Link dawdled, taking Epona out for rides or playing at reading books from the library, but he could sense Zelda growing anxious about the wedding and he finally headed out again, after a day or two, to find a musical troupe. He considered settling and picking the ones from that night, but they really weren't that good. He left early in the morning, intending to spend the whole day looking, and he started in the main circle of shops and pubs, asking after if they knew of talented people, or musicians looking for work for a night, paid at least in a good meal. He dressed in his shabbiest items and left his hat at the castle, wanting to avoid too much attention, and it worked for a while.
The first one to volunteer was just a girl singing alone, but Zelda had seemed pretty specific about a group, so he had to turn her down. After that was a man who claimed he could play many instruments at once, clad with a drum on his back, a horn and a harmonica on wired contraptions before his mouth, and bells on his hat. Link quickly told him no. The pub owner apologized; there weren't many singers left. They'd fleed during the attack and few seemed reluctant to return, taking up quiet lives in the little towns and properties scattered throughout the land southwards.
Link moved on to the next and the next pub, tavern, inn, whatever, and for the most part they were lacking. The musicians only seemed to know sad songs, or thinking to appeal to Link's pride, they would try to sing for him the tunes they'd hastily written about his victory, but Link would shake his head.
After a hasty lunch in the last pub, he gave up. He was stopping in the second circular path, wary of the outer circle, the dark little corners of the marketplace, and he walked the way he came, making a last loop and looking in the windows, a frown on his face. At one such window, the shopkeep was putting together a display of gadgets and wares, and one such item was a box with a round plate on top, a pin sticking out of the middle and an arm-like device along one side. From the back of the box stuck out a huge brass horn, like a flower.
Link stepped inside, staring at it, and the shopkeep greeted him cordially enough.
"What is that thing?" he asked, pointing.
"Oh, it's a new device for playing music, sir. The latest thing. A band that never tires! It takes funny wax plates…"
Carefully, the shopkeep took up a thin black disc and settled it onto the pin. "There's only a few of these, but they can play as much as you like!" He turned a hand-crank on the side of the machine several times, then lowered the arm over the disc as it started to turn. From the trumpet came the scratchy sound of a violin, playing a simple melody alone.
Link walked around and around, staring at it, and the shopkeep's cheeks were aching from the false smile. If his stupid brother lost him money on this stupid contraption, he would ruin him.
"That's amazing," Link muttered finally.
"Yes, isn't it? Soon we won't even need live music anymore, it will all be these little boxes in every home!"
There was something slightly bitter in his tone, and Link turned his head to look at the man.
"Well, it's probably too expensive for me," Link said finally.
Oh, was he going to hit Tomas when he closed up! He knew this was a bad idea!
"And I need something a lot louder than this, for a wedding party and all."
The shopkeep nodded, looked at Link closer, put two and two together, and gasped in shock and tried to bow.
"Your Future Highness, forgive me!"
Link shook his head. "Come on man, don't do that. Come on. Straighten up."
The shopkeep did as bid. "Of course, you'll want the best musicians, sir."
"Yeah, do you know where I can find one?" Link chuckled. "I'm not having much luck."
The shopkeep thought, frowning a little. "Yes, I know of at least a few bands… If you'd be willing to wait a moment?"
"Yeah, of course."
The shopkeep went to the back of his establishment to a flight of stairs, and hollered up, "Mina! Can you watch the store for an hour? I'm going for a lunch."
Mina stomped down, a heavy woman with curled blonde hair, and she frowned at him. "Going for a lunch? I can just bring you something!"
"We have a customer who has very specific needs." The shopkeep emphasized his words, and Mina glanced at Link, then at her husband, whose eyes were wide with earnestness, then again to Link, and really saw him, and she sucked in a little breath and nodded.
"Alright love, let me know when you're back."
"Of course."
He escorted Link out of the building and they were heading for the seedy outer circle, which put him on edge.
"I apologize sir, but it is important."
Link kept an eye out, his dagger was on his hip again today, but the streets were mostly quiet this early in the afternoon. They headed to a rundown tavern and walked in, and the tavernkeep glanced at Link curiously but only nodded to the shopkeep, "Hello, Martin."
"Hello, Pawl, is…?"
"He's upstairs."
Martin, or the shopkeep, led Link up the stairs and down a short hallway, knocking on the next-to-last door. It took some time, but soon the door opened, revealing a clean and bright room, the window open to the sun. A young man, near Link's age, had answered, and he smiled.
"Dad, hey."
"Hello, boy." The shopkeep and Link stepped in to the room. It was mostly bare besides the bed and a writing desk covered in paper, but in one corner sat a carefully-polished guitar on a simple stand. Link looked at those, then to the young man, who looked a lot like the shopkeep and not at all like the wife.
"Can you still get your friends together?"
"Ah, yeah, I'm sure we can… is there a—is there work?" The shopkeep's son looked from him to Link curiously. Link had wandered over to the writing desk and was glancing at the paper, which turned out to be sheet music.
"Yes, a gig, if you can play well. A good one." The shopkeep gestured to Link, and he was unsure of what to say, all of a sudden.
"I can play well," he answered, glancing to Link.
"Do you have a band?" Link asked immediately.
"I have some friends, yeah." He folded his arms.
"Can I hear you guys play?"
The shopkeep jabbed his son in the arm. His son looked back, somewhat irritated; his dad was constantly foisting crap little jobs on him for the shop's newest sale or a distant relative's party or something, but he didn't know this blond guy and didn't know why his father looked so desperate.
"I guess, uh, we can probably play downstairs tonight."
Link knew he could never drag Zelda here, and the soldiers were still cool towards him. He would have to head out alone.
"Alright then, what's a good time?"
The son shrugged. "Seven, I guess?"
Link nodded. "Okay."
The shopkeep tried to hug his son, then tried to give him a little money, and the son took the latter quickly.
"You'll do good, boy, play the one… you know the one I like, right?"
