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Matters of the State

Chapter Thirty-Six

"Of where?"

"A castle in the southern province, Majesty." What a... strange question that. I pause my steps down the corridors of my palace to look towards the young woman following me. Without both the Prince Ralph and my daughter both announcing her as the Oracle of Ages, I certainly wouldn't recognize her as such. Even with a clean face and fresh set of cloths, she does indeed command a sort of attention, but it does not strike me as the same mystic feel standing before her counterparts- the Oracles of Seasons and Secrets- roused within me. I can believe her a noble woman without a doubt, well bred and mannered, but Oracle... It seems odd.

"My Lady, I assure you, there is no such place in my land."

"None at all?" My but this seems an odd discussion we're having. I would have thought it would be a matter of the now forgone wedding she would want addressed while trailing me down the hallways, but instead I find her questioning after the rooster of Hyrule's Nobility.

"Not since I was a man shy years younger than your Prince. You have my word on that."

"Who was he then?" Goodness me, child, I can hardly make to turn away and continue on my path before she fires yet another question at me. For all her presence and manners she doesn't quite know when she has been dismissed, and at this moment although I know it unwise to tempt an Oracle's insult, I am becoming rather impatient myself. This morning I awoke with only reasonable anxiety due only to the absence of the Hero of Time. But once the bells rang the world was put right; I had a settled, well-spoken man to become my son-in-law, my court was relatively free from any damaging gossip aside from what might provide the accent for Zelda's gown, and a Hero returning from weeks away to speak of the ease of the gods in the heavens above. Now, mere hours later, the wedding seems unsalvageable, my child is distraught beyond measure, my court is building itself into a blind frenzy, the Hero of Time is causing a mutinous scare, and I am being followed relentlessly by a very sharp-tongued young woman. My patience wear thin!

"Georg." Ah… even after all these years it still hurts to say that name. "A Knight of the former King; a man with unbridled loyalty and unquestionable honour. Many said the goddess Farore smiled upon him as a holy man for the years he protected the centre of her cult. He was caught on the wrong side of the war years ago however, and died with his fort." A good, noble man; one with the eyes of a cold beast when roused and grey as slate when in a state of calm. A truly wild man, yet with a heart of gold punctured by my own general's arrow.

"Had he no family? No nephews or sons who would rebuild his keep?" What a bothersome child this Oracle can be. I do not know whether I would find her this irritating at any other time, although the era she asks after is indeed painful and disturbing for me to revisit. For that matter, why does she not simply visit it herself? Oracle indeed…

"There were rumors of his wife being with child for many months of the war. Regardless of whatever the truth was, she died on the battle field." And there were too many amongst the dead for any man to stomach searching for a single child to fit any rumored age. The entire fort was razed that night; those who did not flee to safety likely did not survive… It was a very black night, one of the many blights across my old memory…

"No other family? No nephews or elder sons, brothers even to ever try taking his place once peace returned?" I cannot help myself, and simply stand here staring at her. Somehow, I cannot help but find this behavior most intrusive, if it not obvious that this subject displeases me at this time then I will have to question whether or not she is making proper use of her eyes. I am not hiding anything; I am making things quite clear in fact.

"Lady Oracle, there is no Lord of Faron Fief. My horse was not swift enough to catch the fleeing Lady that night her husband died. Several arrows found their marks instead. If there was ever any son, be it male or female, it died in the halls of its ancestors, on the field with its father, or in the arms of the mother who fled with it. Good day." And with that, I simply turn on my heel and at last hope to be rid of her meddlesome questions.

"Fled into the Kokiri woods…"

"…Oracle." I cannot keep the exhausted sigh from my words as, once more, I stop and turn to face her.

"Answer me one last question, Majesty, and I shall leave you to your duties." As though I am in a position to argue. Rather, is it that she should not be in the position to be making demands and setting conditions…

"Speak then…" How tiring these memories can be for an old man such as I…

"What were the colours of the Lady of Faron Fief?"

