A/N: This chapter was revised as of 5/18/2019 - Polished, minor errors and typos fixed.
When Heroes Fall
By: Selphie Kinneas 175
Chapter 14: Flawed
.:.
"Where is Ren!"
The inn went quiet. The princess of Hyrule stood at the top of the stairs, a single bead of sweat trailing down her temple. Those down below stopped whatever it was they were doing, staring in worried silence up at Emeline.
"Where is he?" she burst again.
A few of them exchanged glances before Zelda at last responded to her daughter.
"He and Ashei left this morning for Castle Town, as we discussed yesterday."
Emeline hefted up the skirt of her borrowed white dress and bounded down the steps, "He is not safe. Someone must retrieve him."
Colin stepped forward protectively, "Why? Did you see something?"
Emeline still descended, "Father intended to inspire a rescue attempt. Planted fewer guards and lessened their patrols to bait us to come to the hero's aid."
Zelda's face turned to stone. Her almond eyes glazed over; she should have known. Colin's gaze dropped to his sandals, momentarily unable to find any words. Rusl scratched the stubble on his chin and spoke up in the absence of voices.
"Are you sure? That seems like a half-baked plan. Fewer guards means it's easier to get in, sure, but also easier to get out. What would keep Link from escaping?" Rusl debated, still just slightly skeptical of the princess' sight.
"He is injured," Emeline explained.
"That's never stopped him before," Rusl said.
Emeline ignored the older man and approached his son instead. She pinpointed him by his overwhelming worry in the bright shade of sunflowers. "Please," she begged, her voice small, "Do not let my father harm him. Will you go to him? See that he gets back here safely?"
Colin's navy eyes narrowed only briefly before nodding and opening his mouth to immediately accept, his worry for his nephew just as equal. Shad, however, cut him off.
"I do not believe it would be wise..."
Colin sighed, "You always say it's not wise to go save someone. What are we all doing here, then?"
"He is right, Colin," Zelda exhaled just the same, "I wish for Ren's safety as much as all of you, but if more of us were to go to him now, it would only play into Viscen's plan. He clearly wanted us to come to Link's rescue. We cannot seek a battle we cannot win until we are ready, until we have devised a strategy."
"Ugh," Colin grunted, "That's all well and fine and may be the smart move, but I can't sit here knowing something is going to happen to Ren." The Ordonian grabbed his things from beside the door and went for the handle, "If someone wants to join me, I would welcome the company."
Rusl did not hesitate, "Let's go, my boy."
"Please," Zelda called just as they opened the door, an ungloved hand outstretched toward them, "Do not be rash."
Colin looked at her a moment before replying with a smirk, "We won't," and he closed the door behind them.
The queen clutched a hand to her heart as they left, bunching up the pale blue fabric of Luda's spare dress that she wore. She and Shad exchanged glances. She sent a prayer up to the goddesses that they would all make it home safely, that her husband wouldn't do whatever it was her daughter saw in him, what she feared she had seen in him for years. Emeline felt her mother's plea and grabbed her hand.
"I wouldn't ask it of them if I saw another way," the princess consoled, trying to land smoke-filled irises on her mother's face.
Zelda smiled a sad smile down at her. She knew her daughter meant well, but she worried she was still learning her power, that there were things she could potentially miss or misinterpret. She was also concerned her feelings for the hero's son got in the way.
She prayed her doubt was misplaced.
Far away, Link lost all concept of time.
His dark solitude did not permit days or nights, minutes or hours, simply agonizing present that went on and on. He came and went from a pathetic state of sleep that was nothing more than exhausted unconsciousness.
He felt his stomach turn in on itself in hunger, his skin pale from blood loss, and his throat exsiccate from dehydration. He could feel the infection spreading from the arrow in his chest like wriggling worms through his veins. He wanted to give up and let the fates take him at last, but there was a bigger part of him that simply wouldn't allow it.
He still had no idea if he had truly seen Ren or if he had dreamt it. Either way, he didn't like the thought of his loved ones not only worrying about him, but plotting to come to his aid. There was so much at risk – he wished he could tell dream Ren or real Ren, whichever it was, that this was his own battle, no one else's. Viscen wouldn't let him die anyway, he still needed him. After the king got what he wanted, however, his fate beyond that was a mystery.
His left hand still bled profusely, and when he looked over at it he got an idea. He tugged his hand against the metal of his confines just slightly, the contact with his skinless flesh burning something awful. He tucked his thumb under his palm as much as he could, made his hand as small as possible, and slowly wiggled it back and forth. The copious amounts of blood, he thought, may act as a lubricant and let him slip his hand right out.
"Trying to escape, huh?"
The voice made his heart jump. But when he looked up he saw Midna.
He sighed in some form of relief and annoyance mixed together and returned to his task.
"That's pretty stupid," she mocked, "You could get that hand out, sure, but what about the other one? And these bars?"
He ignored her. Over the years it hadn't gotten any easier, but he shut out the ghost as best he could.
She grasped her sides then and laughed whole-heartedly, "You are so dumb! Oh my goodness, I can't breathe," she doubled over in fits of hysterics, "For Din's sake, wow. You are the dumbest. Here's your reward!"
He glanced up at her. She was holding her hands out, but there was nothing in them.
"That's right! A big, fat pile of nothing. Because you're stupid."
He shook his head and continued yanking on his hand.
"You've seriously learned nothing. Guess your 'greatness' really was just a reflection of your company back then," she sneered.
He grew more agitated, "Would you just leave me alone?"
"Hah!" she chortled, "Leave you alone? I did. Look what outcome that had."