"Yeah Dad, I know."
Link headed out, and the shopkeep was behind him on the stairs. "I'm sorry for his behavior, sir, but he's very bullheaded like his mother. That's why he's living out here; she kicked him out when he refused to take up a trade. A lot of people don't respect musicians, you know…"
Link nodded. "Don't worry about it… I trust you."
The shopkeep nodded, and rubbed his hands together. "Can I help you with anything else, sir?"
"No, no, but thank you again. I'm going to head back, probably. See what the queen needs and all that."
"Of course sir, and thank you for your patronage. Please, if you ever consider the music box, we're the first shop to carry them."
"Yeah, thanks." The man bowed and left, and Link headed back towards the castle, moving quickly. He glanced back once, to remember the name of the place, and nodded to himself when he had it memorized.
The Crooked Arrow.
\
Zelda laid in bed for a while after Link got out, taking deep, even breaths and closing her eyes. But the room spun worse when she did so, and she mumbled a curse under her breath. There was a gentle sound near her ear, and when she dared to open her eyes and turn her head, she saw Tilly had set down a plate of hard toasted bread and weak tea.
"I recommend you take at least a bite or two before getting up, Your Majesty."
"Thank you," Zelda murmured. Tilly helped her to sit up and offered her the plate, and Zelda forced down a bite, then a second, and then had a swallow of the tea.
"Is the mail in, yet?"
"The morning delivery, yes. I've already placed it on your desk for perusal, but um…" She glanced back, and the hesitation made Zelda sit up and look at her with a frown.
"Well, there was one letter I thought…"
Tilly handed off a letter addressed to Link with a Terminian postmark. Zelda swore. "She said she was here, how is it still getting sent from Termina? If she wants to be so secret, she should be using a Hylian one." She frowned deeply, but opened the envelope and pulled out the letter.
Link
Please, I don't have much time. I cannot say much, lest this letter be intercepted, but PLEASE, you must visit me soon! It's about Mikal
-V
Zelda glanced at Tilly.
"Mikal is…"
"Their child." Now Zelda felt guilty. What if something really was wrong with their son? Didn't Link deserve to know? But on the other hand, what if it was a ploy for his attention? She looked at Tilly, who looked back. "What do you make of this? How… believable is this?"
"Well… I don't know, Your Majesty, I only met her briefly. But… if there is something wrong with their child, something serious, why would she travel so far instead of contacting him from her home?"
Zelda nodded. "That's very true. I was thinking the same, but of course if Theo doesn't know, and if she forbid him from seeing the boy…" She considered the letter for some time, but she did not want to deal with it. "Keep bringing them to me. Hide them if you must."
"Of course."
Zelda waved her off and, feeling much better with something in her stomach, she stood and headed to her desk. There were more important matters to deal with. She checked her calender; she and Link were due for fittings in the next few days, and she shivered. Not long, now.
\
Link headed out alone, after dinner. He told Zelda he was going to listen to some musicians, and she smiled and nodded approval, then asked if he wanted her with him. But he refused; the father hadn't mentioned who he was, and he wasn't going to attract the attention of the outer edge's less savory characters.
She kissed his cheek, her hand lightly resting on one shoulder, and reluctantly Link left the castle, in the plainer clothes he'd worn earlier. He kept his dagger under his coat, and its bounce on his hip kept him reassured about his safety.
The back alleys didn't look quite so forboding at night. Light was shining from most of the windows, and there were people walking together in clumps, laughing. Already there was a drunk sleeping it off in a dark corner. Link looked up at the signposts, frowning, and when he saw the one with the bent arrow on the sign, he knew to enter.
The band had not yet started, but he recognized the man's son at the bar, and he chose a table near the entrance to the place. He didn't want to linger long. A girl swept by and set down a mug of ale, and Link thanked her, taking a small sip. He looked at the girl again as she moved away, and frowned. Apparently she hadn't recognized him, but it seemed she held no shards of glass tonight. Her job must be worth something to her.
After a half hour, and a small plate of bread and cheese, the band finally took the stage. The young man Link had met held his guitar close, and behind him was a young woman holding a drum, another man holding a flute, and another woman with a smaller guitar in her hands.
"We're known as Nayru's Voice," the young man said by introduction. He didn't look quite so annoyed as he had earlier in the day. Instead he looked solemn and nervous. There were a few weak cheers from the audience. The girl at his side plucked experimentally at the strings on her instrument.
"This first song is called, 'Would you know me?'", he added, as he also began to strum, and the drummer picked out a beat.
The song was slow and gentle, and the guitarists sang in harmony. It was a song about lost love and second chances and some such subject matter, and a little sad. When it finished, a few of the audience applauded, Link included.
The young man introduced another song, and again it was a slow, melodic beat, with just the female guitarist singing along with the flute-player, another song about missed opportunities. Link hoped they had more than that, and he considered standing and asking the young man to play something happier.
A third song, a little happier this time, then they took a break to drink some ale, and because people were growing restless. Link met the young man at the bar.
"What do you think?" he asked Link, looking at him in defiance.
"Well, it's good, but it's for a wedding. Don't you have anything… happier?"
"I told you," hissed the drummer. "Can we play 'Songs of Summer' next?"
"I don't want to play it!" he snapped back, turning away from Link.
The drummer rolled her eyes and grabbed his sleeve, dragging him away from Link, who pretended to be watching the barkeep fill his mug.
"This man is going to pay us money to play for his wedding. Actual money, not from your daddy for us all to live on. And depending on where this goes, we could go anywhere from here."
"And give up my integrity? My inspiration?"
"You mean your whiny attitude over Brina? Get over it, Vik!"
"Don't you say her name!"
"I swear on Din's fire, I will kick you out of the band myself. Three happy songs! Good ones! That is what he wants to hear!" She glared at him with such ferocity that he caved.
"Can I at least do one more sad song after those?"
"Maybe, but I think he's heard enough."
