Ganondorf, was sealed and later brought to the Arbiter's Grounds for execution. Books tell of their barbaric combat, and how they seemed to throw themselves into battle like they were possessed.
I shiver, despite the heat. They sounded like frightful women. But their lack of strategy was their end, and our forces ended their culture. There are few descendants left of their race, one being Telma, a barkeep in Castletown. She certainly is feisty enough to be Gerudo, but is motherly and selfless beyond all odds.
The day drags on for what seems like forever. The sun stays longer in the sky it seems, since there are no mountains nor trees to obscure it sooner. Link and I exchange few words, likely too busy mentally cursing the heat.
Now I can't decide which one I hate more: bitter cold or blistering heat.
My calves burn from trekking through the sand, and it seems like I have to take two steps to travel the distance of one since my boots slide against the sand with each stride. But as I keep my eye on the horizon, I see no signs of sandstorms. The air is blessedly clear and still. Despite the deceptively barren sand, there are small signs of life everywhere. Small cacti rise from the dry soil in with vibrant flowers, odd reptiles and creatures scutter to and from rocks, and resilient trees with leathery leaves dot the expanse here and there. I can't help but admire their stubborn ability to thrive in such a deadly climate.
We're a ways past the Gerudo mesa when the sun settles on the horizon. The entire sky blazes amber, reflecting the color of the sand. The entire world seems to glow, and despite my exhaustion I can't help but admire it in awe. I nearly crash into Link's back from staring at the heavens when he stops. He spins around and grabs my waist to steady me as I stumble back from the sudden stop.
"We'll camp here for the night," he says, hands lingering on my waist. I nod, words failing me.
He lets go and unslings his pack from his shoulder. It feels strangely cold where his warm hands once were. I shake my head, snapping from my wandering thoughts.
For the love of Nayru, Zelda, I mentally reprimand myself. One touch shouldn't scramble your thoughts so severely.
And yet, it does.
Link unloads a pile of wood and makings for fire and settles it on a smooth red rock. The mere thought of a fire makes me sweat more. But the desert air is dry, and won't retain any of its heat once the sun slips completely behind the horizon. I know by then I will be grateful for a fire.
While he prepares the fire, I unload and make our small camp. We're up against the base of a ledge so the heat of the fire doesn't escape into the desert sky.
As I predicted, as soon as the sun disappears, the temperature drops considerably. I shiver a bit at the sudden change, and gravitate to the flames. I watch as the stars begin to appear into the sky, one by one.
Link sits beside me, leaning his back against the wall of the overhang. Though he is clearly exhausted, that hint of thrill from adventure and being out and about still buzzes in his eyes. I can't help but feel the same, the satisfaction of a long day of travel. The top of my nose stings from being exposed to the sun all day, my muscles ache, and there is probably an entire beach worth of sand in my boots—but they all tell of the distance we traveled. And this time, it's much more enjoyable with Link being able to reply to my comments and converse with me, and me being able to watch his lopsided grin when I crack an attempt at a joke.
Now we make light conversation, talking about nothing. I realize that despite the urgency of the situation and the mysterious shadow magic, I am the happiest now than I've been in years.
Link stops mid-sentence, suddenly freezing and listening closely to something. I raise an eyebrow, trying to listen to what caught his attention.
There.
There's a shuffling sound growing nearer from somewhere in the dark. I study my surroundings, waiting for my eyes to adjust. The moon hasn't risen yet, and it makes the night nearly pitch black. It sounds like someone with heavy steps, while dragging something in the sand.
In the corner of my eye, Link blanches and jumps to his feet at once.
"Zelda," he whispers curtly. "Can you summon your rapier yet?"
Slowly, I rise with him. My magic is still weak, and I can barely coax a flame from my fingers. I extend my hand outwards, trying to call to my blade. But it's exhausting, as if just trying to summon it is draining what little magic I have left.