…That… requires a bit of thought. I know I could always deny the answer, keep myself from delving to deeply into memories best left to collect dust in the resesses of my mind. But, of course, I do not work that way, to find the answers too old questions is a challenge of sorts. Like an old tome left untouched in the Castle Library, I can practically feel the pages of my memory open up. Old, age-stained pages shake off the dust collected over the years of misuse, and I search unbidden for the information she seeks.

"I saw her only once before that terrifying night…" I admit softly. And for a moment, I can almost believe myself to be in the bitter years of my youth again, standing in the Market Place of the fief once more and engaged in conversation with a beautiful woman of spun gold. I hadn't even known she was the Lady at the time; she dressed modestly despite the wealth of her husband's hold.

"She had hair the colour of sunlight," Yes, she was sunlight I suppose. And her husband a wall of hardened stone, willing to do the utmost to defend her honour and her glory. He was a man of breadth and strength. I remember that as well, his grey eyes and dark hair dusted with silver.

"And her eyes were a brilliant blue…" That's right, that same evening I dined in the company of them both in the small tavern under the Inn I was staying at. I hadn't known their rank at all until that point. "In the light of the candles, they would turn such a shade that…"

"One would think them violet…" Oh… Oh, Farore… I cannot… hardly feel a thing, all I can see are those eyes, only set in a different face. The jewels from a delicate necklace set into a heavy ring… "Thank you, Majesty. Please, forgive my intrusion onto your most valuable time."

I can hardly even see her as the Oracle gives a low curtsey in the plain gown of blue and white another of the noble ladies within the castle- perhaps even Zelda- has allowed her to borrow- if not keep. By the gods, how could the mothers above be so cruel?

Or rather, as the Oracle turns and at last takes her leave of me, I find myself once again walking the path I had been a moment before. But now I find the anger I was harvesting to have now dispersed, not to be replaced with melancholy so much, but rather… Why, I don't even know how to describe it exactly, I'm almost giddy, but at the same time more stunned than had a random child amongst my servants run up and slapped me full across the face…

How cruel… or maybe… how kind?

After all these years and trials come by, I still find it all but ironic how there is one thing above all which I have never become properly accustomed too; and that is waking up filthy. This isn't to say I'm especially neat or tidy, or that I don't like getting dirty through hard work, but it's one of those things I just can't get over. Even as a boy, I would still be as willing as anyone else to go rolling along down a hill, but something about knowing I'm just lying in mine or something else's filth just- eugh!

I just can't stand it, even now, when all I want is to sleep, I just can't stop focusing on the clammy feel of my hands, or the way the front and back of my shirt are sticking to me. I don't know of anything more unpleasant, even with my legs sore from days in the saddle, shoulder aching after having the straps of my sword dig into it constantly without respite.

By Din's wrath, it's just creepy and sickening. If only my limbs didn't feel like dead weights… I'm not even hungry- even after not having had a full and proper meal since arriving in the Sanctuary weeks ago; I just want to be clean.

But it just takes so much effort to roll over… I stifle a groan as I don't even open my eyes as I move, cracking them open just once to find the room darkened anyways, only one or two candles burning. I have to stop moving for a moment though, wincing as even my fingers are sore and pleading for rest as I put weight on them trying to sit up.

"You needn't push yourself so soon, Sir Link." No, too hard, much too hard. I just feel myself dropping back down onto the bedding, knowing the blankets aren't even up over me as my head just sinks back down onto the pillows. It's a combination of hearing my name and feeling how matted and filthy my hair is as it presses against my skin again which makes me force myself to sit up properly.

I hate… getting up when I'm still tired, I really, truly do. I don't think there's anything else on a daily basis which is as annoying or infuriating as having to force myself out of bed when it's the very last thing I want to do. Perhaps the only thing worse is having to be civil at the same time…

"Well, if you insist…" And I think being civil is about my only option at the moment. Turning towards the sound of the voice, I can make out the blurred and discolored figure of His Majesty. He's sitting in one of the two chairs set up across the chamber from my bed… Damn it.