The drummer forced Vik back to the stage, and Link went back to his table, settling in, hoping that she was successful in her efforts. Vik started to introduce a song, but already the drummer was smacking a quick beat on her drum, staring pointedly at him, and he frowned and cleared his throat and introduced a different song than what he was going to say.
Link perked up slightly; it was faster and a lot happier than the last songs, which he appreciated, and he tapped his foot as other people in the building clapped and two of them stood up to dance together in the small open space before the stage. This was what he'd been hoping for.
\
Verla muttered a curse and pulled a pillow over her head. The earlier music hadn't been so bad, soft enough that she could fall asleep to it, but now it was far too loud. Mikal gurgled and cooed from his drawer. One of her maids, sensing her distress, sat up.
"Is everything alright, my lady?" she asked quietly.
"That music is too fucking loud," Verla snarled. Damn this shithole, and damn Link, and damn Theo for the idea of her stuck here with their—her child!
"Stay somewhere inconspicuous, where he'd never usually go," he'd suggested, handing her a pittance for the travel.
"Won't I look conspicuous, with maids and a baby and my finery?"
"Wear your shabbiest clothes. Pretend the women are your sisters. Many men died in the last year; your husband could be one of them." He looked her dead in the face, with that flat, dead expression. Verla could think of nothing else to say in response.
"Would you like me to go down and ask them to be quiet, my lady?"
Verla sighed. "No… I doubt they would, anyway. It's the way this place is constructed. There's no… there's nothing between the walls to keep it quiet." She sat up and went to quiet Mikal down, hugging him gently. He bumped his head against her tender chest, and she sat down carefully, trying to balance him between her belly and breasts for him to feed.
"Should we go down and see what all the music is about, my lady?" the other maid offered. They'd been going crazy, surely, cooped up in this place with her while she waited for Link's approach. "They don't play music much…"
Verla considered, looking at the women, then down at Mikal, who wasn't even paying attention to her, but was looking around and flailing his fists.
"Yes, I suppose," she said with a sigh.
The maids took their time getting their shoes on before they headed down, not wanting to look too eager to escape the small room that felt smaller by the day.
"I'm telling you," Nina whispered to Kitti, "I'm telling you, he's not coming. She's wasting her time."
"I know, but what can we do about it? We leave, we're out a job."
"I don't get why she wants to see him so bad, anyway."
Kitti giggled. "I heard His Future Majesty is a more… thorough lover, than our good Lord Theo."
Nina gasped and laughed as well, and soon they were down the steps and out on the main floor of the place.
Kitti nodded along with the music, and the two of them went to the barkeep and ordered a drink each, tiny glasses of sherry to be billed to the room, and hoped it would be lost in their total bill, with all the food and waste removals and whatnot. They sat down at a table with two empty spots, closest to the bar and among some farmhand-looking types, who stood when they approached and pulled their chairs out and everything.
One of them offered Nina a pull from his pipe, and she took it, nodding her head along with the music. The tobacco burned in a good way on her tongue. She looked around as she handed the pipe back, glancing a flash of yellow in the back of the room. She nudged Kitti, gesturing with her chin, and Kitti looked.
"He's attractive enough, isn't he?" she said with a giggle.
"It's truth, he is."
The young man was smiling and nodding in time with the music, his bright blue eyes always on the band.
"You should go talk to him," Kitti said encouragingly.
"No, no, I can't. Not with my loving husband back home." Nina batted her eyelashes.
Kitti laughed, "what husband?"
One of the farmhands or whatever looked in that direction, then laughed. "You must be out-of-towners," he said, leaning in towards the two women.
"Why's that?" Nina asked, surprised.
"Well anyone in Hyrule knows the face of His Future Majesty, and our hero."
That was him?!
Kitti whistled through her teeth. "No wonder our lady wants to see him so bad, wouldn't anyone?"
"You think he'll need a mistress?" Nina asked the old man, laughing.
"I doubt so, very much," the farmer replied. "Rumor is, he's already put a child in the royal chalice."
"Hylian boys move fast," muttered Nina.
Kitti had a revelation, and she elbowed Nina sharply. "He came," she hissed.
"Well, obviously," Nina replied, missing what Kitti was saying and thinking it was innuendo.
"No, idiot, he came here."
Nina looked at Kitti a moment longer in foolishness, then gasped when she realized.
"By the moon's fall," she swore, "do you think…?"
"We should get Verla. We should tell her."
"Yes, yes."
They both downed the last sip of their sherry, and the farmhands scraped and scrabbled to help them out of their chairs or at least stand as they rose (a little too late). They walked, trying not to look panicked and harried as they headed up the steps, but once at the hall they ran on light feet to the door and then, remembering their place, they carefully opened the door again.
Mikal had been tucked back into his drawer, and Verla had managed to curl up and fall asleep despite her complaints of noise. She was exhausted from caring for Mikal all the time. Sometimes the girls helped, sure, but she had to do so much more without the governess and the wet nurses and the team of women to help with everything.
So she grumbled when Nina approached her, a gentle hand on her shoulder, and rolled away.
"My lady, please, it's very important." She gave her a light shake.
Verla yawned and glowered at her from one open eye.
"What?"
"My lady, he's downstairs."
Verla glanced at Mikal, then at Nina. "What?"
"He's downstairs. Your man."
"Theo?"
"No, uh… him. Link."
Verla stared at Nina, and when she finally realized what she was saying, Verla sat up and rushed around the room, picking things up.
"Clean this place. Make it look good."
"Will you head down?" Kitti asked, taking up glasses and bowls and stacking them on a tray.
"No, no. Absolutely not. He must come to me."
Kitti nodded. Him coming to her put her in a position of power, however small.
Verla combed her hair quickly and pinned it back out of her face. She added a dot of lipstain and some pinky pale powder to her cheeks, trying to look still-asleep but fresh-faced.
