Twenty-Eight: Healing Hands

In Which People Tiptoe

There was a hole in his hand. An honest-to-Farore hole, dark and still oozing blood that glistened in the firelight. He'd raised his arms in an instinctive attempt to block the lizalfos' spear, and it had caught his right hand and gone all the way through.

Better than his left. At least he couldn't feel it, even if it was still pretty gross to look at. He kept glancing at it though, drawn by the same morbid curiosity that had made him want to prod and poke the holes the demon had made in his leg when it had stabbed him that one time.

'So gross,' Eruta said as she inspected it, sat beside him on one of the log benches that framed the firepit. 'But mendable.'

'Mendable?' Link repeated, and she flashed him a quick grin.

She dropped his hand and wriggled her fingers at him, and he watched as flickers of green light danced along her hands, making the webbing translucent and her scales gleam. It reminded him of Ganondorf's power, but Eruta's sparks were green not gold and less…prickly. They swayed over her hands like ripples of water; he sat and watched, transfixed.

'A few lucky Zora have healing abilities, see,' Eruta explained, flexing her fingers as the light fizzled out. 'Mine aren't great – haven't practiced enough or whatever – but they'll help. Then we'll wrap you up and you'll heal in time.'

She took his hand again and hooked her fingers under his glove; he twitched away and she narrowed her eyes at him, grabbing his forearm with her other hand.

'This'll hurt a bit,' she said, 'but I need you to hold still.'

Link grimaced, discomfort crawling down his spine. 'Yeah, that's…not the problem.' He looked down at his hand, throat a little tight as his chest clenched in dread, then sighed. 'Okay, fine, do it. I don't want to die from an infection.'

'Don't worry,' Eruta said, and winked. 'I'll be gentle.'

He offered her a half-hearted laugh that petered out into silence, his chest squeezing and squeezing with shame and self-consciousness. Somewhere in the back of his head, a cold disdain filtered through his skull and he shuddered, hunching his shoulders up towards his ears.

Eruta peeled the glove off slowly, a centimetre at a time, and paused as his wrist came into view, a little blood mingling with the demon's markings where they lay warped across the thick scar at the base of his hand. She made a soft noise he couldn't peg the meaning of, touching the scar gently.

'What the heck caused that?' she asked, and he shrugged a shoulder.

'Oh, y'know…'

He didn't offer an answer, and she eyed him with curiosity and suspicion before continuing her endeavour of removing his glove. Piece by piece, his hand came into view, stained with red and full of hole. Link's morbid curiosity returned, and he watched the edges of said hole pull and shift, the fleshy, pinkish inside of his hand occasionally lit up as the fire sputtered.

Nausea caught him by surprise and he averted his gaze, clearing his throat softly. Eruta was right: so gross.

'Man, you are not even flinching,' she said, as she flipped his hand over and inspected the smaller hole on the opposite side, which had mostly 'closed' as his skin fell back into place. 'How high is your pain threshold?'

'Not very high, actually,' he said, and chuckled feebly at her incredulous look. 'I just don't have any feeling in this hand. Can't even use it.'

Eruta peered at him, pupils shifting in size, then pursed her lips and nodded. 'Someone did a shit job of reattaching it, didn't they?'

Link laughed at that, even as the demon's annoyance soured in his mouth. 'Yes, yes they did.'

Tutting, she twisted his hand back and forth one more time before she closed her eyes, took a breath, and scrunched up her face in concentration. He watched her call the sparks to her fingers again and wondered what they felt like.

Somehow, watching the green-blue ripples pass over his hand, he thought it might feel like water running over his skin, cool and soothing.

Said ripples coalesced over the hole, lighting up the fleshy insides again. The ooze of blood slowed then stopped, the swelling skin around the wound lost some of its puffiness, and he wondered if the pain might have lessened, had he actually been able to feel it.

Abruptly, Eruta gasped and dropped his hand. 'What the—?!'

'What? What's wrong?' Link asked, glancing between her and his hand – still holey – as she visibly shuddered.

'Your…your tattoos are moving,' she said. 'What the fuck?'

