The Legend of Zelda, its characters and locations are all property of Nintendo. Any and all OCs and original locations belong to me unless specifically stated to belong to someone else.

The Voice
25 - An Unfair Bargain

The air inside the Grand Cathedral was thick and heavy, the murmur of the gathered crowd echoing off the stone to be amplified despite the priests' best attempts at hushing them, trying to appeal to the Goddess for their silence, trying to salvage the dignity of the great ceremony that was to take place that day. Not even the repeated calls for quiet by the imposing-looking military commanders, their chest plates polished to a sheen, could still the onlookers, who were crammed into the stands and pews, clinging to the pillars, desperate to catch a glimpse of the dignitaries...as well as the subject of the ceremony itself.

After all, an event like this only happened once in a lifetime. Even the King of Hyrule was in attendance, seated in a great chair by the pulpit, surrounded by his servants and Sheikah bodyguards. At his side was his daughter, looking supremely bored by the lack of events, covering her ears to protect them from the sheer noise of the crowd.

Link didn't notice any of this. His attention was focused solely on the very centrepiece of the Cathedral. The stone itself was rather unremarkable—grey and irregular, not even polished. The only bit of decoration was the Triforce symbol carved into its base, but even that wasn't nearly as ostentatious as the gold-painted depictions of it on the various decorations in the cathedral.

No, why would they decorate it when the Master Sword would always be far more eye-catching to any beholder? The blade shone, reflecting the solitary shaft of sunlight coming through the vaulted ceiling. The light bounced off the equally shiny chest plates of the knights gathered around the stone in which the sword was embedded. Flanked by their squires, the men and women selected for the ceremony looked both nervous and excited at the honour.

Link frowned, glancing up at his father's face. He'd shaved that morning at the behest of Link's mother, claiming it was no good to appear scruffy before the King, the Princess, and everyone else of importance in Hyrule. There had been a brief disagreement, but his father had grudgingly removed his beard, moustache, and whiskers, all the while loudly grumbling about it.

He looked...strange. Almost naked. Link kept catching himself wondering who this strangers in his father's armour was before remembering it. It had taken a while to stop giggling at the insulted look his father sported whenever he caught Link staring.

Link's father noticed him staring, glancing down at his son with a quizzical expression.

"Still don't recognise me, huh?" he asked quietly under the murmurs of the crowd. "I promise, Link, it's still me."

"I know, Father," Link murmured back, cheeks colouring as he instinctively ignored the mocking looks and laughs his words drew from the other squires. They were all older and far more experienced than him, but he was a squire too! He'd just started, granted, but he had the exact same duties as they did! It wasn't his fault he wasn't strong enough to carry his father's sword or shield yet!

"I still say you should have picked Eren for this," the female knight next to his father murmured. "What if you're chosen and he can't keep up?" Her squire, a boy clearly more than a few years older than Link, gave the boy a derisive look. "Seven is too young—"

"I have every confidence Link can handle his duties as my squire," his father said firmly, giving Link a gentle smile. "Even if he doesn't recognise me at the moment."

Blushing, Link looked away. He didn't need his father to defend him; he was more than capable of doing that himself. He just didn't want to draw attention to himself right now—the high priest looked just about done with the rabble-rousers flooding his cathedral. He felt his father's hand on his shoulder, the weight quite comforting despite his annoyance.

"Looks like it's about to start," his father whispered as the high priest finally rose from his seat just behind the King and stepped forward, slamming the butt of his staff on the floor, the metal tip producing a sound so loud it made Link's ears hurt. Even the King winced at the loud sound, a look of annoyance crossing his face.

It had the desired effect, though, as the entire cathedral fell into a complete silence, only broken by a stray cough or leather shoes scuffing against the floor.

Link let his father's hand guide him backwards, so he was standing behind and slightly to the right of his father. The proper squire's position in this. Link straightened his tunic, which bore his family's crest, and puffed out his chest. He was going to get the look of it right, if nothing else!