"He will come up when he is done with the music," Verla said with a nod, determined. "He will come up. Of course he'd wait until night." She cleared her throat. "Of course, of course." She sat down on the edge of the bed, rubbing her hands together, confident and relieved. "After the music is done, he will head up," she said again, to herself. Maybe sooner.
\
Even though Vik looked irritated, he sang with joy in his voice. They went through two more songs, one sung by the drummer and one sung by the guitarists together. It was good, and the mere fact that people were willing to dance to it solidified that this was a good choice. At the end of the songs, they decided to take another brief break, and Vik headed to the bar to refill his glass. Link met him there.
"So what'd you think of our music, sir?" Vik asked, as if he didn't really care.
"Well, it's good. I never learned how to play anything myself. I was always better with a sword."
"Well, some are born to violence," Vik answered, wrinkling his nose, and he glanced at Link to see how he'd take it.
Then he looked again, really looking at the fierce eyes.
"Oh…" the blood drained from his face. "Oh no."
Link couldn't help but grin a little. "Yeah, I suppose some of us make music, and others of us defend them."
"Your Majesty, I didn't mean…"
"Eh." Link took a drink of ale. "It's fine."
The drummer had stepped up to Link's other side, and she stared at him. "Does this… what does this mean? Does this mean we're playing for the wedding party?"
"And the wedding," he said quietly. "Background music, I think."
The drummer shrieked in victory, which caused a few people to look around in alarm. She grabbed Vik and hugged him, then she curtseyed clumsily. "Thank you, Your Majesty, you will not regret this."
The other guitarist and the flute-playered both bowed and scraped, and then everyone was looking, and Link tried to laugh. The server that had tried to stab him almost dropped her whole tray.
"Alright now, calm down, okay?"
"Of course, of course." The female guitarist smoothed her dress, but her face was alight with a smile.
"I don't have much money on me tonight, but you will get paid on the wedding day," Link said, even though he wasn't really sure. "Just show up at the castle, tell them you're the band…"
Zelda had told him to find someone, but she hadn't told him of the intricacies of actually booking. He gestured uselessly.
"Don't worry, Your Majesty, we will be there bright and early and everything."
"Sounds good, sounds… sounds fine." He shook their hands.
"Thank you for giving us a chance, sir," the flutist said quietly.
"Of course."
He shook hands with Vik last, who was the only one who managed to look him almost in the face.
"You owe your dad a thanks," Link murmured to him.
"Yeah." He looked away.
"Maybe visit them. Your parents."
"Yeah."
The bartender gave Link everything he'd ordered on the house, but Link handed him what little he had, then he turned and, looking over the room loud with excited whispering, he found his server who had tried to hide in the shade and walked over, standing before her.
She glanced at him, then down at her feet. He held out a blue rupee. She looked at it, then at him, then took it quickly before it left her sight.
"Maybe now you won't try to stab me," he muttered, before turning and leaving the shabby place.
\
Verla was able to keep awake until the sun was rising, and she gave up. She knew in a few hours, Mikal would wake up and start crying, so she had best get some sleep. She wiped her face clean, and curled up on the bed, closing her eyes.
\
Link got back to the castle in a good mood, and he greeted the few soldiers on duty jovially, and they returned it. He even whistled a little; he was starting to really take to his new role. He headed up to her room, gently touching the knob and deciding against knocking, and he walked right in.
Zelda was curled up on her side away from the door, he noticed when he snuck through the second door of her rooms, and he smiled. He liked that she was peaceful and asleep. He sank down slowly on the bed next to her, touching her arm, then her hip, reaching under the sheets, and Zelda sighed and turned, smiling at him.
"How was it?"
"They were good, pretty good. I think they'll do." He kissed her, and she smiled more.
"I'm glad." She wrapped her arms around his neck, and he kissed her again, then kissed her collarbone. "Mm."
He thought, then leaned back slightly to look at her in the moonlight, and began to undo the bow at the top of her chiffon gown. Zelda watched him, her eyes bright.
"You're in a good mood?" she asked quietly, when he opened the top of her dress.
"Shh," he whispered, kissing the skin between her breasts and then playfully biting one, near the hardening point of her nipple.
"What are you doing?" she asked him, but he simply hushed her again and continued on his way, his hand between her thighs and his fingers moving up into her. She gasped and arched her back, and Link sucked gently at one nipple, worrying it with his teeth as her toes curled. He loved how she was always ready for him.
"Please?" she whispered, arching her hips, and instead he tangled his fingers in her hair and gave it a little pull while he slid another finger into her. Zelda moaned, and Link switched breasts, and she could find nothing else to do but put her fingers in his hair in return.
After a few minutes of her gasping and panting and trying not to talk, Link pulled his hand out, wiped it on the sheets, and rolled Zelda onto her stomach.
"What's this?" she asked quietly. He pulled her up so she was on her hands and knees, and then he undid his pants and slid into her, effortlessly. Zelda groaned and gripped the headboard with one hand as Link started thrusting, slowly. He reached around and put his hand to her again, and now she couldn't help but cry out.
He moved faster, harder, and she looked back at him over her shoulder, her face red with excitement. Link leaned over and bit her ear. He kneeled behind her, and with his other hand he cupped one of her breasts, pinching her nipples so hard it had to hurt, but she only egged him on with her body.
"My king," she whispered, and he smiled.
"Say it again," he urged.
"My king," she moaned, his hand and hips moving faster. "Oh Goddesses."
He leaned back and took her hips, his one hand slick from her, and she gasped as he moved in short, hard thrusts, filling her.
Zelda was beside herself; never had Link taken charge of her like this, and she couldn't help but like it. Her nipples throbbed in time with her heart in a good way, and his callused fingers were a pleasing texture.
"Oh, oh Link, oh…"
"Say it," he murmured.
"My king," she managed, again.
She clenched, and he muttered a curse and bit her neck as they rocked back and forth. With a sharp cry of ecstacy, they climaxed together. Link slowed down, still gently rocking back and forth, and finally he pulled back and stretched out next to her. Zelda flopped onto her side so she could face him, smiling, her face red.