"I am not sure if I—"
A chilling groan sounds to my left, only a few paces away, and I stumble back in surprise. Link throws me behind him at once, shielding me from whatever threat it is. I peer around his shoulder, watching in horror as a tall, mummified being shuffles into the light of the fire, dragging a massive claymore behind it.
A redead knight, I recognize at once. Link steps backward, pushing us both away. I open my hand behind my back, desperately willing my rapier to appear. Link's hand slyly snakes backward until it finds the dagger at my thigh.
"Stay outside of the reach of its sword," he whispers under his breath. Then, without another word he springs into action, yanking my dagger from its sheath and diving over the fire to deliver swift blows against the redead. I grab my bow by our packs and load an arrow at once, firing as soon as I see an opening. The skeletal monster stumbles backward slightly, but doesn't fall.
It suddenly tenses, and Link dodges backwards out of its reach. The redead releases a blood-chilling screech and I drop my bow. I crouch with my hands over my ears, trying desperately to drown out the splitting sound. Every muscle in my body seems to constrict and lock into place. Through my blurred vision, I can see the redead bracing it arm, ready to arc its blade over its head.
It stops screeching long enough to bring the sword down, and Link barely has time to roll out of the way.
Please, I plead mentally to the goddesses as I continue to call to my blade. Link resumes attacking the monster with the measly dagger, slowing it pursuit but otherwise causing little damage.
The redead coils again, and my stomach drops.
Now!
Something in the tense air snaps, and I feel my magic flood to my hand until it glows with gold light. My rapier appears from the air, spinning toward me like a windmill. The handle lands in my palm. Yes!
"Link!"
He spins to look at me just as I toss the blade to him, and he snatches it in his free hand. With the momentum, he plunges the thin blade between the redead's ribs, halting the scream about to release from its gaping mouth. Link shoves it off the rapier with his boot, and we watch in tense silence as the monster collapses to its knees with a shudder. It falls forward in a huff against the sand. The air is eerily quiet, save for Link's heavy breaths.
After a moment, Link rolls the mummified being away out of sight, and I shiver.
What other hellish things does this desert have in store?
Link is still wound tight when he reappears next to the fire, and hands me my rapier silently. I allow it to disappear out of my hand and back to the castle until we need it again. I only hope that it doesn't take so long to appear next time.
Link's eyes graze the night once, twice, looking for more threats. But I can't hear anything but an occasional crow calling in the distance. He looks upset, and he's muttering something in a furious drawl under his breath, his accent heavier than usual.
"Link; what?"
He crosses his arms and narrows his eyes as he peers through the dark. After checking again, he seems satisfied there is nothing more. He turns and begins making our beds. I arrive at his side, taking the roll from his hands and give him a pointed look.
"Is everything all right?"
Finally, he seems to realize I'm speaking to him and looks at me. He sits back on his heels, considering his words.
"Where there's one, there's always more," he says with a frown. Nervously, my eyes look out into the dark, searching for another lumbering redead. Just recalling the sound of its scream is enough to raise the hair on the back of my neck.
"I didn't see anymore, though," he follows my eyes. "Let's hope it remains that way."
I certainly hope so.
Normally, he sleeps on the other side of the fire, leaving a respectful distance between us. But tonight, he insists I sleep between him and the cliff wall.
"You'll be safer," he says gently after apologizing for taking up my space. I give him a tiny, closed-mouth smile that seems to surprise him into silence.
"I feel safer when you are close," I reply quietly, recalling the previous night when I slept so peacefully in his arms. I'm grateful for the dark cover of night as I feel the tips of my ears redden. After glancing at my lips, he shakes from his surprise and gives me a relieved smile. I know I'm not the only one that finds comfort in this accommodation. My safety means much to him.
But that night, in all odds against my exhausted body, I can't fall asleep. Everytime I close my eyes, I see glimpses of the countless nightmares I've had the past three years. It almost seems as though my mind awaits for me to fall asleep so it can resurface all the dark things of the past that I've stubbornly shoved to the back of my mind, determined to ignore them. So I stare at the stars above, me trying to find comfort in their twinkling and in Link's presence only an arm's reach away with his back facing me.