...his enthusiasm for the whole thing lasted for about five minutes, during which the high priest's dry croak of a voice droned on and on about the Goddess this and destiny that. A lot of duty was involved, and very little fighting the enemies of the realm. It was boring! He couldn't see the entirety of his father's face from his position, but he could see the slight shine in his eye. Coupled with the way his fists were clenching at his sides, Link could tell how excited he was.

How on earth he could be so excited in the face of such a dull speech was beyond Link, so he chose to focus on the sword again instead. There was something...alluring about it. His gaze kept returning to its hilt, wrapped in dark-purple fabric and thread, seemingly moulded by the many hands that wielded it throughout the ages.

"...and so," the high priest said, "after the tragic passing of Ser Kolvar, Champion of Hyrule, we are once more gathered here, in the most holy of places, to choose his successor. Or, rather, should I say, for her to choose his successor."

The crowd murmured as the high priest descended towards the dais on which the Master Sword rested. Coming to stand next to the blade, he slowly turned in a full circle, giving each knight a thorough once-over, as if inspecting them for their worthiness.

"It is a difficult task, finding a Champion's successor," he said. "More often than not, we are humiliated to discover none of our choices are good enough for our beloved Goddess. However, I am confident that, among the twelve of you, our finest knights and defenders, a worthy wielder can be found." He ended his spin at the female knight who'd spoken to Link's father. "Ser Rin, please step forward."

From a distance, she must have looked confident. Link, however, caught the slight hitch in her breath and the small downturn of the corners of her mouth. She covered it up quickly, however, steeling herself as she stepped forward and kneeled in front of the sword. "My life for Hylia and Hyrule," she said firmly as she stood up again and reached out for the sword's hilt.

The crowd (Link included) collectively held its breath as her hands grasped the sword, and she attempted to pull the sword from the stone. It didn't budge. She gave it two attempts, as if the first one hadn't been adequate. Her face was strained, but she gave up only a few seconds later.

"Ah, it would appear you are not our Champion," the high priest said, frowning. "Thank you, Ser Rin."

She bowed her head. "I simply do not measure up," she said, voice wavering slightly. "My apologies for wasting your time, your holiness."

He simply nodded, turning to the next knight as Rin returned to her position, shrugging off her squire's comforting hand. The high priest would go counter-clockwise, then, leaving Link's father for last.

Link's body felt like it was covered in ants, every limb and muscle trembling with excited, barely contained energy. He couldn't wait to see everyone's faces when his father drew the Master Sword in a single motion. It was guaranteed that he'd be the new Champion. Why else would they have him go last? The others were just there to make it more exciting for the onlookers. He wondered if his father was just as jittery as him.

"Ser Kato," the high priest announced, gesturing for the next knight in line to step forward.

"My life for Hylia and Hyrule," Ser Kato announced, his voice betraying his nervousness entirely.

He, too, failed to measure up.

And so it continued as each of the eleven first knights failed to make the Master Sword even move in its stone sheath, each of them looking as if the world was ending when they did not prove worthy of being its wielder. Link couldn't help but give the other squires smug looks as their masters proved unworthy.

However, even his confidence wavered a little when the ancient high priest's eyes landed on his father, and the old man nodded.

"Ser Kerran, please step forward."

Unlike the other knights, there was no waver in his father's voice, and each movement was calm and measured, dignified and betraying not a single iota of the excitement he must have been feeling. Link's heart was beating wildly in his chest as his father kneeled and spoke the customary words.

"My life for Hylia and Hyrule," he announced, much louder than the others had. He turned his head to let his eyes meet Link's, giving his son a nod.

It all went wrong the moment his father's fingers touched the hilt. It was as if the room instantly turned a little darker, the shaft of light taking on a more menacing colour than before. But Link hardly noticed that; he was too focused on the way his father's entire body went rigid, hands seemingly locked around the hilt. Then, he screamed.