"What was that about?"
He pulled her close, wrapping his arms around her waist. "I wanted to hear you say it," he said with a shrug.
"Say… what?"
"Calling me your king," he said quietly, kissing her forehead.
"You could've asked," she said with a laugh.
"It wouldn't have been as fun."
Zelda laughed again, and they kissed longingly. Link kissed her breasts, gently, apologizing for having been so rough, then he rested his cheek on her chest and closed his eyes.
"Sleepy?" she asked with a smile.
"Yeah."
"Go on and sleep, then." She stroked his hair and pulled the covers up over them both, settling back on the pillows. Zelda smiled to herself, content and happy.
\
"Close your eyes, Your Majesty."
Zelda did as she was bidden, her heart pounding. Odelia had gone with her to the dress-fitting, and was waiting in the parlor, drinking some tea and looking around aimlessly while Zelda was dressed in the back.
Zelda held her breath, trying to pull in her gut as the heavy gown settled around her. The dressmaker moved quickly, untucking her hair from the gown and doing up the trail of buttons in the back, muttering and tugging at the sleeves, the collar, the hemline.
"There…" she said quietly. Then she took Zelda's hands and led her out into the main parlor, Zelda taking little steps, trying not to step on the dress's edge. She heard Odelia gasp sharply, but she could not tell if it was good or bad. The dressmaker smoothed out the skirt and stepped back. "You may look now."
Zelda opened her eyes and stared at her reflection. The dress had a scooped collar, with embroidery in three shades of gold worked around the edge. It barely rested on her shoulders, with two-inch wide straps, then voluminous sleeves that were gathered back in just above the elbow, with tiny gold beads crawling up the fabric towards her shoulders. The bust was pleated and gathered into a wide waist sash that ended above her natural waist, for the skirt to flare out, hiding her hips and lower stomach. The back of the skirt trailed out behind her as she turned around to look at it, her eyes wide. It was the fabric she'd gotten at the fair, the one she'd taken from Verla.
When she looked questioningly at the dressmaker, she shrugged and said, "I saved it for you."
Zelda glanced to Odelia, who was staring and staring, her hands covering her mouth and tears in her eyes.
"Your Majesty," she managed to squeak.
Zelda smiled, looking at the dress, and turning, always turning. She felt embarrassed, suddenly, about the expense, the ostentatiousness of the gown. "It's too much, it's too much," she said, stopping, not facing the mirrors.
"Zelda," Odelia said immediately, standing and going to her, holding her hands. "It's perfect."
"But it's too much, Odelia, I can't… I can't marry him in this."
"If you would wish me to cut it down, Your Grace, I could…" the dressmaker started, but Odelia held up a hand to stop her, not taking her eyes from Zelda's face.
"You can, Your Majesty. You look beautiful in this dress. And it's a symbol for the country, that things are getting better." Odelia nodded, trying to comfort her. "You are a beautiful bride." She blinked away her own tears. "It's okay."
Zelda bowed her head and nodded in agreement. Odelia hugged her, and stepped back to look at her again. Zelda turned hesitantly towards the mirror, the dressmaker standing by nervously, and she smiled. The bottom hem of the dress had more of the embroidery and beading creeping upwards.
"Do you really think it's not too much?"
"It's very tasteful, I promise you."
"Well… it is the only thing I am purchasing for the wedding," she mumbled, turning, and turning, and watching the fabric swirl around her and catch the light and change in that strange way it had. When she stopped, she almost fell over, dizzy, but Odelia held her upright and smiled.
"I'm happy," Zelda said finally, with a nod.
\
"I went with the jade, sir, as it is your preferred color."
Link nodded, his arms outstretched, as he turned this way and that. He had on a cropped jacket in a rich forest green, over a bone-colored vest and matching breeches. He thought he didn't look at all himself, but the dressmaker assured him that it was about playing the part of the man he was to become, or some other such nonsense. The jacket had drooping tails in the back, which he wasn't sure about at first, but the tailor assured him that they could be shortened, if he wanted. Link said it was fine as was. He turned one way, then the other.
"Does it look okay?"
"Yes, it looks wonderful, sir."
"Hm."
Link tugged at the bottom edge of the jacket, adjusting the fit.
"It looks good," he agreed.
"I think we'll take in the shoulders a bit, maybe, but not too much longer. Are you nervous, sir?" the tailor asked as he helped Link remove the jacket.
"A little."
"Not as nervous as she is, I'm sure."
"Probably not." Link shrugged. Zelda took things in stride, it was hard to tell with her.
"Well, you will make a most handsome groom," the tailor assured him.
"Thank you." He pulled his old tunic back on, and the tailor escorted him out.
It was a beautiful day; the sun was bright in a clear sky, with no clouds to speak of, but it was cool enough that it wasn't stifling. The buzz over the wedding had brought in more vendors, more artists, more people than Link had seen in the marketplace since their last fair. He smiled and waved when people called to him. It was intoxicating, all that power.
He headed to the castle, whistling. Everything was being cleaned, old furniture and table fixtures were being brought from the cellars (what little could be found) and cleaned for the ceremony. Unsure of what to do (he thought for sure that Zelda would be at her fitting for a while), he ended up heading to the room he was sharing with her. He could help get a head start on some of the paperwork for the day.
Link sat down at her desk, looking around at the scrolled paper and wax-sealed envelopes. He picked one at random, opening it and checking. A plea for more aid to an outlying county. He started a pile, and as he looked through, he began to sort the letters. A few were even letters of congratulation, and one, from Gerudo, that Jalila would soon be arriving in town.
He looked in surprise when he saw a letter addressed to himself, and he thought he recognized the writing. He frowned at the Terminian postmark, suspicious, but when he saw the seal on the back, he knew, and his blood ran cold.
Link took a pen knife from the table and opened the letter, unfolding it quickly. She must know their wedding was coming.
