Nothing much to say except that I accidentally closed my browser two times while writing my author's notes, so there's that. Other than that, though, there's not really much to say about this one. I put Link and Hilda's relationship under the microscope - something I haven't done - and I get inside Link's head. Saving the world's going to leave scars on anyone, and adding more scars on top of that isn't advised, but Link's Link. He's stubborn, for sure.
In other news, I'm in the (very) early planning stages for two more post-game Zelda fanfics. One for Breath of the Wild; the other, Phantom Hourglass. Stand alone novels, both of them. And no, I have no intention of starting them now and leaving my Lorule trilogy unfinished. That's not the plan at all. I'm finishing it; then moving onto uncharted waters. The post-PH fan novel will be first, I think. A little darker than this, but still 'T'. It's more fun.
He woke with a start, breathing laboured as he pushed his fringe out of his eyes. It was just a dream. Just a dream. It was over and had been for five years now. They'd won. And they'd done it together. Beside him, his wife to be – his Zelda – fussed in her sleep, and he froze as she rolled over, brilliant eyes drawing him in. Oh dear. He'd gone and woken her up. This wouldn't end well. For several reasons.
Link winced and licked his lips. "Sorry," he mumbled, rubbing the nape of his neck. "I didn't mean to wake you up. Go back to sleep, Zel. I'll be fine. It was just a nightmare. It happens. No big deal. Nothing to concern yourself with. Sleep, please. I'm just going to go for a walk. I need some time to clear my head. I can hardly hear myself think – it's all noise, and none of it good. Please, don't fight me over this."
"You need to talk to someone about it," she replied, eyes narrowed, "Link, I'm not stupid. It's not just a nightmare, and it's not something that simply 'happens'. If you wanted to fool someone, you picked the wrong person. You're a terrible liar, and you should know better than to hide something from me. It's not okay, General. No matter how much you think I'll believe you, I won't. Not about this. I can't."
He pushed the covers back, sighing. "It's not something I can just talk about, Zelda. It's not that simple. I wish it was, but it's not. You should know better. Maybe I'm not fine, and maybe it's not okay. So? I'm managing. It's not a perfect fix, nor is it permanent, but it works. Whether we like it or not, it's not going to go away, and it's not so easy as to 'fix' it by talking to someone. Certainly not in the way you mean."
He knew she was annoyed, even angry, with him over his dismal, but it couldn't be helped. Shaking his head, he quickly escaped into the bathroom, bracing his hands on the cool stone counter. Splashing water on his face, he grimaced at his reflection. He looked haggard. He felt it. Tired. Old. Older than he should. He felt ten, twenty years, older. And he was only twenty-two. Twenty-two. Three help him.
Ravio was the eldest out of the four of them, already twenty-three, and a winter child. Fitting for a fire mage. He was the youngest and born early spring. Or so he'd always been told. He would never know for sure. Their respective royals were closer in age, Zelda born late summer; Hilda early autumn. It never bothered him usually, but Irene and Lincoln's conversation had struck a nerve. A bad one.
He'd been seventeen when Yuga showed up. In the grand scheme of things, he'd still been a child. He hadn't been when it was over, though, and he knew it. Zelda knew it too, and love her though he may, she didn't understand it quite the way that she thought she did. It drove her mad. Link scowled to himself as he buckled up his boots, pulling his tunic on; ignoring the still figure in the bed beside him.
It hurt, true, but they weren't perfect. No-one was. Walking out of the room they'd be given, he shut the door and leaned against it. Eyes closed, he unclipped the flask at his waist and took a drink, refreshed by the icy water. Was his coping mechanism good for him? No. But what he did know was that he couldn't talk to Zelda about it. It hadn't affected her like it had him. He wasn't sure who he could talk to, though.
A muffled hiss of pain drew him out of his thoughts, and he blinked as a faint light appeared at the end of the corridor. Shuffling footsteps followed, and a soft curse. A dark shape; red eyes glinting in the warm lamplight and Link sucked in a breath. Hilda? What was she doing up? Ravio would have a fit if he knew. That blanket around her shoulders didn't look anywhere near warm enough for a night like this.