He huffed and tried his best to go back to ignoring her and freeing his hand, but she saw to that quickly.
"Still trying that, huh?" she folded her arms over her chest, a condescending look on her impish features, "Not gonna work. Stupid, stupid wolf."
"Leave me alone," Link uttered through gritted teeth.
It was silent then. He turned around and she was gone. Just as he was about to resume his work, he heard a footstep in the dark. He could tell just by the light frivolity of the sound that it was company he did not want.
"Talking to yourself, hero?"
Viscen's sly grin illuminated the dim corridor.
"Sneaking up on me, Your Majesty?" Link slowly stopped moving his hand and asked coyly, referring to the king's lack of a light source.
"Ah," Viscen smiled, "Just checking to ensure our most honored guest is behaving himself."
The king entered the cell and examined the hero's hand with a contemplative look, but he said nothing about it. They stared in silence a moment. Viscen was entranced by the willpower of the hero. Link just wished he would leave.
Link's pained cough broke the eerie quiet. Tiny droplets of blood splattered on the ground at their feet.
"You seem to be faring well," the king taunted.
Link did not look at him or say anything. The agony in his chest grew and grew as the uncounted time dragged on. It spread throughout his whole body like wildfire.
Viscen studied him long and hard. How he held on. How he fought with nothing left. How did he do it? The king was constantly intrigued. It was almost admiration, but he would never word it that way. He just couldn't believe the hero hadn't begged for mercy yet. Maybe he was as all the stories made him to be.
"Why don't we go ahead and remove that pesky little arrow for you, hm?" Viscen offered coolly.
How long had it been since his last visit? Link glanced up at the king, then back down – it didn't matter.
Viscen approached the hero and withdrew his knife. He knelt before him and pointed the steel towards him. Link held his breath, not certain of exactly what he would do but only sure he would not kill him. He only allowed him to continue because he knew the arrow had to come out lest it claim him - it was just unfortunate that Viscen was his only option. He flinched when the king quickly sliced open the hero's dirty, ivory shirt just off center, over his arrow wound. Link recoiled at the bitter bite of the cold on his skin, shivering as his vulnerable middle was exposed.
Viscen was greeted with a chest and abdomen laden with scars. Some looked new, most looked quite old, but there were so many it would take quite some time to even count them all. Some looked small and harmless, others were so massive he wasn't even sure how he'd survived. He saw burns, both from electricity and from flames. He saw marks that appeared not from weapons, but from beasts. He also saw marks that were from weapons, from every kind of killing device he was aware of, and some he wasn't. Arrows, swords, knives, hands. He saw countless old wounds, countless old pains and agonies. To the king, it was countless defeats. To the king, it showed sloppiness.
"How careless," Viscen muttered under his breath.
Link did not look at him.
The king pressed his knife to a horizontal scar along the hero's left side. He traced the steel along the old slash, watching as Link breathed deep and slow before him.
"What struck you here?" Viscen asked, his voice was strangely low and exceptionally mischievous.
Link did not say anything.
Viscen pressed more firmly, just enough to draw tiny beads of blood. Link's breathing did not falter, so he pressed just that much more.
The hero winced and recalled the injury with ease, "The king of the bulblins."
He was brought back to all those years ago when he had rescued Colin from the beast that would turn out to be a valuable ally. He had promised the children he would protect them. He would try, and he would fail. Try, and fail. He would try again and again and again.
"Hm," Viscen hummed, seemingly captivated.
He moved his knife to a series of puncture wounds scattered around his guest's middle, "And here?"
Link inhaled, keeping himself calm as the king again drew blood, "A deku baba bite."
It was the first time he had been really hurt. What a twisted path he had started down. A web of agony, a maze of suffering he would not see the end of in his lifetime. He would enter it again and again and again.
"One looks different than the rest," the king surmised.
"The..." he paused, unsure if the mention of the dead tyrant would spark any conflict, "Usurper king of twilight."
It felt like an eon ago. He had stepped in front of the dagger. He did it to save her. He would do it again and again and again.
Viscen's eyes grew slightly wide in fascination, "I see."
The king slowly traced connecting lines between several wounds that all looked relatively the same, a wound the monarch had seen before.
"It seems you and arrows are quite attracted to one another."
Link did not say anything.
"One... two..." Viscen counted them, making sure a dot of blood withdrew from each before moving on, "three... four... five..." He paused there, lingering on the last one, "Five. My, my, how careless."
Link focused on breathing.
He wouldn't mention that he'd harbored more in other places. He'd taken one to his leg from a bulblin in the hellish fire temple, and one to his arm while defending Kakariko. There were many, but he remembered every single one. One while escorting Ilia and the zora prince. Two while traversing the desert. One while storming the castle to face Ganondorf. And finally, one from a mad king's followers. The pain, the learning, the betterment. The pain, the learning, the betterment. He would keep trying to be better, but he made no promises.
Viscen methodically traced up to his captive's hairline. With the steel he brushed his matted hair back, revealing a long cut that just barely poked out otherwise.
"I imagine this would have knocked you unconscious," the king whispered.
Link huffed in annoyance, finally looking up and meeting his gaze, "What purpose does this serve?"
Viscen ignored his question, "What great beast got you here, hm?"
Link's stare did not waver, neither did the king's. When Viscen pressed just a bit, Link answered.
"Ganondorf."
It had sent him tumbling off of Epona. It rattled his brain and spun the landscape. He only remembered rushing to shield the princess. He would shield her again and again and again.
"Ahh, the great king of evil," Viscen mused, "Was he as powerful and terrifying as they say?"