Link shoved his hand behind his back and fought a smile as the demon's laughter rang in his ears. 'Oh. Yeah.'

'Is that…normal?' Eruta stared at him, then leaned to one side in an attempt to see round him to his hand.

'Uh, yeah?'

She narrowed her eyes and grabbed for his arm. He shifted out of reach, feeling heat creep up his neck into his cheeks. Trying to be subtle, he tugged at his scarf to adjust it, making sure the marks on his neck weren't visible.

'I'm insulted,' the demon said, its amusement making his skin crawl. 'Trying to hide my glory? I don't think so.'

Cold shot through his throat and down his arm, and before he could stop it the demon had shoved his arm towards Eruta, hand outstretched for her to peer at. Link fought, briefly, then coughed as it gave the markings on his neck a warning squeeze.

So, he bit his tongue and bore her scrutiny, waiting for her curiosity to run its course.

They both watched the marks, dark as tar in the moonlight, squirm in his skin. He wished they were just tattoos.

'That's so weird,' Eruta said, tracing a branch of the markings with a gentle finger then pulling away when Link twitched, unable to help himself. 'I've never seen anything like it. You Hylians are making moving tattoos now? That's pretty wild.'

He licked his lips, mouth uncomfortably dry. 'Uh, yeah, sure.'

Footsteps signalled someone's approach, before Meridan set himself down on the bench on Link's other side. He smiled a little tiredly, the rows of glowing spots along his head blinking slowly in a different rhythm to Eruta's.

'How's the hand?' he asked, and she made a small, sheepish kind of noise.

'It's stopped bleeding,' Link replied. 'I think.'

He glanced at his hand to check, and it seemed to be true. The hole was definitely still there, but overall the thing looked a little better. He just wanted people to stop staring.

'Well that's…good,' Meridan said, and exchanged a glance with Eruta, who took a deep breath that she released as a blustery sigh.

She patted Link's hand then sat back, glancing towards the wagon. 'And that's about all from me, tonight.' When she looked back at him her expression was apologetic and a little embarrassed. 'Like I said, I'm pretty shit at healing. You're gonna have to do a little healing of your own, but I'll give it another go tomorrow.'

'Oh, well that's fine,' Link said, watching her deflate a little. 'We can just wrap it up, check on it every now and then…I don't use it, anyway, so it's all good.'

Eruta pouted. 'It's not though, is it? You've got a massive hole in your hand and I should be able to heal it but I can't.'

'Practice makes perfect,' Meridan said, which earned him a sour expression. He reached around Link and nudged her shoulder lightly. 'Come on, help me find the bandages.'

'Be right back,' she said to Link, and they both stood and headed for the wagon.

He stared down at the hole for a few moments longer, then let his arm drop and looked out over the camp. A little way away, just on the edge of the fire's sputtering ring of light, Zelda stood facing out toward the fields, while Ganondorf wasn't anywhere in sight. He was probably still pacing circles around the camp, as he had been since Eruta came back from the copse with him.

He hadn't said much, but his Triforce mark had been a blinding beacon for a little while so Link knew something had happened. Taking care of the other lizalfos, probably, but that didn't seem like it'd be enough to ruffle Ganondorf's feathers.

And his restless pacing said his feathers had been ruffled.

A laugh crawled through Link's mind and he scowled as his hairs stood on end, cold slithering down his arm like someone had shoved an ice cube down his sleeve. He shuddered and scowled harder.

'What?'

'Oh, nothing,' the demon said, its grin tugging at his lips. He clenched his jaw. 'Your cluelessness is as amusing as always.'

He tightened his jaw some more, feeling his nostrils flare as he exhaled harshly. He wouldn't rise, he wouldn't. He didn't care what the demon knew that he didn't, and he didn't care that it was baiting him. He never should've talked to it in the first place; he knew that only made things worse.

Shaking out his arm, he stood and made his way to Zelda's side. She didn't acknowledge his approach, but he didn't mind, standing quietly next to her for a few moments. The fields surrounding them were dark, but every so often patches would gleam with gentle moonlight, a patch of silvery light in the syrupy darkness. He glanced at the sky, and it glittered with faint stars, the moon herself just a pale crescent, like the sky was smiling down on them lopsidedly. He couldn't decide if the thought felt comforting or malicious.