Please, this may be the last chance I will ever have to contact you. You must come see me! I know you were here the other night, but you never came! If you care for me or your son, even the littlest bit, you must visit me. Tonight under darkness, if you must, but please
V
Link stared at the letter, reading again. She was cruel to use their son like this, as a ploy to get his attention. But… she knew he was there the other night? Where was there? He'd been a million places in the last few days. He'd been handing out food to the needy with Zelda, he'd been supervising the tending of the horses (when he made it out there), making sure their weapons were sharp and the armorsmith was getting adequate help(just in case, though his hopes were high for peace), that the food and the wine and candles and everything was being brought to his attention.
The last chance to contact him, he wondered. Had there been others? Other letters?
Where had they gone?
He carefully folded the letter back up and put it in his pocket, thinking. They could have gone undelivered. They could have been lost at the bottom of a mailbag. They could have… been burned.
He glanced at the fireplace, kept to coals during the day, and lit for the chill nights.
What if something was actually wrong? What if this wasn't a ploy, but an honest request for him to see her? It had to be important if she had actually traveled so far with their child to see him. But on the other hand, he would be surprised if people were not aware of the royal wedding. Surely she knew, and wouldn't it be like her to come back now, practically on the eve of it, to haunt him?
But he would hate himself forever if he ignored this letter and his son fell ill and died.
Zelda resented Verla and what she represented, he knew that well enough. And since that strange Gerudo man had shown up to play manservant, staying near Zelda's maid at all times, Tilly had been exceptional in her service. And so suddenly, Zelda had the money for the wedding.
So suddenly, after the birth of Mikal.
Link felt sick with shock, then he felt anger. What had she done? Had Zelda lied to him? Had she been playing him? Was she even truly pregnant? Was he a fool all over again?
He thought again about the words in the letter, then tried to think of where he'd been. It came to him suddenly; there was one place he'd been for several hours, that could hide a woman and her child.
Link rubbed his hands together, thinking. He would go. He would go and see why Verla was here, figure out if something had truly gone wrong. And he could see his son again, for a little while.
He cleared his throat and stood, looking around, not seeing anything, and instead he chose to leave, walking quickly. He didn't care it was the middle of the day. For all most knew, he was going to visit Vik with a song list or something. The guy lived in the same place, after all. He kept his face neutral, so as not to arouse suspicion, and he kept his dagger close. For once, he was glad he did not keep the Master Sword.
Link entered the Crooked Arrow, and the barkeep waved, and the few people in there so early in the day cheered in recognition.
"Not sure if Vik will be up, sir, would you like a drink?"
"Nah, I'll go uh…" Link shrugged, "just wake him up."
"Of course, of course."
Link went up the stairs, wondering which room would be hers. He knocked on some doors and got no response, and he knew to skip Vik's room. One person did come to the door once, but it was an old man, who shook his head and shut the door before Link could say anything.
He got to the last room on the end, and it seemed obvious to him now, that it would be hers. He knocked twice, and waited.
After a few moments, the door opened, and Kitti stared at Link, blushing. "Yes?" she squeaked. She and Nina had just been whispering how he was never coming and Verla had been wasting her time.
"I'm here to see the lady," he muttered quietly.
"Of course, sir." Kitti let him in, shutting the door, and Nina stared, her mouth agape, as Kitti announced Link to Verla, who was on the bed five feet in.
"Oh shut it," Verla snapped. "I can see." She looked exhausted and worn out, more than the last time he'd seen her, and her dress was opened, with Mikal feeding off one breast.
"Ladies, leave us," Verla commanded sharply. Nina and Kitti glanced at each other, then left, to sit downstairs and have a drink, and a snack.
Mikal pulled away from Verla and gurgled, turning slightly and seeing Link, and he laughed. Verla held Mikal out. "Could you hold him for a minute?"
"Yeah." He took Mikal and looked at him, talking quietly, ignoring (to her dismay) as Verla carefully wiped up a drop of milk from her breast and applied a salve before tucking it back in her dress.
"So, is he alright? Anything wrong?" Link bounced Mikal slightly. Mikal squealed in response, his blue eyes bright and happy.
"Yes, he's fine. I'm glad you finally responded to my letters," she snapped back.
"I've been busy."
"Yes, I know."
"Preparing for my marriage."
"Of course." Verla snorted. This wasn't going how she thought at all.
"So what are you doing here?"
"Well, Theo found out about Mikal's true father and… and kicked me out. I have nowhere else to go, and seeing as… seeing as you are the true father…"
"And?" Link shrugged. "Why should I help you?"
"W… you're the one who caused this trouble!"
He sighed. It was harder and harder to repress his anger. "You could have done something."
"And sever the only connection I had left to the man I love?"
"If you love me, then why did you marry him?" He was tired of the run-around, but he couldn't keep his eyes off Mikal.
"Because we needed the money."
"Bullshit. I worked there, I know how much that farm took in."
"No, Link, you don't understand!" Verla sniffed and clasped her hands. "Mother was falling ill…"
"That woman was healthy as a horse."
"Not after you left!" she shouted. Mikal grew quiet, and grasped for Link's hand.
"She got sick?" he asked quietly. Verla's mother had always been kind to him.
"Well, yes."
"But she was at the blessing. She looked fine." His voice was hard again, but there was uncertainty, and Verla was grasping at it.
"Well yes, with Theo's help, she had the doctors she needed…"
"What was she sick from?"
"What?"
"What did she get sick from? What was it?"
"I don't… I don't know, it was… an infection. Hay lung."
His face grew dark again. He was sick of women and their lies. He gently put Mikal in his drawer bed and tucked him in, and turned towards her. "Your own mother was deathly ill? Why are you really here, Verla? What's your end game? Are you trying to lure me away from my future?"
"No, but…" She gestured. "I have nothing, now."
"You turned me away. How is that MY problem?"
"Because he's your son!"