It was freezing. And judging by the look in her eyes, something had woken her. She looked haunted. Tormented, and he made a sympathetic noise. He knew that look. He'd seen it in the mirror for years now. He couldn't, in good conscience, leave her alone. No. Not like this. The least he could do was offer support. Offer support, and if need be, an escort to wherever she wanted to be. After all, let's face it –
No matter where they were, the guard was useless. "Hilda?" he asked softly, "Do I want to know why you're up? It's the middle of the night and like ice. You should be next to a fire at least; asleep in bed at best. I know why I'm up, but I'm not asking myself, am I? No, I'm not. I'm asking you. Besides, we both know a certain fire mage isn't going to be happy with the guards in the morning. C'mon. What's wrong?"
A bitter laugh. "Nightmares," she replied, mouth twisted into a grimace. "And the fact that the fire mage in question is on the other side of the castle. You're lucky, y'know that? You really are. You don't wake up in a panic, searching for someone who's never there. My bed's cold, and I hate it. Underfloor heating or not, it doesn't change the fact that I'm alone. I'm terrified of being by myself. Terrified of myself."
"Yeah, I don't like myself much either," he admitted, shaking his head. "I genuinely don't understand what Zelda sees in me sometimes, but you try arguing with the Queen of Hyrule. A Hyrela, no less. It doesn't end well. Never. Believe me. Been there, done that. She's sulking now – I'm still refusing to listen to her about my nightmares, and it's hard to tell her when she's wrong. Wisdom indeed."
That coaxed a laugh out of the Lorulean Queen. "I know what you mean," she added, giggling, "Sometimes I wonder why I don't have our Triforce of Courage, but oh well. It's complicated, I guess. It could've been mine; just like Wisdom could've been Ravio's, but something tells me that's not how it works. Intuition, I suppose. I might have Wisdom, but it's not the kind that Zelda has, I know that much."
"And Ravio's Courage is different to mine, too. Anyway," he began, gesturing ahead of them, "Shall we go? I can't leave you stumbling around out here in the dark in good conscience, and I need to stretch my legs after the way I woke up. Besides, you look like you need the company. It's the least I can do. I assume you're intending to visit your Advisor? …Don't look at me like that, it's not hard to figure out."
She sighed and nodded – reluctantly, he noticed – adjusting the blanket around her shoulders as she started walking. He fell into step beside her, quite content to just be there. His relationship with her had changed over the past five years, and he knew she was grateful for it. They were friends, and good ones. Not in the way he was friends with Ravio – they were practically brothers – but they were still friends.
"It's stupid," she blurted, brow furrowed, "But I can understand where he's coming from. Ravio … struggles with all the respect he's given. It's not a burden he bears easily; and yet we both know there'd be a riot among the people if I married anyone else. I'd even go so far as to say they respect him more than they do me. That's fair. He works hard to make sure everything runs smoothly, and what do I do?"
"Your job," Link pointed out, "Just as he does his. He works too hard, and you'd be blind not to see it. He'll work himself to the bone one day, but he's trying his best to make sure you don't crumble. You have an entire Council to advise you on decisions; from all walks of life. He's your representative among the people – his decisions reflect yours, and by extension, the respect they have for him is for you too."
It's true, and you know it, Lincoln agreed. Because for all that Agatha and I lay claim to the title of founding monarchs, that's not the full story. I don't know about Lorule, but I know that Hyrule took centuries to establish. You've been picking up the pieces, and I'm in awe of what you've accomplished. They respect you. You're the reason Lorule exists now. Your Advisor helped. It's all he wanted. To help.
Besides, he initially refused, remember? Lincoln's right – you know as well as I do that he only wanted to help. Only wants to help. His success reflects your own, silly girl. Agatha chided, rolling her eyes. He will not pull a Yuga on you. Ever. You know him better than to think that. He will support you. That's what he does best. Come on, Lincoln. Let's go drag the lovebirds out of bed and through the dungeon under town.
The Hylian Shade blanched. Goddess, woman. You do realize that between the two of them, Vion and Lana could kick us six weeks forward if they wanted to? We're really going to have to have a chat about what you consider fun, you know. And no, Agatha, I don't care if Vion built the place or not, it's a death trap. Dungeons always are. They're death traps. They're called dungeons for a very good reason, thanks.
And with that, the two were gone. Link stared at the spot where they'd been and shook his head. Shades. He didn't understand them. He met Hilda's gaze and shrugged, pleased to see that she was feeling better. The familiar Lorealu gleam in her eyes was back, but he didn't say anything about it. He knew better than anyone how easy it was to doubt yourself – doubt everything – on nights like this.