It was unlike any other sound he'd ever heard his father make. His grunts of pain or exertion from sparring or training were nothing compared to the sheer agony he heard in his voice as it echoed throughout the cathedral.

And no one did anything, everyone's faces frozen in horror. This wasn't supposed to happen. It had never happened! The sword either rejected or accepted its proposed wielder, either by refusing to move or allowing itself to be pulled from the stone. It wasn't supposed to...to hurt the person who tried to pull it. Even the high priest looked shocked, eyes wide as he just stared at Link's father, fingers clutching his staff.

Whether it was his outrage at no one trying to help, or just a desperate attempt to help his father, Link didn't know, but his feet were moving on their own as he climbed the dais and grabbed his father's waist, pulling and tugging, trying to get him to let go of the sword.

It might have been the weight of his plate armour, or the sword holding him in place; either way, Link might as well have tried to move a mountain for all his father's weight yielded. As he tried with all his might, Link realised his father never stopped screaming, his voice cracking and tearing with the exertion.

Desperation filling him, Link rounded his father's form and, in a moment that anyone else would have considered pure insanity, climbed on top of the stone, trying to push his father away. No movement whatsoever, but it certainly gave him a prime view of his father's face, which was locked in a grimace of nothing but pain.

He had to stop it. He had to save his father!

Not knowing what else to do, he turned around, grabbed what he could of the Master Sword's hilt, between his father's own grip, and pulled with all his might. All at once, it was as if he went blind—all turning dark around him, the sound of his father's scream getting cut off abruptly.

There you are...

He didn't know who spoke. The voice was...strange. Masculine and feminine at the same time, warped. Echoing inside his head, bypassing his ears entirely.

Please, let my father go, he begged.

On one condition...

Please, anything!

Gather your strength, little one, and pull...

Putting his every desire to save his father, to end his torture, into his body, Link pulled.

The next he knew, he was on the floor, staring up at the cathedral ceiling. There was a heavy weight on his chest and stomach, but moving a single muscle would take a gargantuan effort he simply couldn't muster right then. A face appeared above him, blocking the view of the ceiling, quickly joined by others. The knights who's failed, and the high priest. Each looked upset, angry, or confused. But why?

Then he became aware of the noise. Hundreds, thousands of voices all shouting and yelling, desperate to be heard. Some were nearby, angrily arguing amongst themselves.

"...someone help him up! Get water!"

"...you all right, Ser?"

"...squire..."

"...my son?! Where is my son?!"

His father's face appeared then, looking no worse for wear. Worried, eyes wide, growing larger as he crouched down. "Link, can you hear me?"

"Yes...?"

His voice was quiet, but it certainly made the noise die down as his response was relayed to the crowd at large. The relief on his father's face was instant, but he kept glancing at whatever was lying on his chest, fingers reaching out like he was going to pluck it off of him.

"Do you...are you hurt?" was the next question.

There was no pain, as far as Link could tell. His back was getting cold because of the floor, and his hands seemed to be locked tightly around something at chest-height, but he couldn't summon the energy to look down.

"No...?" he responded, wondering why he was voicing his answers like questions. "Why is everyone staring?"

His father's relief disappeared as he glanced once more at Link's chest. "Son...do you realise what you have done?"

"He saved your arse is what he did, Kerran," Rin said, her face an emotionless mask, peering down at him. "Kid, look down at what you're holding."

Even just lifting his head was difficult, but Link was finally able to look down at his chest, his eyes widening when he saw the purple-wrapped hilt of the Master Sword clutched tightly in his hands, the blade turning out to be the weight on his body.

"I...I..." he tried, but couldn't speak, too shocked to get the words out.

"Drew the Master Sword," his father said, kneeling down by his side, sneaking a hand under Link's back and gently lifting him to a sitting position, placing his thigh at Link's lower back to keep him up. Link's fingers refused to release their grip, even when he tried to make them. He couldn't really feel his hands anymore. His knuckles were white from the effort.