Link looked deep into the king's curious eyes, narrowing his own in contemplation. The man's expression was full of wonder and curious intrigue. Viscen's disconcerting interest confused Link – what did he care of his battle scars? Of Ganondorf? The longer he stared, the less he understood. Did he want to pick up where the gerudo king left off? Link would see to that quickly.
"He was much more powerful and terrifying than you."
Of all days filled with strife and suffering he could recall the day he faced off against the timeless horror with simplest ease. Fear had never been such a physical entity. A demon in and of itself manifested. A monster from nightmares made much too big. Fear had gripped him that day like it had yet to before or since.
The cell was quiet for a moment, their eyes locked in quiet speculation. At last, the king laughed. He threw his head back and laughed without abandon. Link watched with puzzled skepticism.
"I do not desire to be powerful and terrifying, hero!" his clamor quieted to a chuckle, "How rudimentary."
Link remained quiet – he didn't care what the king desired.
Viscen could tell, but he didn't care that he didn't care.
"I rule by giving the people exactly what they want, and they adore me in return," his smile was weirdly sinister, "I do not want their fear. I do, however, want yours."
At that, Link laughed. It was inaudible and breathy, but it was there.
"Do I amuse you?" Viscen asked calmly.
Link returned his gaze with a straight face, "Yes."
The king's lip snarled, but he suppressed it quickly, "Is fear such a trivial thing to you?"
Link just stared for a moment. Where was this sudden interest in his life coming from? He didn't like it, but he strangely felt compelled to answer.
"I spent my entire childhood in fear. The twilight, all of that. I don't... feel much anymore."
Viscen eyed him quizzically, "I see."
The king turned his gaze toward the scar that had first caught his attention, but had saved it for last. He placed his knife at the tip of it. It started small at the hero's left shoulder, as it reached his chest it bloomed outward so many inches the king was shocked his organs hadn't toppled out upon infliction. It tapered off at the hero's right hip bone, taking up his entire torso with a single strike.
Link knew the scar he followed without needing to look. It was the one that had nearly claimed him. It was the one that took him to see the golden goddesses and speak with the hero of time. It was the one he carried with him the heaviest, and the proudest.
"Ganondorf," Link said as soon as he heard the king's lips part to ask it.
It was the closest he and death had ever come. It was the most powerless he had ever felt, the most afraid, and yet, the most courageous. It was the turning point, an end and a beginning. The beginning of an end, or, perhaps, the end of a beginning. It, along with everything that came before and everything that came after, changed him. He was never again the same.
Viscen scrutinized it, scrutinized all of it.
"How stupid," the king whispered at length.
Link looked at him, but Viscen did not reciprocate.
"How careless... How absolutely asinine," he muttered, his voice growing louder. "How stupid!"
Link merely watched as the king's temper rose. How he could go from calm and collected to boiling over disturbed the hero.
"Why should the goddesses favor you? Why should they give their power to someone so positively stupid!"
Link wanted to laugh, thinking for a moment what a kick Midna would get out of hearing it. He refrained, doing naught but meeting the mad king's glare with one of composure.
When in the blink of an eye the king thrust his dagger into the hero's forearm, Link's heart started racing.
"How stupid!" Viscen screamed, twisting the knife between the hero's twin bones in his left arm, "Why should someone like you get all the glory while people like me are left to struggle! I who work so hard for my people!" he yanked the knife out and plunged it again, "I who lead my kingdom to prosperity!" and again, "I who selflessly give to a world who cares not for me!" and again, "I who struggle to prove my worth to a family who discarded me!" and again, "I who possess all traits the goddesses deem worthy, yet receive no praise!" and again, "Yet you..."
Link writhed beneath his touch, clenching his teeth and biting so hard into his tongue it nearly bled just the same. His arm was on fire. Every vein, every muscle, every bone was alight within his flesh. He couldn't feel his hand, couldn't move his fingers. He breathed hard and rasped loudly. Viscen leaned in so close he could hear the hero's muted whimpers.
"You would be blessed by the damned gods. You!" he twisted the knife and leaned even closer, "You who have more scars than victories! You who somehow remember every pathetic failure, every pathetic instance in which you lost! You- AGH!"
Link had enough. He didn't care that his head already pounded like thunder between his ears, he rammed his forehead against the king's face with all his strength, sending him tumbling backwards with a grunt of pain.
"I remember each one because I learned from them! Just as you will learn from that one," Link spat through pained breaths, "Do not threaten me, Your Majesty."
Viscen held his bloody nose, staring daggers at the hero who would dare stare them right back at him. His world spun, as did Link's, but neither would let the other know that. When the king's surroundings at last stood still, he picked up his blade and got to his feet, fume billowing out of his ears.
"You wretched excuse for a hero," Viscen seethed, sauntering closer, blood trickling from his flared nostrils, "I ought to cleave that so-called courageous heart from your chest for attacking your king."
Link's face was stone; his threat did not faze him, "Go on, then."
Viscen's lip snarled unabashedly, and in an instant he sprung at the hero.
Link thrust his foot out at the king's chest, leaning against the wall behind him to support himself and push against Viscen with all he had in him. Viscen swung his dagger wildly, and Link reacted quickly when he saw him wind his arm back preparing to stab him in the leg. Link wrapped his good hand around the chain that bound it, holding all of his weight there as he swung his free leg at Viscen's armed hand. The king grunted in agitation as his knife clanked to the ground, and in a flash he lunged forward and yanked the arrow from Link's chest.
Link groaned loudly in pain. He slammed his eyes shut and grimaced, writhing against his chains in an attempt to staunch his wound to no avail. He slunk back down to his knees and heaved laboriously. Viscen stood above him and smiled fiercely.