I sigh. Sleep is essential to be able to keep up with the travel during the day. I count the days mentally. We have little over a week before my presence is required back at the castle. Hylia knows how far we will have to venture into the desert, so it may take an entire week to to travel back out of it. And there's no telling how long it will take to even find the Spring.
I only hope that the goddesses allow us some more luck to find Din's monument. Just one more.
My eyes wander past Link's head to the fire. The flames are burning low, and the wood is blackened and charred. The sight brings unbidden memories of last night's nightmare, of Deya's charming homes charred from war and fires. At once, I roll back onto my back, trying to force the thought from my mind.
They're getting worse, I observe silently. Back at the castle, I've suffered nightmares on many occasions that led to sleepless nights, huddled in front of my bedchamber's hearth, sipping tea in a poor attempt to calm my nerves and erase the images. But now, after the shadow magic removed the strength of my powers, they are much more frequent and lucid as though the protection of my light magic is no longer there to stifle the horrors.
Another shaky breath escapes my lips.
"I get them too."
Link's gentle voice nearly makes me flinch in surprise. He doesn't turn to face me, and I watch his back as it rises and falls with steady breaths.
"All too often."
My heart twinges with empathy, and I resist the urge to reach out to him, to hold onto him like last night.
"What do you do?" My voice is small. He always seems so strong and courageous; it's difficult to imagine him being dampened by nightmares. But I would be a fool to miss the haunted undertone of his hushed voice.
Now he does turn until he's also laying on his back, eyes trained on the sky thoughtfully. In the light, they're so dark in color that they remind me of an ocean during a storm.
"I write them down. And given the chance, I tell my fellowmen. They've seen traumatizing things just as I have, and they understand." There's something hanging unsaid. I understand; that's why you can tell me, Zelda.
"Will they ever go away?" I hate how weak and vulnerable my words sound. But he looks at me now, a sad smile playing on his lips.
"No, but they will fade. You'll learn to use them to become stronger."
I'm quiet for a long moment, swallowing against the lump in my throat.
"I am afraid," I admit, whispering as though my words will bring accusation from the heavens if I speak too loudly.
How are you fit to guide a kingdom when you yourself are lost?
"I am afraid of breaking beyond repair," I say.
His hand finds mine, and he intertwines our fingers. His calloused palm presses firmly against mine, spreading warmth up my arm. He turns his head fully now, watching my face closely with soft eyes.
"No," he replies. "You're too strong."
I say nothing, looking back to the stars. I don't tell him he's wrong, that I'm so fragile that I'll break anytime now. I don't tell him that there will be nothing left. Instead I hold onto his hand tightly, using his strength to anchor me in the wild storm.
As I sleep, my mind allows me a night absent of dreams.
—
LINK
My eyes burn as soon as I wake from the few hours of sleep I managed last night. Zelda's bed is already rolled up and packed away and is currently warming up food at the fire. She hums a soft tune as she works, oblivious and cheerful. I close my eyes again, smiling slightly. I had spent a better part of the night worrying over her, unable to look away from her sleeping face in case her nightmares surfaced again. But she slept in peace, her beautiful features relaxed and nose slightly pink from the cool air.
Zelda stops humming.
"Having pleasant dreams?" She teases upon seeing me smiling with my eyes closed.
"Simply happy to wake up to a such beautiful sound," I look up at her through my lashes to see her turn away in charming embarrassment. I get up and put away my bed things, trying to fight the fatigue weighing my body. There's no doubt that I'll sleep soundly tonight.
After a quick meal, we pack up camp and climb our way up a shorter section overhang we spent the night next to. With that, we continue on our grueling path westward, the hot sun at our backs. Zelda walks by my side today, pointing out little creatures scuttling through the sand and hawks circling in the sky. Her pale eyes are bright and intrigued as she watches our surroundings. I can't help but smile along to her interest. She can find beauty and life in even the barren Gerudo Desert.