'How's the hand?' Zelda asked eventually, as a breeze rustled through the grass and the leaves of the copse, a gentle rushing that prompted Link to take a deep breath and close his eyes.

'Could be worse,' he said, lifting said hand over his head to see if he could see the moonlight through it.

He couldn't, which was a little disappointing until he realised how unpleasant it would've been.

Zelda made a noncommittal noise in the back of her throat. 'Lucky it wasn't your left.'

'Yeah, that would've sucked.'

Another moment of silence passed. She sighed softly but didn't say anything, so Link went back to watching the fields. The bokoblins had run off or passed out, it seemed, which he was glad for. As long as they weren't sneaking towards their camp under cover of night, he didn't care what they were up to.

He dwelled on the image of that – bokoblins crawling on their bellies through the grass, lying in wait around the campsite – and shuddered, then scanned the nearby grass for the tell-tale shine of eyes or blades.

Nothing. They could be alone, for all he knew, nothing and nobody for miles and miles.

That thought wasn't so pleasant either.

'Is Ganondorf alright?' he asked, to distract himself and because he was genuinely concerned, and Zelda's face twisted.

'How should I know?' she said, turning towards him briefly so that he could feel the full force of her disdainful expression.

He paused, then shrugged. 'You…feel stuff, right? You know how he's feeling?'

She didn't reply for a moment, and he knew she knew how much that bothered him, however much he might try to hide the feeling from her and pretend everything was fine. His stomach twisted, face heating.

'Though I'd really rather not,' Zelda said, 'I do know. And I'm not going to say anything to you, because it's a gross enough violation of privacy when I'm doing it unintentionally. Telling you intentionally would be even worse.'

'Well, okay.' Link glanced over his shoulder, just in time to see Ganondorf passing by the firepit on another round, his steps short but fervent. 'But something's up with the guy, it's not hard to tell.'

Zelda sighed harshly through her nose. 'So go ask him yourself. I'm sure he'd appreciate you showing your concern.'

'Maybe I will,' he replied, and she clicked her tongue.

Of course she knew he wasn't sure he would actually ask, or if he even felt brave enough to approach Ganondorf while he was in whatever state he was in. There was an intimidating intensity to his pacing, and Link was hesitant to approach. He tried to quell the feeling before Zelda could pick up on it, but it was probably useless. He'd need to be some emotionless automaton for her to not get a read on him.

She sighed again, and it felt pointed, like he was bothering her somehow.

'Alright, I'll get out of your hair,' he said, and felt a little offended when she didn't disagree.

But then he chastised himself. He was being inconsiderate – he knew she hated her abilities, and that his reacting poorly probably made her feel bad. She'd probably been putting up with people like him her whole life.

'Maybe you should put her out of her misery,' the demon muttered, twitching his fingers.

He grabbed his wrist and laughed awkwardly when Zelda's head snapped in his direction. 'Yup, I'll go. You should…you should try to get some sleep.'

Tightening his grip on his wrist, he wandered back to the benches and sat, waiting for Eruta and Meridan to return with the promised bandages. It still amused him, how much the demon hated Zelda, because he'd never seen anyone get under its non-existent skin quite like she did. It made her a target, sure, and he worried about that, but he enjoyed how annoyed it got just by her presence.

Even if it could leach over into his own feelings.

'It won't be so funny when I make you bathe in her blood,' the demon said.

Link snorted, even as the thought knotted his insides. 'Whatever you say.'

Cold crept across his neck as if someone had just blown on it, and all his hairs stood on end. 'Just you wait.'

It was a promise, he knew that, and he was glad he didn't have to dwell on it as Eruta emerged from the wagon again, a roll of bandages held aloft triumphantly.

'Knew we had some somewhere,' she said as she clomped down the wagon steps, Meridan following more sedately. 'Give us your hand, then, and we'll heal it the old-fashioned way.'

'Heal away,' Link said, stretching it out to her.