"This is ridiculous!" one of the knights exclaimed. "He can't be the Champion! He's a child!"

"It is not for us to question Hylia's will—"the high priest began, but the knight's squire interrupted.

"The sword's taller than him, for pity's sake! He can't even wield it!"

"This is a mistake, surely?!"

"Impossible!"

"Can't be right!"

More and more voices joined theirs as they all decried what had just happened. Frankly, Link wasn't sure how to feel about it himself. He'd just wanted his father to stop hurting. He hadn't meant to...to...draw the sword!

Such was my condition, little one, the voice repeated once more. It was flat, without inflection, without emotion. Your father's life for yours.

But he was still alive, wasn't he? Unless the sword meant something else...that is, if it were the sword that was speaking? He wasn't sure how to feel...

"Can you stand?" his father's voice asked gently in his ear. "Come, let me help you."

Even on his feet, Link found he couldn't let go of the sword, his hands refusing to obey his commands. What he did discover, however, was how light the sword was. It was longer than him, and definitely made of metal, but he could easily lift it with his arms. That had him confused, and he tried to shake it loose from his grip, but that only resulted in him flailing the blade in random directions, which had the knights and high priest quickly dodging out of the way, ducking to avoid getting their heads cut off. Why wouldn't it come off? Why couldn't he let go?!

Our bargain, little one, the voice spoke again, though this time it sounded chiding. No one else could hear it, apparently. It is rude not to give an answer. Do you accept?

He wanted to ask what the bargain was, other than his father's life for his, but all he could think about right then was how he couldn't let go of the sword, and how scared he was.

Yes, yes, I accept, please!

Then we are bound, little one. Until death or disgrace finds you.

His fingers abruptly grew warm, and his grip on the sword slackened until the blade fell to the floor, the metal ringing loudly throughout the cathedral, which had once more fallen silent.

"There," the same knight from before said derisively. "Just a fluke. Probably would've yielded to any of us to get Kerran to let go, so offensive his touch was." He bent down to pick up the sword, his fingers barely an inch away when a small arc of blue electricity jumped from the hilt to his hand. He yelped, jumping back. "What the hell?!"

"Must've been charged, or something," Rin murmured, also trying to pick it up. Another spark. She chuckled and put her shocked finger in her mouth.

It was like a circus, as each of the gathered knights tried their hand at wielding the blade once more, only to be spurned by more sparks. Even a few of the squires attempted to replicate Link's feat, but they too were rejected. In Link's imagination, the sparks that struck them were even bigger.

"Kerran, you give it a try," Rin said, her disappointment from earlier having given way to amusement at the expense of her fellow knights.

"No," Link's father said curtly, shaking his head, his hand on Link's back. "I believe its position on the matter has been thoroughly made clear." He gently pushed Link forward, stopping down to whisper into his son's ear, "Try picking it up again, Link."

He didn't want to. He didn't want to hear that voice in his head again. Didn't want to know what would happen if he was allowed to touch it. But everyone's eyes were trained on him, the other squires in particular looking resentful. Maybe...maybe it'd be worth it, just to prove them wrong.

Everyone held their breaths as Link's hand inched towards the grip, fully expecting (or hoping) that another spark would leap forth from the sword, spurning his touch. Link certainly hoped it would. However, nothing happened. His fingers were allowed to touch the grip, and then wrap around it. The sword allowed itself to be lifted from the floor, growing lighter the moment Link touched it.

Link's vision blurred as tears began to gather in his eyes. He didn't want this. He didn't want the sword, but it had chosen him anyway. Forced him to accept the deal.

There was a commotion somewhere in front of him as the crowd seemed to part. The knights, squires, and even the high priest quickly stepped aside as the tall, imposing form of the King himself appeared, closely followed by one of his bodyguards. Had he looked to the Sheikah, Link would have seen a pair of blood-red eyes studying him intently, but Link's focus was entirely on the sword in his hands, and the utter despair he felt when the King (the King!) looked down at him with a curious expression.