Just as the king bent over to retrieve his knife, someone jumped onto his back.
"Leave him alone!" the voice yelled, smaller arms wrapped tightly around Viscen's neck.
Link looked up through blurry vision. Viscen stumbled and staggered around the cell, gagging as a much lighter form clung to his back and choked him out. Link squinted to make it out, and he didn't recognize his own voice when he spoke.
"Ren?"
The boy looked over his shoulder at him and smiled. Viscen felt the momentary weakness and reached his hand back to the intruder. He grabbed the pest by a fistful of his white Ordonian shirt and thrust him to the ground with all his might.
"Get off, you miserable rat!"
Ren hit the floor hard. Link gasped through wheezes and grumbles. For a moment, Ren couldn't breathe. The wind flew right out of his lungs and the sensation panicked him. Viscen could see it on his young face.
The king turned briefly to Link, "It appears we have a new guest!" He didn't look at all surprised. It made Link's stomach turn.
Viscen leaned in close to Ren's face, yanked him up to meet him by the collar and smirked, "Took you quite long enough."
Ren's voice hung in his throat – what did that mean?
Viscen did naught but stare into the boy's frightened eyes. Ren was afraid, he wasn't too proud to admit it. He had no idea what he was doing when he barged in here, but he saw his father being hurt and he just jumped into action without thinking. He could hear the queen and princess voicing their worries in his head should the king find him. They told him Viscen would not spare him, would harm him or do whatever he wanted to get Link to do his bidding. He didn't know if they were right or not, but he was scared. He wondered if Emeline could see him right now.
At last, Viscen smiled. The sinister sneer made Ren's heart beat uncomfortably. It terrified him even more. He tried to calm himself, to slow his breaths and steady his heart, but he couldn't. He feared the king could sense the panic radiating off of him like a poison.
Viscen dropped Ren and turned to Link, "What a pleasant surprise, wouldn't you say, hero?"
Link looked up at him but remained quiet. He panted hard, shoving the agony under the rug.
"Why, what a courageous boy! To come to the aid of his dear, old dad," the king monologued, and Link, too, grew nervous, "Why, it is such a pity that I only have room for one guest."
The hero cast a quick glance at his son, seeing the apprehension painted across his face clear as day. Link returned to the king's malicious eyes, fearful that if he did not react exactly as Viscen wanted that he would do something he could not fix.
"You have such a glaring weakness, hero. Such a massive, red target plastered across your chest for all to see," Viscen paused for dramatic effect, ever the actor, "Your loved ones are your weakness. All they ever do is place you in precarious situations! In difficult positions! No one should have to choose between their own life and the life of another."
The king opened his mouth to continue, but the most subtle twitch of his fingers on the handle of the blade at his side showed Link all he needed to know.
"Ren, go!"
Link's sudden rasp jolted Ren to his feet and he rushed for the opening. Viscen grabbed the boy's arm at the last second and whirled him around so he faced his father. The king clutched Ren's wrist at his back, holding his body stiff in front of his own with his knife to his victim's neck.
"What a sly little gutter rat," Viscen muttered in Ren's ear to which he wriggled against the king's touch.
Link glared at Viscen with bated breath. His anger grew, but his worry was much stronger. He looked at Ren and he could feel his fear like he could feel the cold. His eyes spoke volumes and he saw Ilia there. It sent a burst of pain through his heart and he looked away momentarily. He could still feel his pleading gaze on his face. It bore through his skin like venom. Ilia... Oh, how he had let her down.
"Don't you see..." Viscen hissed, "How much better off you would be without so much baggage?"
Link still avoided the scene before him until the voice in his head would no longer allow him to. He heard Ilia berate him. He heard Midna make fun of him. He heard that annoying part of himself that would never let him sit out for long.
The hero turned and met the king's intimidating stare with his own. His eyes did not leave Viscen's, not even to mutely reassure his son that everything would be alright. He couldn't let the king see what he felt.
To his dismay, he already did.
"Is that fear I sense from you, hero?" Viscen almost whispered, clutching Ren tighter, "Have I finally made you feel something?"
Link stared, knowing that what he said next would decide the king's actions. He wanted to glance at his son but he couldn't - he couldn't let Viscen see that fear, that uncertainty. His gaze, unfaltering, unblinking, did not waver. He saw Viscen's intrigue, his gleeful victory, his selfish curiosity. He was predictably unpredictable; Link had to just guess at what would be the right thing to say.
"Do not harm him... please," Link muttered, the pain in his body not permitting him to sound strong though he tried.
Viscen beamed, "You do feel something."
Link felt nauseous – he'd answered wrong.
He broke the king's glare and looked at last into Ren's eyes. Ren was terrified. The boy had no idea if he should do something or not. Say something? Nothing? Anything? If he begged for release would he grant it, or would he silence him before he could utter the sentence? If he squirmed free would he congratulate his strength, or would he cut him down for trying? He was sure that, at this point, no matter what he did or did not do it would be the wrong thing.
He prayed Emeline wasn't watching.
Viscen watched the hero's expression for just enough time. Then, without warning, he spun Ren around towards himself. He thrust the boy against the wall, shoved a hand over his mouth, and jammed his knife into his stomach in a single motion.
Ren yelped behind the king's palm. Link's breath sat stationary in his chest. Viscen smiled.
The king relished in the moment before brutally yanking his dagger free. Ren looked at his father, lashes laden with tears. Link stared back with eyes wide and jaw dropped. Ren tumbled to the floor and Link looked at Viscen with fury-dipped irises.