"So when did Ravio get a haircut?" he asked, quirking a brow. "When I last saw him, he still could've passed for my twin. Now the resemblance isn't so obvious. I'm not complaining, of course not, I'm just curious. I swear he's taller too, but that's probably just the muscle he put on in the last few years. He's not a stick anymore. Still moves like one of those Cassi ghost cats, though. Damn, he makes it look easy."
"It's hard not to be jealous," she whispered, flushed. "You're right, he makes it look easy, but he also makes summer a nightmare. Fire mage or not, he looks good and he knows it. The spying thing was an accident the first time, but I blame him for it being a habit. He does it on purpose. It's like the baked apple thing, only worse. Drives me crazy, knowing what he's doing; why. Getting a rise out of me."
He smirked. "Yet you go and do stupid things, knowing that it'll set him off. Like the incident with the library doors. With all the … implications your family members, Lana included, were throwing around, it really left me wondering if anything 'happened', or if you just talked. Then again, Ravio doesn't strike me as the type to layer his words like that. You both needed a break anyway. You still do; and you know it."
"I know, I know," she grumbled, but her ears were red. He didn't blame her. "But no, nothing happened. Nothing. We just talked. He'd cleared my schedule for the afternoon, so we just spent time by ourselves. Ravio slept – he needed it – while I read. It was nice. Relaxing. He was angry, and frustrated, not what you're implying. I know what he looks like angry, and that he was. It's not usually with me, though."
"'Usually'," he quipped, snickering, "The usual is Zelda angry and annoyed with me for one reason or another. Most often my nightmares and midnight escapades, though. Sleep deprived and tipsy? You can bet good money I'll wake up in front of the fireplace, or somewhere more obscure. Like the castle vault. Don't ask me how it works, I have no clue. But what I do know is that wealth is a terrible bed. Terrible."
A nearby guard spluttered, coughing, and Link chuckled. Yeah, he didn't blame the poor guy for reacting that way. Rupees and gold didn't make a very good bed at all. Shame he had the personal experience in that. It wasn't something he was proud of, but it had happened early on in his relationship with Zelda, during that time she'd gotten a little … crazy. Dealing with that, and the consequences, hadn't been fun.
She'd been a cookie cutter example, the perfect vision of a princess, for so long that when it cracked; it shattered. It wasn't her fault, but he wished that someone had warned him. It would've been nice. That way he wouldn't have to deal with it alone. He hadn't in the end, but it hadn't been easy. He would've been prepared, at least. Impa hadn't been any help. She'd blamed him for it. It hadn't been his fault.
Zelda was Zelda and dealing with her in her natural state – no titles, no airs – had been a bit of a shock. Even Impa, her advisor, up until that point had only interacted with her as a princess. Always. To the rest of Hyrule, Zelda was their princess. She wasn't much else, and she hadn't much of an identity beyond that of royalty. So when he gave her the chance at one, she took it. And took it too far. It hurt to recall.
He'd requested an audience with the King over it, knowing that it was more than just the 'princess' thing. What she'd been through, what they'd both been through, had been traumatic. Sure, the affects hadn't him grabbed quite as early as they had her, but she'd needed stability. Stability she found in him and Irene, as well as Impa. Well, once he bluntly pointed out what was going on. Still. Embarrassing.
A Sheikah with a grudge wasn't a good thing. He'd found that out the hard way. The guards were probably used to their Queen wandering around at night, though he had questions about the cards that were sitting on a table near one of the guardroom entrances. How on Farore's green earth were they going to do their jobs when they were busy playing games? He felt his fingers twitch at the thought.
Idiots. But no, it wasn't his place. Taking a deep breath, he shook his head, and kept pace with his friend, grateful for the silence. They both needed it, and though he could see Hilda relax, he knew she wouldn't really be okay until she was safe with Ravio. They were close to his quarters now, which was a good thing. Why the pair were living in different parts of the castle, though, he had no idea. Sounded silly.
But he didn't have to voice the question. "It was cold, and late one night in winter," Hilda admitted, pushing a lock of hair behind her ear. "So I made him stay. He would've slept on the old couch in the library – again – but I wouldn't hear of it. He borrowed one of the spare bedrooms for the night, and, well, he hasn't left the castle since. I don't mind. It turned out for the best, anyway. Thankfully."