Stifling a groan as I force myself to sit up a bit more and scoot back on the bed, my shoulders along with every individual joint in my spine all ache in protest to moving at all. Resting against the headboard of my bed however, I try to force my eyes to focus in the dim lights. Damn, is it night time or is the room just dark? I can only see one candle lit from where I am, although it might actually count as two since it's a stick which branches off from itself…

"You'll have to forgive me, I never even noticed…"

"What are you talking about?" It hurts to speak, my throat feeling raw and my mouth dusty as though I haven't had a drink in several days. And I think my tone just threw civility out the window… Damn it I am so tired… Why is he in here? I just want a bath and bed… I just want to sleep…

"Could you tilt your head to the side for a moment, please, Sir Link?" What in Din's blazing hells is going on? Still reclined in his seat, his Majesty gives a soft chuckle before nodding almost sheepishly to me. "Yes, I know it is an odd request, but please, bare with an old man for a moment…"

Am I going insane, or is this some sort of twisted dream? Either way, my head feels heavy enough to drop off my shoulders anyways, so I just let it fall a bit to the side, humouring him although I haven't the faintest clue what's going on. I don't know what he sees, but I straighten back out as his own eyes widen slightly, and he takes a sharp breath.

"Majesty?" Will someone please tell me what is going on? I don't even know how long I've been asleep already. Has it been a few hours? Only a handful of minutes? Zelda's nowhere to be seen, did I just dream her too? No… my armor and gear are all gone, so she was here, unless someone else came along and took my things from me… Ugh... it hurts to think on too hard…

"You really do have… your mother's eyes."

I think I'm awake now.

"What did you say?" Yes, I know this is the king I'm speaking with, but I can't help it. I don't get up and bow to him, don't try to speak in a courtly tone, or show some sort of respect or fealty for him. I only feel the pain in my body after I've actually moved, practically sitting on one leg as the other one dangles limply over the edge of the bed.

"Her eyes, I remember how they would change colour in the firelight." How can he… be so calm as he says that to me? I don't understand, he just sits there calmly, smiling even behind the silver length of his beard. I know His Majesty is wise, but why does he choose now to be cryptic as well?

"You knew her?"

"In passing, yes."

"And you never said anything about this until now." I nearly bite through my own tongue at this. I have a reputation for disregarding courtly manner, but the king is still the king. He narrows his eyes somewhat as I know I've spoken to harshly, I know I should apologize, but I have a feeling that if I open my mouth again the same tone will come barreling on out. Instead, I actually do bite my tongue, shrinking in on myself almost. I don't need to be proud now; I need to let him tell me what he knows.

"…My parents died during your Majesty's rebellion years ago." The silence started to go on for too long, I guess he wanted me to speak. As I try to put the words together, that stern look in his eyes slowly melts away. Instead, it's replaced with a calm emotion I can't name in this light.

"Tell me, Sir Link," I only just noticed it now; he hasn't called me Hero once yet. Even placing the Honorary of my rank in front of it, this is the closest he's ever come to using just my name. "What is it you in fact know of your parents?"

…Nothing. I know only what an old man once told me. Locked away in the Sacred realm, beyond the door of time for several years which in truth never really did come to pass. An ancient specter found and spoke to me, the first sage of the seven I had to find… I think I was almost disheartening for me to find that he was to be of almost no use to me, only providing me comfort and guidance that one time before vanishing again beyond the door… I had only a fairy to stay with me for the entirety of that harrowing time.

"My father… he was a knight, but I don't honestly know from what part of the Kingdom. He fought in the rebellion and lost his life when his house came under attack." House, that of course could mean anything; he could've actually lorded over an entire hold, or served the man who did. We could even have lived in a small shack on the outskirts of the forest for all the word house really means when speaking in terms of decades.

It's odd really; there are so many records and documents from those terrible years when Hyrule was torn by war. I even live in the presence of the man who emerged victorious from those trials, but I've never actually looked very long or hard into anything available. I suppose it's because the questions are all so vague, I don't even know what either one looked like.