"Your grace," Link's father said, "I apologise for the dist—"

"Is this your son, Ser Kerran?" the King asked.

"Y-Yes, your grace," his father responded, sounding nervous.

Link expected the King to be angry. After all, he'd ruined everything. He was just a squire, not meant to touch the holy blade of Hylia at all! His tears continued to fall as he braced himself, fully expecting a tongue-lashing for what he'd done, if he wasn't immediately imprisoned for...for...well, everything.

He didn't expect the King to crouch down so that their faces were more or less level, the man's eyes searching his face. "What is your name, my boy?" he asked in a soft voice.

"L-Link," he managed to force himself to say. "Y-Your grace," he added, remembering he was speaking to royalty.

"A good name," the King said, nodding. "Why are you crying, Link?"

"I d-didn't...d-didn't mean t-to..." his words refused to come out, so he could only gesture helplessly to the blade still in his hand. "I d-didn't w-want t-to!"

Once more, the King only nodded, smiling sadly. "Are you afraid that you will be punished for this, Link? I promise you, no one is angry about this...at least, not anyone who matters."

"N-No...?"

"No," the King confirmed. "If anything, you are to be commended. Your father was in danger, and no one but you took action to help him. That alone is worth nothing but praise...but it would appear Hylia herself took notice of your bravery." He gestured to the sword. "That blade cannot be wielded by anyone but those considered worthy, after all."

"I d-don't understand..." Link said, sniffling. Snot was beginning to come out of his nose...in front of the King. Mortified didn't even begin to describe how he felt right now.

The King chuckled, and reached into his pocket. Withdrawing a handkerchief that looked more expensive than Link's entire wardrobe, he gently wiped Link's tears away, then handed it to him so he could wipe his nose himself with his free hand.

"Keep that," the King said, standing up to his full height again. "You'll probably need it for the time ahead."

"Sir...?"

"My beloved subjects!" the King's voice bellowed, loud enough so that everyone in the cathedral could hear him. "Our long search is finally over. Months and months of evaluation and preparation has yielded results...albeit somewhat unorthodox results." He chuckled a little at that. "But it is not for us to question the will of the divine; only to serve to the best of our ability. Ladies and gentlemen," he said, placing a hand on Link's shoulder, "I give you the new Champion of Hyrule: Ser Link!"

He didn't expect the roaring applause, didn't expect his name to be chanted by all that were gathered, didn't expect to be paraded around the cathedral, held aloft by the same knights who had moments before doubted him. He could do little but clutch the Master Sword tightly, wondering what he'd done so wrong to deserve this.

By the time they left the cathedral and were able to head home, it was dark. The moon had risen, bathing the city in a pale, gentle light. Link's arms were linked around his father's neck, clinging to him, blearily blinking his eyes to avoid falling asleep. The Master Sword, placed in its ornate scabbard was an uncomfortable weight on his back, continually reminding him of the utter disaster today had been. He wondered if his father was angry with him for stealing a role that should have been his, but he found it impossible to actually ask the question.

His father's arms tightened around him, adjusting his weight to be more comfortable. "You did well today, son," he said quietly. "I am so proud of you."

"Mmmhmhm..."

Nonsense. Link wasn't even able to speak right now, too exhausted for his words to cooperate.

"We have a lot of work ahead of us," his father continued. "There is so much for you to learn. There'll be a lot of scrutiny as well, a lot of judgement. They'll be looking at you closely, now. But don't worry, I have a plan. I've already sent word to an old friend. With luck, he'll be amenable to my idea."

He was quiet for a long while, until a chuckle came over, which shook his entire body. "Oh, no…" he whispered.

"Mmmwhat?" Link murmured sleepily.

"Just remembered that I have to explain all this to your mother," his father said, more than a little hint of fear in his voice. "She's going to kill me."

On that, Link could agree, even half-asleep.

A little flashback-interlude-chapter-thingy this time around. Not canon-compliant at all, I'm sure, but hey...