We wind our way through the tall dunes. The desert is different here; there are few ravines and rock formations. All the sand is loose and fine, stacked into rippled piles that seem nearly as tall as the trees in Faron Woods.
Not far into the day, I become exhausted from climbing on the sand. Couldn't the goddesses have their Springs built in more convenient areas?
We stop under a lonely palm tree for lunch, sipping on water. Zelda's nose and skin of her collar bones are already burned again, and I tell her she we'll need to find some salve in Deya before she ruins her skin anymore.
She shrugs, uncaring. "Perhaps I will be as tan as you by the time we return to the castle."
"Doubt it," I grin at her over my waterskin. "If anything, you'll look like Lady Jera when she gets angry." The foppish woman makes a frequent appearance at court, and is known for her short temper. But her round face always turns a bright red as an apple when she gets worked up.
Zelda blinks in surprise. "That would be rather unfortunate," she presses the back of her hand to her lips as she tries to conceal her grin. I smile at her, gently prying her hand away from her face.
"Why do you do that?" I ask her curiously.
"What?" She looks cluelessly between my face and our hands. "Oh. I am not sure," she admits shyly. Nervous habit, I assume. It's undeniably adorable, but it also hides her smile.
Which I'd much rather see.
My thoughts return to the night she had woken in a panicked frenzy from night terrors, and the look of pure agony on her face when her eyes opened. What is so mortifying in her memories that causes her such dreams and trauma? Is it the same reason why she conceals her emotions? No matter how much I seem to ask her to tell me what is wrong, she refuses.
Her smile has long since faded now, and I realize I'm still holding her hand in my own.
I release her hand, looking around the dunes in an attempt to distract from my thoughts. She follows my line of sight with a masked expression as always.
"Where do you think this Spring will be?" I can't keep the incredulous tone out of my voice. Every dune looks the same, and everywhere I turn looks just like everything else.
"I wish I knew," she sighs.
"Well, I guess all we can do is keep moving forward."
But I feel as though we're aimlessly wandering, and we'll get lost and disappear into the sands like the local folks say. In the small portion of the Gerudo Desert I traversed, I learned it to be a merciless expanse filled with a number of horrors. Leevers seemed to infest every inch of sand. No matter how much I expect to see some now, however, they seem to be absent. Hyrule overall has been much more clean of monsters after the invasion—thank the goddesses. Running into a redead knight yesterday was a rather unpleasant surprise. I only hope there won't be anymore surprises as we wander the deeper into the desert.
Zelda turns to look at one of the massive dunes beside us thoughtfully.
"Perhaps we will see something if we reach higher ground." With that, she throws her pack over she shoulders and clambers her way up the dune. I follow behind her, cursing the sand as it slides and gives way under my feet with each step. We practically have to climb on our hands and knees to get to the top.
"Farore above," Zelda breathes once we stand on the dune. I look at our surroundings, seeing an impressive landscape of massive dunes that extend as far as my eyes can see. They surround us completely, and I feel a frightening feeling of isolation. I can't imagine trying to travel this desert alone.
"There," Zelda points northwest, and I follow her finger. It takes me a moment to figure out what she is pointing at but then I see it. There's a flatter expanse of sand, where the dunes seem to have been squashed down and smoothed. Just barely, I can see a spec of something on the horizon on the flat plane.
"It could be anything," I point out.
"But it is better than nothing."
So we set off northwest toward the flat sand. It will take another day—maybe two—to arrive at the plane, and even more to reach whatever it was on the horizon. But Zelda and I walk with determination, and I press through the exhaustion that seems to fog my mind. The blazing heat certainly doesn't help.