"Though you wish he wasn't so far away?" Link finished, smiling. "I gathered that. He's still in the same rooms, though? Geez, why am I not surprised. He's hesitant to ask for anything, even if he could ask for it without anyone saying anything. He's your Advisor – surely a little luxury can't hurt him? Or is he just that stubborn? It's Ravio. Sometimes you can only wait and watch to see what he'll do next. Typical."
She giggled. "Very typical. But for all that he's my Advisor, he's a merchant at heart. Sure, he was a ward of the Crown, and had the same education I did – when I wasn't asleep in class, that is – but if he's good at anything, it's staying true to himself. That's why he doesn't ask for more. He deserves it, yes, but try telling him that. His quarters are cluttered, and he could use a bigger space, but he says he's happy."
He hummed in agreement. "Y'know, there is one way you could fix that," he teased, winking, "And I'm sure no-one in the castle would mind. Dark Realm, going off what Claire said, they'd probably throw a celebration. No-one's going to fault you for being selfish. C'mon. You mentioned riots earlier. Ravio made an off-hand comment about burning marriage proposals – you're courting. What's wrong with it?"
She shoved him lightly, cheeks warm. "The celebration everyone's going to throw when they find out, that's what. It's embarrassing. Yes, I have intentions to marry him, but as far as I'm concerned, that's not any of their business. I know they know, but that doesn't make it any less a private thing. It's between me and Ravio, really. Not us and the rest of Lorule. Still, you have a point. No-one's going to mind."
"Not with all I've seen, they're not. Yeah, sure, you've a right to privacy, but you two really need to just let it be. The way I see it, no-one's really going to complain, so the only person stopping you from courting openly him is yourself. You'll be happier, and you know it. You deserve to be happy, both of you. You work too hard; who's going to care if you flirt as you go about your day? No-one, that's who."
He made a good point, and he knew it. Link ushered his companion up into the stairwell, sighing. More than anything, he just wanted to see his Lorulean friends happier and less stressed. They needed it. They both worked far too much, Ravio more than Hilda, and maybe if they were openly courting each other – They'd occasionally stop to relax. Spend time with each other. Sleep in, because they didn't get enough.
He just didn't want to see either of them a wreck, that's all. They needed the support the other offered, and he knocked on the door without hesitation. Ravio wouldn't be happy, but he had a good reason to disturb him, and then he'd go. He wasn't going to stand around during a private moment. He had more manners than that. He'd accept thanks, but as far as he was concerned, he'd done what he needed to.
It didn't take long for the room's owner to stir. Ravio rubbed his eyes sleepily, brow furrowed as he leaned against the door. "What do you want, Link? It's late. What's so important that you needed to wake me up?" A blink. His eyes widened. "Wait, Hilda…? What are you doing – Never mind. I know what's going on. Nightmares. Again. As if the fainting and the migraines weren't enough. Dark Realm."
He winced. "Yeah, I found her stumbling around earlier, and I recognised the look she had on her face. Um, no offense, either of you, but I know what a nightmare looks like. I'd just woken up from one myself, so I should know. I couldn't just leave her, either, not in good conscience. So I escorted her here. In all seriousness, though, no-one's going to care if you two start publicly courting. You need it. Badly."
Hilda nodded, and squeaked as Ravio pulled her closer to him, an arm sneaking around her waist. "I know," he admitted, "You don't need to tell me. I know. And to be honest, I know how tonight's going to go down, so the staff in the castle can have their party. I don't care. All I know is that I'm sleeping in, and no-one's going to stop me. No-one can stop me. I need the rest, so they can survive without me."
They'd have to, Link reflected as he walked away. Not that they'd probably care, they'd be too busy celebrating to worry about anything. After all, Ravio and Hilda needed a break. They'd get one. And a very happy population, because Loruleans, immigrant or native, were a weird bunch. Unique. Riots indeed. All over the impossibility of their Queen marrying anyone but her Advisor. Crazy lot. Crazy.
Crazy is a good way to describe them, Link. But yes, the castle staff have a party to throw~ Before that, though, there's fluff to be had. Good, wholesome fluff. Romantic fluff, no less. Ravio lets his walls down, and my goodness is it adorable. He's very good at showing his affection for his Queen in ways that slip under the radar, but when he doesn't have to, he's just going to spoil her. They finally get a well deserved break. They needed one. They did.
See you next time!