Imagine it, me walking up to Sir Ladekhan and asking him if he remembers ever killing a knight who probably looked a bit like me, or could've looked entirely different. Then asking his name and where exactly he lived, an impossible challenge for one man's memory, one man who might not've even been at the battles my father was present at. For all I know, he could've died in a riding accident before the first arrow was loosed.

"My mother though…" Sweet Din, the margin by which I can claim to know more about her than my father is pitifully small… "She was struck by arrows fleeing the battleground. She died in the Kokiri forest in the presence of the Deku Tree…" I don't even know my own name…

Again, silence. I find myself suddenly itching to speak up, to say something, anything at all. Instead though, I just force myself to keep my peace, I can practically hear the gears in His Majesty's mind grinding against one another as they slowly churn. Sometimes his mind can work as a well oiled machine. Other times, it takes him a long pause of careful consideration to come to a final decision. Some might find this to be an indication of His Majesty's growing age, but for myself, I know in part how valuable it can be to just sit and think things through, regardless of time or anxious listeners.

"Do you… have a map of the area? Around the Kokiri woods, where you were raised I mean." I hadn't noticed it until now, but as his Majesty gestures towards the candles absently, I notice a rolled up parchment sitting by the base of the candlestick. "I have my own here of course, from my campaigns years ago, but, I think it would be wise to compare…"

"Yes, in the desk over—" No, he's the king, I'm the knight, I'll get it. "One moment, please."

Am I even in a condition to walk? Judging by the sudden tremble which runs up my legs as I put weight on them, no, I'm clearly not. His Majesty raises one hand as though to stop me, but I shake my head and wave him away absently.

Sweet Nayru, the room keeps spinning…

I nearly walk right into a chair as I pass from my bedchamber into the sitting room. My desk is just a black blob in the corner as I really would like to know what time of day or night it is. But, I have a feeling that should it prove to be light out, opening the curtains would currently blind me.

It takes a moment or two of shuffling and a muted curse before I finally dig out the flint from one of the drawers in my desk. Scratching at it, the sparks soon enough set the small oil lamp going so I can actually look through the contents of the other drawers.

I already half-expected to find my maps out of order, opening the long thin drawer they're kept in and thumbing through the hefty stack. I've always allowed Timothy to go through them when he needs to, it's not as though I don't trust him not to put them all back when he's finished.

I don't know where or when I found the time for it, but there's another one to add to this collection sitting in Epona's saddle bags. I hadn't thought I'd ever need to chart Labyrnna's southern waters again, but I did.

"…What?" …As I just stated, I trust Timothy to put them back when he is finished. "Where is it…?" The Kokiri woods, where are they? I can't find it, the map that's supposed to be here with the rest. It took me days to cover all the ground drawn onto that map, and now I stand here unable to find any trace of it.

I don't think I've ever had to discipline Timothy before. At least never to the extent some knights do with their squires. Now, I'm not going to beat the boy over a lost map, but I think this is definite cause for me to sit him down and make it clear I'm not impressed…

By Din's Blazing Infernos I'm too tired to search for my maps anywhere else than in the drawer where they belong!!

"I think my Squire may be borrowing it, otherwise I'm afraid it's gone missing." I only know to speak up as an extra set of shadows is abruptly flashed across the walls. His majesty holds his own light high as he brings it into the room with him along with his map. Closing the drawer with a sharp snap, I know I look irritated at the moment, I hope that it's fairly obvious to his Majesty that that's because I am.

"It is of no consequence." Yes, well, you didn't draw it now did you, Majesty? "Come, if you would be so kind as to take a seat, I'm sure this one ought to suffice for this evening." Evening? So perhaps it is late enough for me not to have become nocturnal.

I'll admit; it's a bit odd being asked to have a seat in my own chambers, but I suppose that's to be expected; they're my rooms, but his castle. As his Majesty lowers himself onto one of the sturdy couches, he sets the candlestick down on one corner of his map as he unrolls it across the low table sitting in the middle of the rug.