"Still! You said he wasn't anymore. That he wasn't mine. I couldn't touch him. Why are you really here, huh? Playing a game? Trying to pull me away from Zelda? You stood a really good chance once, but I'm sick of you. She means the world to me. You were that once, but you threw it away!"
He was shouting by the end, and both Mikal and Verla had gone quiet, staring at him.
"You threw us away," he repeated, quieter. "And I guess I understand why. But don't try to come to me and start something again. Beg Theo's forgiveness, pay your taxes, and leave us be."
Verla sucked in a little breath of air. "But… I did pay my taxes. That's why I'm in such a bind."
"What? You did? Well… good, then." He put his hands on his hips.
"Because your precious wife, your world, she blackmailed me," she added, very quietly.
"She…"
"Zelda made me sign slips- or at least, her funny lapdog did, renouncing you as Mikal's father. Eliminating his future, any chance he will have to be something great."
"In Hyrule."
"Y…" But his nostrils were flaring, and he'd gone very pale. "Yes, in Hyrule. And there's a chance of that in Termina, too. People will know that Mikal is not Theo's. He cannot claim anything there, either. Your son has no future, now."
Link glanced at Mikal, then back to her. "Okay."
"If you came with me, instead, we could build something for him. We could start fresh. He would be your child, he could follow in your footsteps. He could be a good woodsman." She stood and approached him. "We could give him a good life. We could give him siblings." She touched his chest, pressing into him. She bit her lower lip and shifted one arm, so that the shoulder of her dress shifted away, exposing the line of her shoulder. "We could start today."
Link looked down, past Verla's bust, and to her stomach. "Looks like he's already got one on the way."
"Please Link, touch me again," she whispered, pulling his face up. "I could die a thousand times by your hand."
Link pulled his jaw free, his skin crawling and his anger hot in his temples, and thinking he never would, he slapped her. Verla gasped in shock and touched her cheek carefully, her eyes wide.
"Keep the hell away from me. If that's really Theo's child, then congratulations, and your marriage with him is secure as anything. If Mikal is mine, he'll learn how to make due, being a castoff."
"But what can I do in the meantime?"
"You're pregnant by Theo, go back to him. This new child is his business, not mine. And STOP writing to me. Stop trying to pull me back into your clutches."
Verla stared, hurt. "But…"
"No. I'm done with you. I'm done with all of this." He stepped away from her, lest she try to touch him again. "I'm done, Verla. Go home. Apologize to Theo. Give him plenty of his own children."
"I…"
"I don't care anymore. I can't."
He didn't even say goodbye. He turned and walked out, his hands aching from the fists he'd made, and he stormed down the steps. His face was so fearful that the barkeep said nothing, and Nina and Kitti stared after him.
"I don't think it worked," Kitti whispered.
\
Zelda walked into her room in good spirits. She and Odelia had gotten some candied almonds and ate them on their way back from the dress fitting, laughing and joking carelessly like old friends. They were heading into her room together to talk about shoes or jewelry, and Zelda gasped and Odelia almost choked when Link startled them, sitting in a chair near the fire.
"Oh Goddesses, you scared me, love!" Zelda said, smiling, until she saw the look on his face and the crumpled letter in his hand. "Odelia, go," she commanded.
Odelia looked at Zelda in surprise, then to Link, and he gave her the slightest of nods. She turned and left quickly, hoping to find Tilly.
"What is it, darling?" Zelda said with a weak smile.
"Verla sent me a letter today."
"Oh."
"I had no clue she was in town."
"Neith…" Something twitched in his jaw, and Zelda swallowed back the lie. "Yes. I didn't tell you."
"Why didn't you, then?" He held up the letter, the one that had gotten away.
"Because… " Zelda felt stupid. Why hadn't she been honest? "I didn't want her bothering you, so close to the wedding."
"Understandable."
He had taken steps towards her. Zelda had backed away in response, fearful of the calm in his voice, and she stumbled and fell into one of her guest chairs.
"So. Verla was in town. With my son. Do you know why?"
"To… see you?"
"Yes. Do you know why she wanted to see me?"
Zelda shook her head. The glow from the coals had turned Link's hair ruddy, and his eyes were almost in shadow, the green from his shirt giving his skin an almost-olive complexion. It was every nightmare, every terror, every horrible moment rolled into one before her eyes and it was real and more terrible than any of them because it was her betrothed and not Ganondorf at all.
"She… wanted me to run away with her. It seems that her son is outed as a bastard. Our son. At least, here in Hyrule." He looked at the envelope now. "She was… forced to sign agreements that she would not lay a claim to your throne through him. Through blackmail, for her taxes."
"Yes." Zelda gripped the arms of her chair. She could feel a command building in her, to will him not to hurt her, but that would only make his anger more terrible. He wouldn't anyway, right?
Right?
"I… went to the accounting room. The takings from the fair… they weren't very impressive, in comparison to her taxes. Your blackmail… is paying for our wedding."
"Link…"
"Why, Zelda? After everything, why couldn't you be honest with me?" And now he looked so heartbroken that she felt tears in her eyes.
"I d… I didn't want to chance it. You know I hate her, you know I… know I would rather… risk your anger than… than have you see her!"
"Well, you've got both." He sighed, and chucked the letter into the fire. "I've told you, again and again, that you were my queen, my life now. How could you doubt that? How… why didn't you just trust me?"
"I… it's not I didn't trust you, but… I don't trust her, I don't trust her at all, and I didn't know what kind of trap she could lay for you."
"A trap," he said, shaking his head. "But you could have told me. We could have decided this together. We're supposed to rule this place. Are you going to make every decision behind my back? Am I simply a puppet for you? Just a cockstand?"
"No…"
"Then why do you keep treating me like one?"
He got down on one knee before her, and Zelda relaxed, his face solemn. "I would do anything for you. That has been my life for the past year, two years almost."
He looked at her stomach and touched it. "Is … are you even… or is it just another lie?"
Zelda cleared her throat. "I am. And it's yours. You're the only one… I'm… I've…"
He stood and straightened, looking at his hands, then her.