-o0o-
The sun begins to bow low into the sky, casting the world in rich colors. The dunes seem to stretch on forever, and our surroundings still look the same as they did hours before. If I didn't know better, I would think that we were trailing in circles. But still, I check our compass every so often to ensure we are, in fact, heading in the correct direction.
The sky deepens to a rosy color, telling of the end of the day soon to come.
"Zelda," I call. She's a few steps ahead of me, walking like she's in a trance. "I think we should stop and camp for the night. It's getting late." She doesn't stop, and presses forward as though she didn't hear me. "Zelda."
"Just a bit farther," she calls back. "I think we are getting close."
I sigh, and jog to catch up to her. "We can't be certain how much farther the plane is. Let's stop now."
She just shakes her head, leading us around a dune. On the other side awaits another one. I speed up, reaching out to her as we round the next one. My fingers stop in mid air as I see the dunes here noticeably smaller. Zelda glances at me over her shoulder, giving me a look that practically says, See?
"My stubborn queen," I mutter, and she turns away. Before long, the dunes flatten until only small ripples in sand spot the endless expanse. Zelda finally slows to a stop, gazing over the landscape. In the distance, I can see the spot that we had seen at noon. I squint, making out the faint shape of trees.
"It looks like an oasis," Zelda points out.
"We are not marching to it in the dark."
She looks at me, feigning exasperation. "Ah, fine."
It isn't the ideal place to camp, I realize as I unload. It's out in the open, not protected against a small cliff wall. But I suppose I'll be able to see the enemy out in the open just as it can see us, so we have an equal disadvantage.
We used up what little firewood we had last night, so the chill is much harsher without a fire as the sun falls behind the horizon and sends us into subdued light. Zelda checks over our rations and water levels, cataloguing the numbers in her head. We unload our meager bedding, spreading it out against the sand.
Cheerfully tired, we chat as we set up, talking teasingly about the luxuries of castle life.
"I won't lie," I say as I settle into my bed roll, "I do miss my bed."
"I miss having easy access to a bath," Zelda replies, wrinkling her nose as she rebraids her hair. Though it's hard to tell in the growing dark, her hair looks like it's a shade lighter from all the sand and days spent in the sunlight. The lighter streaks of chestnut are even more prominent now against the rest of her dark hair.
"And fresh meals."
"And bedding that isn't filled with sand."
We both share an amused look. She lies down on her roll, eyes trained on the star-speckled sky stretched above us. The lack of trees and obscurities make the sky seem even more massive than usual, and the stars gleam like the summer fireflies in Ordon.
"But it is all worth it for this view," Zelda whispers reverently to the sky. My eyes don't leave her face, watching how her eyes reflect the starlight and how the corners of her delicate lips quirk slightly upward.
"Yes, it is," I agree softly.
We both lapse into silence, and I turn away. You need to stop doing that, I curse myself. Or else you'll do something rash. Like kiss those delicate lips. Though, the notion is enticing. What is the penalty for kissing the queen? I suppose I wouldn't mind finding out.
But I can't assume she requits my love. The thought makes my heart ache with disappointment. She's impossible to read, so complexed and layered that I may never know where her emotions lay. But some foolish, boyish hope within me pleads the heavens that she loves me back.
I close my eyes as I recall the other night for the hundredth time, how she had held desperately onto me, like she was trying not to drown. I can practically feel her small form against mine, breaths shuddering against my chest as she tried to forget whatever nightmare had plagued her sleep. After she had drifted off, I had watched her sleeping face sadly, hurting for her. She has built and fortified walls against others with such vigor that it's impossible to penetrate, impossible to convince her that I can help her stay afloat.
My eyes blink back open in surprise as I feel a small hand slide into mine, and I peer over at Zelda. She's looking at our hands, refusing to meet my eyes.
"For safety," she whispers.
For safety against her own mind. Her mind that reminds mercilessly her of the dark things of the past as she sleeps. I squeeze her fingers back reassuringly. This I can manage. Whatever comfort she seeks, I will provide.