"How dare you touch him," Link growled, his voice hoarse and low as he straightened up.
Viscen sauntered over to him with a gleam in his eye, "There's that feeling I wanted to see. Relish it."
Link glared at him but was done with the word games, "Come here."
The king laughed, "Whatever for? Do you intend to strike me with both hands bound? Kill me just as I have killed your pathetic boy as you sit in chains?"
Viscen threw his head back in fits of hysterics - it only fanned the fire in Link's chest.
"Why not find out? Or are you afraid?" Link dared.
Viscen quieted down with a scowl. Link knew he couldn't resist a challenge against his mettle, but the king had a speech prepared just as he expected.
"You are something, hero. Why, I just helped you! I removed that tumor, that leech draining your being with constant worry," Viscen spoke as if he was giving an address, but he did lean in close at the end, just as Link requested, "I helped you. You should be thank-"
Link kneed Viscen hard on the underside of his jaw as soon as he was close enough. He heard an audible pop as he staggered away. Link knew the king would come back swinging, so he got to his feet as best as he could, struggling with his hands restricted to short chains low behind him. It was an awkward position and did not allow him much strength or movement, but he had it figured out.
"You filth!" Viscen roared in anger, rubbing his jaw momentarily before lunging at the hero.
Link hooked his right foot around the king's leg and came down hard on the backside of his knee. He groaned in pain as he fell to his knees and doubled forward, just close enough so that Link could reach his right hand out and grasp Viscen's throat. The king gasped and gargled, but Link's foot kept him pinned down and the grip on his throat was powerful.
The hero leaned in close to him, "I warned you not to threaten me. A threat to my family is a threat to me."
Link's voice was gruff and menacing. He spoke through gritted teeth and the intense hatred brought heat to his face. He watched the king struggle beneath his intense grip, thinking he would let go at the last second, but when he saw Ren lying there motionless, he kept holding on. Viscen looked up at him, his eyes drooping as he clawed at Link's hand, but Link didn't care. He held tighter and tighter and tighter. He had so much anger, so much frustration, so much everything.
He squeezed until at last, the king squirmed no more.
Link watched his eyes roll back into his head and he dropped him. His body tumbled to the floor and Link kicked his lower half farther away. He slumped back down in mind-boggling agony. For a moment he couldn't think. The adrenaline was leaving him and the rest was a battle he knew he would soon lose. He returned to his knees and looked through slowly-blurring vision at the form of his son.
"Ren?" Link called.
Ren was still alive. He turned his head and looked at his father. He lay on his back, blood pooling up in his middle. He held his hands to his stomach and tears flowed freely down his face.
"I-I'm scared," Ren whispered.
Link looked at him, it was all he could do. He was sure Ilia hated him for how useless he had been in their son's life – he knew he hated himself for it. In Ren's blue eyes he saw immense pain and fear. This wasn't Ren's life, this was his own life. He should have never even allowed his son to get this close to him. After he sent them away in the desert he should have just stayed there. But he was selfish, and he wanted the twilight crystal, so he chased him down and inadvertently involved him.
He was stupid. He hated himself for it.
Ren looked down at himself, and when he saw his own blood his face blanched.
"O-Oh no-no... N-no..." Ren stammered.
Link remembered the first time he saw his own blood in such quantities. It wasn't something Ren should have ever had to experience.
"Look at me..." Link spoke softly and calmly.
Ren trembled, but obliged.
"Focus on breathing with me..."
His father's voice was gentler than he had ever heard before. Ren stared at him but could not find that inner calm like he could.
"It hurts," Ren whimpered and was not ashamed to openly cry as his mind wandered further, "I-I don't want to die..."
Link inhaled deeply and exhaled twice as slow, "You won't. You're okay..."
He didn't know if it was a lie or not. He could barely see through his dimming vision but he could feel the heaviness, could smell the blood. Though most of it was his own, he tended to simply ignore his own.
Link's heart beat hard and he struggled to focus. He fought against his body to permit him to stay awake. It was a confrontation with dark hands and enticing words that he had had too many times to count over the course of his life. He knew how to beat it. He knew how to hold on and how to cope. He knew the distinct difference between death's door and unconsciousness. He knew the fine line between a lot of blood and too much blood, a lot of numbness and too much numbness. Ren knew none of that, and he shouldn't have to.
Ren looked down at himself again. Link could see the panic in his erratic breaths and his pained shivering.
"Keep looking at me," his father whispered again, and Ren struggled to comply.
Their eyes met. Link's showed confidence. Despite the fatigue and agony, he showed his son that everything would be alright. Ren's were wide with fear, deep horror and dread that he would die before getting to do anything with his young life.
Then, when all felt bleak and the dark began to whisper a soothing lullaby, Ren's eyes closed and he felt light envelope him. Link watched in worry and confusion as he, too, felt the air turn serene and warm but could not quite place it. After only a brief moment, Ren opened his eyes slowly, and sat up even slower. He looked around groggily, at last setting his gaze upon his father.
"I feel..." Ren murmured softly, trailing off. He pushed aside the cultural waistband of his village and lifted his shirt to examine the strange sensation. His jaw dropped to find that his injury was gone.
Link sighed heavily in relief, remembering his princess and what she'd told him back in Kakariko, "Zelda..."
Ren touched his abdomen in disbelief. Blood still clung to his skin, but there was no puncture wound from the king's knife. He looked at his hands, then again at his stomach – he couldn't believe his eyes.
He turned to his father, "Zelda?"
"She protected you," he spoke quietly. The fact that his son was alright gave him that last inch of reassurance he needed to allow himself to be whisked away.