"It took me a bit of searching to dredge this thing up, I hope the tree line hasn't changed too much since it was drawn." He says, watching as I make my way over and seat myself across from him. I'm still tired, and my legs and shoulders still ache, but I have a feeling he won't take it well if I ask him to leave and come back later. I don't get it; I should be jumping out of my skin wanting to know everything he has to say, but really I just feel slow and perhaps even a bit irritated…

"Does this landscape look at all familiar to you?" It takes a moment for the faded lines along the parchment to become clear to me in the dim light. Slowly though, the symbols of plains, the lines of forests, rivers, and roads all appear, painting themselves along the page as my eyes peel away the darkness.

Nodding to his Majesty, I watch as he begins trailing his fingers along one of those roads, several ink marks blotching the page. They look random as he runs his hand along them, but I can tell them to be markers indicating troop movements. Not only an old map, but used as well.

"This, right here, was Faron Fief." Tapping two fingers against a large brown box, its name faded too far into the parchment to be read any longer, I suddenly can't take my eyes off of it. It's a fairly large map in itself, but I recognize the area to not be more than perhaps a league or two across. The township itself is even large enough to have a number of large buildings inked into it. It's the size of a rectangle following the dimensions of the length of my thumb and the length of my index finger.

His majesty's voice even begins to fade into the sudden noise filling my mind. The map before me remains clear, but somehow I can't see it, my mind's eye filling with the images which have been following me constantly since the moment I made the choice to kill in anger and not out of duty.

'She was waiting for the Lord of Faron Fief…' I hate him… Before I left, yes, I avoided him. And no, I did not like him, but I didn't hate Salvin, I didn't see him as evil. I saw him as manipulative, haughty, arrogant, I saw him as being like most of the nobility who pretend to be closer to the crown than they really are. So what if he's Zelda's cousin? His mother was only left alive because of the late Queen's good graces with her sister. If anything I'd expect Salvin to just grovel constantly at the King's feet, not trample on his toes and hang on his arm like a love-sick farm-hand.

But now… even though I know no future is set in stone, that what I saw with Nayru is only what was to happen if we vanished from time, I can't help it. I can't see him the same way anymore…

"Those are ruins just along the edge of the forest now." I recite woodenly, not sure why I speak as I can feel the silence lengthening despite my own thoughts running wild. "It was once a fort; wasn't it?"

"Not so much, there's no boarder save that with the ocean to the far south east. The Fief was walled and was well protected of course; the centre of Farore's cult, many fine knights were fostered within it's halls before it was destroyed…" For a moment, he almost sounds sad to hear himself say that, and I look to him curiously.

"If it was important to the Goddess, may I ask why it remains ruined?" From what I know of recent history, a number of large manors and towns were destroyed during the civil war, but most of them had new lords assigned to them by the man before me.

"That is a difficult question to answer, Sir Link." Sir Link, not Hero; Sir Link. Speaking to me as a knight, not a paladin, why do I keep getting the sinking suspicion that this cannot end well? "There simply hasn't been a… proper candidate I suppose. Not until now at least." I feel cold…

"Has someone come forward then? Recently?" A knight, not a paladin. A lord needs knights to support him in a campaign, why not a knight who grew up within the woods bordering the former township? Who better to pledge his sword?

"In a manner of speaking… Yes." I don't know why I'm panicking; I don't even know why I have the strength to panic. If I weren't sore enough all ready I know I'd be up by now pacing restlessly, but although my mind's fully awake at this point there's no way my legs will carry me along for something like that.

Of course there would still be a Lord of Faron Fief, there's no reason that would change. And there's no reason for me to feel any sort of… well, anything about him. All I need to do is… is… …I just need to… I can't even think of the words, I don't even know what he looks like… What his name is…

"I think we've… gotten off track, Majesty," I mumble, my voice muffled from behind my hands as I rub my face tiredly. By the gods, I'm still filthy; it's not a pleasant feeling to wipe my grimy hands across a dirty face… "You were saying something about my parents? Or who you suspect they may have been?"