"Link, I'm sorry," she whispered, through her tears.
"So am I," he answered, walking past her.
"Where are you going?" she called. "Link?"
But he ignored her.
\
He fitted Epona with her gear. He packed a saddlebag with some feed, another with some food he'd taken from the kitchens, easily done with such commotion. All this money (Verla's money) was going to waste. No longer could he bring himself to care or think. He wanted out. His clothes felt itchy and stupid, and surely he was going soft at the edges. He needed to be away, to be back in the wild and not trapped in a brick cell. He'd known this feeling for months and thought it was just something else, but now he knew it wasn't. He never belonged there.
He and Epona rode out without another word to the stablehands. He considered, then headed south, towards the open fields and the water. He could still ride on his fame, he was certain he could get a boat for near-nothing.
He rode fast, for as long as Epona could stand it, and when she grew tired he walked alongside of her, wanting to stretch his legs. The air was clean and smelled fresh, of rain and new leaves. The sun was still bright overhead. It was a good sign, he thought, and that his move now was right. Zelda could—
No, he couldn't think of her now.
His chest ached. His shoulders and back ached from the tension. Soon his legs were sore from walking, and his boots were pinching his feet (the fancy ones that she—). He headed towards the trees, the woods, his mind circling with dark thoughts that he was trying to keep from landing. He could not bear to think of either woman now.
Soon they were deep in the woods, following game trails and minor paths. Epona lapped at a running stream, and Link sat on an old stump next to it, staring at the water. He did not move, even when Epona nudged him with her snout, and snorted in frustration.
She settled down in the largest clear space she could find, resting close to him. They sat for hours, the air growing chill and the sun slowly sinking. But he would not move.
\
Zelda was trying to be optimistic. Surely, Link would come back and she would beg his forgiveness, that she was a stupid girl who was so scared of their love that it made her do foolish things. Why hadn't she thought to say any of that earlier? He would frown, mutter a few curses about how she needed to trust him, and then she would debase herself for him, take him in her mouth until he was satisfied.
But that only left her feeling sick and ashamed, probably the kind of trick Verla would use.
She'd sat, stunned, when he'd walked out. She didn't even think to command him to stop, or to come back. She paced her room for an hour, until Tilly came bursting in with Odelia breathless behind her.
"He knows, he knows everything," was all Zelda managed to say, and she burst into tears and crumpled on the floor, screaming and sobbing.
Together, Odelia and Tilly had hauled her to the bed and laid her down, removing her shoes. Zelda turned away from them in a flash, hissing for them not to touch her, to leave her alone. She wrapped her arms around her lower belly and trembled, ignoring the pots of warm tea and water that Tilly brought up, unsure of what to do.
She fought off sleep. Link was gone, and she was under duress; the dreams were bound to be terrible. She laid there until her tears dried up, staring out the window, but even then she still felt like crying. It hadn't helped at all. After a few hours of staring at the blackness of the sky, she fell asleep.
She was running through the castle, terror in her heart. But whenever she looked over her shoulder, Ganondorf was there, nearly within grabbing distance, but not quite. She was screaming, but wasn't making a sound. She was running up a flight of stairs, round and round, trying to get to her room at the top, but her room wasn't really at the top of a tower, but there was the door and she flung herself through it, slamming the door behind her, tears running down her face. Safe, she would be safe, but there was the laughter, loud and monstrous.
"Please," she whispered, "please, save me."
And then the pounding, and the roaring
"LET ME IN, LET ME IN"
and the wood of the door was creaking, starting to splinter apart
"Oh please," she whispered to herself. "Please."
The eye, that baleful, golden eye, was staring at her through the split in the wood.
Zelda backed into the corner, curling around herself. Her body ached. She was weak.
And then the door crumbled away into nothingness, and he stood there. Zelda stared at him pathetically.
Ganondorf swung his sword back and forth slowly, his teeth gleaming as he walked towards her. Zelda was already against the wall; she couldn't move any further away.
"Please," she asked, but he grabbed her by the arm and pulled her up, dislocating her shoulder. Zelda shrieked. Ganondorf flung her down on her back and pinned her down with his boot on her dislocated arm, too close to the shoulder. Zelda sucked at air in her pain, but it didn't feel like enough was getting in.
She thought of Link and whimpered anew, closing her eyes. Something sharp pricked at her stomach, where her son grew. In the dream, she knew it was a boy.
"I'm so sorry," she whispered. "I'm so sorry…"
She opened her eyes and realized, with horror, that the dream was able to get worse. So much worse. Link was standing over her with orange eyes, holding his own sword.
"I am, too," he growled, forcing the sword through her belly.
Zelda was screaming, and it woke her up. Her throat was raw from it. In a panic, she checked her stomach, and between her thighs, but there was only sweat. But her stomach was cramping up. Zelda sobbed in relief, her face in her hands. But Link was still gone.
She looked around and saw Tilly standing by, her face pale in alarm.
"Your Majesty, are you alright?"
"No," Zelda sighed, curling up on herself. "I am not." She didn't ask if anyone had seen or heard from Link. She couldn't bear it. Tilly hesitated, waiting for dismissal.
"Why did I do it?" she said quietly. "Why didn't I… deal with it myself, or… let him know, or… "
Tilly didn't respond. She moved slowly to the bed and touched Zelda's shoulder, then stepped back again.
"Permission to speak frankly?"
Zelda thought, then shrugged.
"You are… a little scared of this woman, still. That it will all fade? Maybe? That you've had too much of a good thing for too long?"
Zelda considered. "Maybe." Tilly hesitantly touched Zelda's hair, then started to pet it, carefully. Zelda sniffled.
"You… have work to do, Your Majesty. You wanted to pretend all was normal."
"I did… but… I can't focus. I can't concentrate."
"I understand."
"All I can do is lay here, and ask myself… why?"
Tilly sat with Zelda for a while, both of them silent.