Ren thought hard for a moment, his brow tightened as he recalled a memory.
His face lit up when he found it, "That's what she did back at the castle? With the swirling lights and stuff?"
Link didn't know when or where it happened, but he knew the powers she had described was what saved his life, and he had only the energy to say, "Yes."
"Wow..." Ren whispered, staring again at his hands and at his now-healed body, "It still feels sore... Wait, does that mean... I can't die?"
Link shook his head weakly, "No. It was a... one time..." his words tapered as his world grew darker.
Ren panicked all over again when he noticed he was losing him. He closed the gap between them in a flash.
"Hey! Don't leave me!" Ren exclaimed, worry thick in his voice, "You're gonna be okay... right? What can I do?"
Link forced himself to look up at him though it was hard. He knew he could survive his wounds so long as they were bound to stop the bleeding, but what worried him was infection. He could already feel it pulsing through his veins like toxin, could feel it sapping his strength and eating away at his flesh. He'd felt it for a while now. There was nothing he could do about it here, and nothing Ren could do to fix it, so he did not mention it. But, there was one thing he could do.
"Grab Viscen's knife," Link stated.
Ren's brow furrowed momentarily at the request, but he did as he was told. Ren eyed the motionless form of the king skeptically, reaching over his limp body to grab the dagger at his side. He could hear his ragged breaths and it startled him.
"He's still alive," Ren said with a hint of surprise in his voice.
Link was not surprised, "I know. Bring the knife here."
Ren approached his father apprehensively, afraid he would ask something of him that he could not do. Link looked down at himself, though he knew the sensation without needing a visual, then he looked back at his son.
"See this wound?" the hero gestured at the front of his shoulder with his head down.
Ren hated to look at it – it made his skin crawl – but look at it he did. He nodded his head in reply.
"I need you to carve the skin around it and pull out the arrowhead," Link explained bluntly. With no healer or healer's tools, he knew it was the only other way.
Ren's face went pale, "Wait, what? I-I can't do that!"
Link's eyelids drooped; he did not have the energy for this.
Ren saw his exhaustion and tried to collect himself, "Okay, okay... I just – I don't want to hurt you."
"It has to come out. I'll be fine."
Ren gulped and stared at his objective with narrow eyes and determination. He gripped the knife firmly and placed the steel to his father's skin. He held it there, and held it there, and held it there. He could not bring himself to pierce him with it.
"You can do it," Link reassured, forcing a meager smile.
Ren focused. He pushed away the fear and the doubt. All he'd wanted all along was to prove himself, to be worthy, to be helpful. He couldn't back down when the opportunity presented itself, when his hero needed him.
He pressed the blade in gently, new blood forming from the incision. Link did not react. His eyes were closed and he secretly bit his tongue, but externally he kept himself as stone to avoid scaring Ren. Ren eyed him nervously, glancing between his closed lids and the wound at his fingertips periodically. The last thing he wanted to do was cause him anymore pain. He couldn't tell if he was hiding his discomfort from him, or if he was so remarkable that it didn't even faze him. For now, he would tell himself it was the latter.
"I, um..." Ren began, hoping to make conversation while he worked to take his mind off of the uneasiness of it, "I'm sorry."
Link didn't move or make a sound. Ren was burying the knife deeper, slicing away the skin that was barely starting to heal over the foreign object. It felt hot, and for Din's sake did it hurt. It was getting harder to keep it concealed. Link knew if he opened his mouth to reply it would only come out as grumbles.
Ren sighed, "I just wanted to help, but I just made things worse."
Link couldn't speak.
"I was actually kinda proud that I was able to sneak in here on my own, but it sounded like Viscen was expecting me," he muttered, "I guess it was all part of some stupid plan he had. I... didn't even end up doing any good. I just made it a mess."
Link wanted to say something, but, truthfully, he was struggling to even make out what he was hearing. His ears rumbled and rang all at the same time. He was losing the strength to keep himself upright and he could barely think. He knew, though, that if he didn't respond at all that Ren would worry.
So, he simply mumbled, "Mm."
"There was only one guard," Ren continued to ponder aloud, "I just thought he was really dumb. Turns out I was really dumb."
Link's head was pounding. Everything felt so heavy. His wounds pulsed with heat in time with his heart. His left arm no longer felt like a part of him, but like a parasite sucking his very lifeforce from him. His bleeding flesh was as hot as Death Mountain, but he felt so unbelievably cold. As soon as he accidentally acknowledged it, he began to shiver violently.
Ren felt it and recoiled, "O-Oh... I'm sorry... Did that hurt too much?"
Link shook his head, "Keep going."
Ren looked at his closed lids a moment, contemplating whether he should oblige or not. He didn't want to make things worse than he had already made them. He figured his father knew what he was doing, so he did as he was instructed.
"I told Zelda what you wanted me to," Ren said after an extended silence.
Words were hard to form. Link again just hummed, "Mm."
"She did know what you meant, just like you said."
Ren looked at him. He was unresponsive, but he knew he was listening.
"She said you guys got the... prophecy wrong... and she and Shad were trying to figure it out together, but they needed your help," Ren explained slowly.
He looked again at his father who remained unmoving, but he could see his lips quivering.
"Are you okay?" Ren asked, lowering the knife, "I cut all the way around like you asked..."
Link at last barely opened his eyes. He peered through slits down at his bleeding wound with a nod of approval.
"Use the knife..." he stopped to take a labored breath, "And get the arrowhead out."