She bounded closer, unwinding the bandages as she went, and the demon tugged on his arm, dragging it out of her reach. She paused, narrowing her eyes at him, and he fought against its hold, the strain making his whole arm tremble as he forced his hand into her grasp.

'Here we go, then,' she said, and upended her waterskin over his hand.

She spent a moment scrubbing the drying blood away, dabbing the wound itself gently despite Link's continued assurances it didn't hurt, then started wrapping. He took hold of his elbow and held it steady, the demon's malicious amusement clogging his throat as they played tug-and-war with his arm, and by the time Eruta secured the end of the bandages he felt entirely worn out.

'Thanks,' he said, 'I appreciate it.'

She offered him a little smile, much softer than her usual sharp grin. 'No problem. I just wish I could do more. Come see me in a few years – maybe I'll be able to actually heal holes in hands in one go.'

The demon snorted and the sound left Link, and when she glanced at him he froze in horror, until she gently thwacked the side of his head in mock offence.

'No need to look so amused about that,' she said.

'It wasn't that, I promise,' he replied, but he could tell she didn't believe him.

He wanted to protest more, but he didn't know how to explain that it had been the demon in his arm laughing at the thought of him still being alive in a few years' time.

They were both distracted, thankfully, by the arrival of Ganondorf, who didn't spare them so much as a glance as he paced by again. Link lifted his newly bandaged hand in greeting, but dropped it when it wasn't acknowledged.

Eruta leaned closer and lowered her voice. 'Is he alright?' she asked, and he pressed his lips together.

'I don't know,' he replied, and stood.

Jogging after Ganondorf, he caught up with him halfway between the camp and the copse and fell into step next to him.

'Everything alright, buddy?' he asked.

Ganondorf gave no sign of having heard. There was a frown etched into his face, scoring deep lines across his skin, and his eyes were distant and glowing. Literally. The gold had turned molten, gleaming softly against the deep brown of his face as if lit up from within.

Which they were, Link supposed, glancing down at the mark on Ganondorf's right hand. It was still alight, pulsing and bright enough that he didn't have to think too hard about where he was putting his feet as they moved among the trees.

He tried again. 'Ganondorf?'

When he, again, got no response, he reached out and tapped Ganondorf's shoulder lightly. A hand shot out, grabbing his wrist and squeezing tightly, the Triforce and Ganondorf's eyes flashing. Holding very still, Link tried to think of something to say but couldn't, so he just waited, as the blood throbbed in his hand where that steel grip remained vice-like and mildly painful.

For a second, just one second, he thought Ganondorf was going to smite him. Call on the power of the goddesses and fry him where he stood.

But then he took a deep breath and let go. He turned away, but not before Link saw his face crumple slightly, with a shame and fear he himself knew all too well. The kind that came with doing something wrong, or something awful, and not being in control when it was done.

'Hey,' he said softly, folding his arms and pinning his hands under his armpits. 'What's up? You seem…a little on edge.'

He gave a short laugh with no feeling behind it. 'I am trying to sort my thoughts. I would appreciate being left alone for the time.'

'Sure, of course, but you know you can talk to us, right? If you ever want to, that is.' Link looked him up and down for a moment, seeing a Ganondorf he'd never seen before. Hunched and clearly rattled, the regal shell cracked. 'Sometimes it's not better to be alone with your thoughts.'

'I appreciate your concern,' he replied, and Link ignored the slight clenching in his stomach as he echoed Zelda's words. 'I just need a little more time, until I know this is back under control.'

He lifted his hand, the marking still glowing, and Link nodded.

'Okay,' he said, 'yeah, alright. I don't think any of us'll be sleeping much tonight, so if you do want to talk, you know where to find me.'

He jabbed a thumb over his shoulder, and Ganondorf nodded, hitching a fleeting grimace of a smile onto his face. Link returned the gesture and made to go back, paused, then walked on. The campfire beckoned, and he didn't know what else to say or do. He wasn't about to push Ganondorf to talk, but he'd made his feelings clear so at least he knew he'd lend an ear, if needed.

The sooner morning came and they left this place, the better. Everything always seemed okay, or at least not as bad, in the sunlight.