"I think you'll find the two to be related, if I am correct at least, Sir Link." And this is when you tell me they were servants you met once, or captured, or something like that, isn't it, Majesty? After all, honor aside you were the aggressor in most every battle you were involved in… By Nayru's Grace, I don't think I'll be able to hold my tongue at all if he tries to saddle me into supporting a man using the supposed station of the two people he met years and years ago who might have possibly had a son who just so happened to be me.

"The last lord of Faron Fief… was a brilliant swordsman." I've heard his Majesty use this tone before. Whenever he gives his empowering speeches or commends someone in the court on a job well done, his voice takes on a sound which makes it seem as though he were born with a crown on his head. "A man among men; and a Knight of unquestionable loyalty to his Lord." But somehow, although I can hear that majestic ring in his words, I just want him to make his point. I don't like having information like this dangled in my face…

"He and I, I am sure we could have become good friends, had fate been more kind. Instead, he was bound to serve the King before me, and did so admirably until his death." That shine slowly seems to fade from his words, and his Majesty looks almost to be losing some of his own grace as he sits there, almost melancholy as he looks across the map and its mess of markings.

"When he died, I want you to remember that he did so as a true soldier; with pride and stony eyes which betrayed nothing of his inner thoughts." Point, I want a point. Make it now; stop leaving me in suspense!

"His Lady Wife however… after watching her husband die, I did not want the same or a similar fate to befall her; remember that as well, Sir Link." What is he talking about? I can't help but give him a narrow, clearly irritated look as he just keeps watching that map in front of him.

"I was young and foolish, and I gave chase to her across the battle-field as she fled. That horse…" He taps the map again, drawing my eyes down to it as he allows his fingers to slowly slide south of the town. Lower, lower, arcing into the woods just beyond the boundaries of the battle camps. "Here… it crossed into the forest here."

"This river, I know it." I'm watching him of course, but as his hand comes to a stop, the line of blue scrawling across the plains just south of that point jumps out at me. It's my turn to trace invisible lines now; placing two fingers on that curved stream and retracing it back up into the woods where the map-maker did not follow it. "It runs from the north of the forest down searching for the ocean, but never finds it; it just empties into Lake Hylia across the plains." I know where this area is, I've traveled through it several times, it was the same route I took at the start of the season to escort Ralph back to the city.

I know that at the time, we avoided following the river, and I didn't explain to anyone why that was. In simple truth, it's because one of the many feeder streams happens to also course through a small village of children… Adults are not welcomed in the presence of the Kokiri, they hide from them, becoming as shadows under logs and behind trees.

"Where were you raised, Sir Link? It is an ill-kept secret that your youth was spent within these woods, the same into which the lady fled and died…"

"How do you know she died?" I can feel my hand slowly moving of its own accord, silently following his order to find the place I left behind as a child. But I keep myself from jumping to the location, instead looking up towards the man across from me. I know he's watching the map before him intently, but for a brief moment he lifts his eyes enough to meet mine.

"Just as she vanished through the first branches of the forest, an archer mistaking my intentions let loose onto her. Even in the darkness his aim was true, I saw the shaft land myself…" The distance between the point of entry; and where I know the village to be is not an easy one to cross, but a panicked horse can often traverse paths tame ones dare not tread. And arrows, however many there may be, they take time to bring death if not to the heart or the head…

"…Her eyes." It's hard to breathe, but not as hard as before, nothing's crushing me, it's more as though something's pushing from the inside trying to burst out.

"She looked over her shoulder only once, the light from the fires devouring the town making them glow in the night…"

"…And mine."

"Had you not looked to me with such resentment, as though loathing your vows to me, Sir Link, I would never have said you resembled him in anything more than character. But seeing the colour of hers with the anger of his…"

I can't help but… just stare at him. It almost feels like this is all a dream, everything numb and my mind already spinning so fast it's reached the point where I can't think of anything at all. Somehow I don't even have anything to say. Not a word comes to me as I just continue to sit here, not even looking at him anymore but instead just past him at nothing. I don't know what to think, am I supposed to say something? Do anything?