Ren watched him return to closed eyes and a blank disposition. There was no way this wasn't going to hurt him, and it was the last thing he wanted to do. Ren focused on the raw flesh, determined to not let his father down. He pointed the edge of the blade where he made out the top of the arrowhead, pressed into the skin alongside it, and started digging.
Link was unable to keep his body from flinching or the pained grunts from escaping his throat, no matter how hard he tensed his muscles or clamped his mouth shut.
Ren felt sick to his stomach as he dug into his father's chest. His insides flip flopped and he had to look away momentarily to keep himself from throwing up. There was just so much blood. It now covered his hands and anything he touched. The smell was so strong and the feeling was so thick.
He worked slow, trying to ease the foreign object out with as little pain as possible. He started nervously making conversation again.
"They thought it might actually mean the Temple of Time, not Zora's Domain, but they weren't sure..."
Link didn't say anything, nor did he even make an attempt. When Ren exerted just a tad too much pressure, the blade slipped. Link grunted out loud.
"I'm sorry! I didn't mean-"
"Just get it out quickly, please," Link whispered.
"A-Are you sure? I don't want to h-"
"Yes," Link interrupted, looking at him sternly.
Ren returned his glare with one of worry and a lack of confidence. When his father again closed his eyes, Ren gulped down hard and didn't think about it any longer. He plunged the steel into the wound on one side and tried to grasp the opposite with his fingertips. It was slimy and hard to get a hold of, but as he wiggled it and wiggled it it began to come free.
Link writhed and bit his tongue hard. It was almost done, it was almost done, he kept telling himself. He concentrated on his breathing... The in, the out, the beating of his heart. The in, the out, the beating of his heart. The in, the out, the beating of his heart...
Ren flinched at the grossness. The blood, the gunk, the skin – it made his insides somersault and stomach bile rise to his throat. He remained focused, and, at last, the arrowhead was out.
Ren's jaw fell agape in surprise. Link heaved the loudest exhale in relief. The object clanked to the floor and Ren kicked it farther away. The boy looked down at his hands, sticky and messy with blood. He frowned and wiped his palms down his once-gray trousers.
He turned to his father, "Are you okay?"
For a long moment, Link just breathed. His chest was on fire and filling his lungs was a pain in itself. Despite the agony, the hero was quick-thinking.
"Take what's left of my shirt and use it to bind the wounds," Link instructed through obvious pain.
Ren saw him shiver, "Won't you be cold?"
Link ignored his question, "Rip it in half. Use one for my arm, the other for my shoulder."
When all was quiet for seconds uncounted and his son did not move, Link looked up at him. Ren appeared downtrodden, gazing down at dirty hands that he rubbed together nervously. Sandy blond hair covered his eyes and his toes curled and uncurled in his sandals. The feeling of sheer insignificance radiated off of him and Link realized he was being too callous. Though, truthfully, he was too tired to act much different.
Link sighed and grumbled, "Please..."
Ren looked at his father and said nothing, but he did as he was asked. The fabric was already ripped down the center, so all he needed to do was cut down the sleeves. Link quivered violently. From the cold, the pain, the confusion, the overwhelming sensation of all things. Ren frowned when he saw it, but they both were silent still.
Ren had never bound a wound before, but his bad leg had been treated enough times that he knew what to do. After all, it was easy enough: just wrap the fabric around the injury and tie it off. He didn't want it to be too tight, but he also didn't want it to be too loose. He periodically glanced at his father's closed lids to gauge his accuracy.
He wrapped the soft cloth around Link's shoulder several times. Under and over. Under and over. Under and over. The blood already quickly soaked through the first couple layers, so he kept going.
Everything was so quiet. His own breathing was loud in his long ears, his father's was louder still. He could hear his heartbeat like a drum, and every droplet of blood hitting the cobblestones was a boulder crashing into the earth. His fingers brushing against the cotton roared like a windstorm. He couldn't take the silence anymore.
"I came to ask you about the Temple of Time."
It took a moment, but Link at last met his gaze.
The hero's mind was blank. He thought he remembered him mentioning it only minutes – or was it hours by now? - ago, but he couldn't remember what for. So, he asked, "Why?"
"Zelda and Shad think the prophecy actually meant the Temple of Time, but they seemed to think it was crazy that that place even still existed," Ren explained, eyes focused on his task but his mind elsewhere.
Link thought for a moment. He recalled the verses, the words, every syllable and every analogy. He recalled the place he'd visited a lifetime ago with a friend he often wondered if he'd simply dreamt up. He pondered for a moment whether it was a secret he need not divulge, but then he realized almost every secret he'd ever kept was now out in the open.
"It does still exist," Link whispered.
Ren glanced at him, then back at the wound, "That's what Emeline said. But they weren't sure what it meant by, I think... a river? And a stone?"
Link's eyes gazed off but he paid no mind to what they beheld. The Temple of Time... could that really be what it meant? He recited the words to himself again and again. Where purest waters flow... Purest waters flow... Purest waters flow...
He closed his eyes and his brows drew together. He struggled to revive the image of that place in his mind's eye. The Sacred Grove... the trees, the brook, the quiet, the statues. Woods that were lost to time. Time felt unreal. Time felt like make-believe, not a binding construct. Time was as one made it and time was just as easily unmade. He remembered the door... The door that led nowhere one way and everywhere the other. The door.
His eyes opened, but they remained glazed over, "It's the door."
In the time he'd been lost in his thoughts, Ren had moved on to binding his father's arm. When he spoke, Ren looked up at him with curiosity.
"What door?"
Link straightened up a bit, wincing at the discomfort but doing so anyway. He kept thinking... the words replaying again and again and again. Purest waters... time unending... winding river... shine upon the stone... time stagnates. Waters. Time. Stone. Waters. Time. Stone.
"It's all a metaphor," Link mumbled.
Ren paused what he was doing, growing frustrated at the ambiguity, "What do you mean?"
Link smiled, and Ren was confused. That smile turned into a chuckle until finally he was all-out laughing. Ren stared in pure bewilderment. Had his father lost his mind? He simply watched and said nothing until his laughter quieted to just breaths.
"I can't believe I didn't think of it... all this time," Link uttered nearly inaudibly.
"Think of what?" Ren asked.
Link looked at him, and for a moment he wanted to explain everything. Then his mind remembered how tired his body was and all he could say was, "I'll explain it later."
Ren finished tying off the last of his father's wounds with a bit of a disheartened look on his face, "But... I want to help. If all I can do is get Midna for you, then that's what I want to do."
Link breathed deep as he stared at his boy. He saw so much of Ilia in him, and, he supposed, so much of himself – the latter was what worried him the most. Ren had already managed to show that he was reckless, that he would jump in headfirst without stopping to think. Himself and Ilia were a dangerous combination of tempers and foolishness. However, he also saw her selflessness, her desire to do good.
Link closed his eyes for only a moment before returning them to his son, "Go to the Sacred-"
He stopped short and his heart skipped a beat when Viscen suddenly sprang to his feet. The king looked momentarily out of sorts, but a glance around the room brought him to reality. His pupils were dilated and his eyes were wide as he stared at the hero, then at the boy.
"You," the king fumed, his voice rattling as he rubbed a hand on his sore throat. His eyes scanned Ren's body, and with a shaking finger he pointed, "How?"
When Viscen staggered angrily towards Ren, a blade from outside the cell thrust in front of the king.
Viscen looked up to meet the determined eyes of a scruffy man.
Ren smiled wide at the sight of his grandfather standing tall and courageous, his uncle close behind.
"Do not touch him," Rusl demanded.
Viscen eyed the strange man with curiosity, "And just who are you?"
Rusl said nothing in response, nor did Colin, Link, or Ren. The king glared at each of them in turn, and, feeling suddenly threatened and outnumbered, he straightened up and adjusted the cloak around his neck.
"I will have you know, it is treason to threaten the life of your king," Viscen seethed.
Rusl met his gaze without fear, "Let it be treason then."
Viscen's eyes narrowed. How had his influence not swayed these people? How were they not under his spell just as all of Castle Town at his feet? It infuriated him like much else did.
He spun on his heel toward the exit, shouting, "GUARDS!"
The king flew out of the dungeon like a bird from a cage. Rusl paid him no mind and instead turned to his son and grandson. He saw them both covered in blood and it sent his heart racing.
"For Din's sake," the older man mumbled.
"I'm fine," Ren said, getting to his feet.
"You both need to get out of here," Link breathed more than he spoke, "Now."
Rusl looked at him sadly, eyeing him like a ghost back from the dead. He shook his head in disbelief, unsure if the goddesses were showing him a phantom or his real son in the flesh.
At last, he shrugged, "I don't know what to say."
Link mustered the weakest smile he could, "I know."
Colin pushed past them all and approached his older brother. He hefted up his sword with both hands and a determined look on his face. Without a warning, he brought the steel down upon Link's chains, causing him to flinch, but it made no purchase.
No one said anything, the loud clank reverberating around the cell and then down the halls. Colin heaved and went for it again. On the third attempt, his father stopped him.
"They won't break."
Colin sighed, "I had to try."
Rusl reciprocated his disheartened appearance before going up to Link and clapping him on the shoulder with determination, "We'll be back. We'll get you out somehow. Your mother has missed you."
Link hung his head and could only repeat himself, "I know."
They sat in silence for a moment before the urgency set in upon the sound of approaching footsteps.
Rusl motioned to Colin and Ren, "Alright, we must go. Ashei is standing guard just outside."
Colin nodded and headed for the door, Rusl getting a head start. Ren went to follow suit, but Link said something before he was out of earshot.
"Go to the Sacred Grove."
Ren turned back to him, "The... Sacred Grove?"
Link didn't take the time to explain, taking only the time to breathe, "Go there, follow the golden wolf... It will show you the way."
"The wha-"
"Follow the golden wolf," Link reiterated, staring into his son's eyes that just too eerily imitated his own. He could see his confusion, but his determination was paramount. They stared in mutual understanding somehow before the sound of stampeding soldiers grew closer and closer. Link knew they were not far off now and there would be only seconds for him to get out in the opposite direction safely.
"Go!" he demanded in earnest.
Ren nodded anxiously and darted after his family, leaving Link again in lonely silence. The way they had entered from was still unguarded, just as it had been upon their arrival. Ashei waited just outside, and she gasped upon sight of Ren, but he assured her he was fine. They all made their way out of Castle Town with haste, careful to avoid busy streets that may house patrols. A universal sigh of relief was felt upon entering the expanse of Hyrule Field.
They travelled quickly back to the village and discussed what had happened as well as what to do next, but Ren couldn't concentrate on what they spoke of. All he could think about was what his father had told him to do.
Sacred Grove...
Follow the golden wolf...
He didn't know what that meant, but Farore, he would figure it out.
Yet flawlessly so.
A big thank you to the following for helping me get this chapter out there!
SonadowKokoro100, Debora, Chloe Rose, Claudia, Gabby-J, Jessie, Mandelbrot, Lotus Eater, Ivalee, Lee Glerum, Big Jake, Jacob Peachey
You guys are amazing!