"As you can see, in a manner of speaking, it's not as though anyone has made a motion to claim those lands or the ruins of the town. But more as an appropriate candidate is at last being recognized." I think… maybe he can see just how useless I'm going to be for the rest of this conversation.

"Even if this is all entirely incorrect, that nothing I have said here holds any basis in reality; few can really speak out against a development such as this." He just keeps talking; he's almost using a conversational tone really. It's not quite casual since I think he's as aware of the gravity of the situation, but just isn't being crushed by it as I am. "You are, after all, a man of valor, courage, and loyalty, and your skill with a sword is unquestionable. You are the chosen of Farore as well, so that only would make you even more appropriate. And it's not as though you have a homestead elsewhere. …Unless there has been some development over this past season which I am unaware of..?"

Dumbly, I just shake my head to him. I really don't think I trust myself to say anything just now. I'm not feeling some empowering rush of emotions which could result in my falling to the floor in tears. I just think it's more likely that I'd babble random noises if I opened my mouth…

"I do not expect an answer at this moment of course, in fact there is much more we would have to discuss before the decision would even fall to you completely. In fact I…" That's rare, I actually end up pulling my eyes back to his Majesty as the King's words falter. I think the map is by this point forgotten by both of us where it sits on the low table. The hand I was using to trace the lines of it somehow found it's way up over the lower half of my face, and the king has the fingers of both hands threaded together in front of him.

"I… don't even know how I can sit here in front of you." His voice is soft, how alien it is for me to hear him speak like that, almost shy… "In my youth I… I thought it was all for the best you know… I knew the price of war, I knew that the men against me were in the right, were following orders; that they had wives and families and homes to protect." Is this… "But… in that quest of mine, I know now that I stole… many things."

Is this a confession? Is he apologizing for something? My king is… ashamed of something enough to confess it like this? …Why?

"I took wealth… lands… honour. I stole many lives as well, and ruined countless more." He was looking at me before, but no longer. I think his eyes have lost focus now as mine did before, but instead of allowing myself to drift back into that, instead I find myself sitting here listening intently to his every word.

"I even stole the parents of an infant child." Despite those words, I can almost see it in his eyes, the way the memories are coming from him, how he's remembering and reminding himself that it wasn't just one child, but the better part of an entire generation…

"I cannot expect forgiveness by simply returning what was always to be yours, Sir Link." Slowly, I watch as His Majesty pulls himself together, rising with the clear unease of an old man and taking a moment to straighten his cloths. I almost forget myself, forcing my numb legs to hold me as I get up as well, I know I'm watching him intently, but can I be blamed for that now after all he's told me?

"Majesty-"

"Tomorrow…" He interrupts, looking to me solidly so as to still my tongue before he continues, "Come down to my study near the library once your are rested and well. We shall continue this conversation then. I shall..." Again, he hesitates, I don't know why but it almost worries me to see him so… uneasy, unable to put his words together completely. "I shall leave this here, with you. I think that might be for the best." At this, he gestures vaguely with one hand towards the map settled on the table top. His voice has fallen back into what most would consider the rumbling of an old man, not quite clear with his words, but rather with most of his meaning conveyed through body language. I wonder why it's so odd to think of the king as an old man…

"Yes, your Majesty." I answer quickly, not wanting to be cut off as he slowly starts walking. The moment I speak however he just stops and looks at me as if in shock. It's strange, being able to tell when his eyes are shifting constantly between what is before him and what memory brings to the front. He doesn't nod to me though, doesn't shake his head or reprimand me. His eyes just travel up and down me once, and I almost don't even hear what it is he says as he turns away and walks towards the door… but it's;

"Just like Georg…"

Gar! So many Abyss stories demand my attentions! I must finish Matters first however. I promise this to my faithful readers; Matters shall not die three inches from the finish line!!