Chapter 17
Sins of the sun
"That's a lot of bandages on your throat, grasshopper knight," Agitha commented and poured Link a cup of hot chocolate; he eagerly pulled off his newly washed gloves and wrapped scarred fingers around the mug, inhaling the steam.
"Yes," Midna clamored in his head, "I'm sure you can boast about being killed by Rusl one day."
Despite the lancinating pain periodically stabbing his throat, Link grinned widely; he finally confessed his excruciating experiences to the blonde man and spent a night alternately howling and crying in Rusl's lap. Having a real foster father was not all bad; he concluded and sipped the chocolate drink, savoring the tooth aching sweetness.
After Rusl realized what he done, he carried the sacred wolf all the way back to Ordona and nursed the creature in Link's house. One morning, he walked in with pumpkin pie to see Link emerge with tousled hair and swathe of scratchy bandages wound around his neck.
"The hot chocolate is delicious." Link pushed his empty mug to the eccentric girl. She paused, looked at him with fathomless, amethyst eyes and smiled, pouring the glorious brown liquid in his mug. "I got new bugs for you," he stated and presented a cardstock mounted with various butterflies. "I caught them near my house in Ordona, though I'm not sure if I mounted them properly."
Blushing, Agitha pulled the sheet of paper towards her. Lamps, reminiscent of the bioluminescence in the waters around Outset Beach, glowed in her house and a never ending fire cackled cheerfully in an ivory fireplace. The girl dedicated her wall space to the display of vividly colored bugs and Link grinned, finally, someone appreciated the art of critter catching.
She got up from her winged back chair, clutching the newest display protectively to her chest; Link often wondered where she came from, near the fireplace, a myriad of shelves displayed thick tomes on insects and their studies. Dresses of mauve silk (maybe purple wasn't so bad) flared around her and gold glinted in her earlobes. Rich. Link sagely nodded.
Rich and lonely.
"You know," the imp piped, "why don't you ask her for a promotion, from grasshopper knight to Prince of the bug Kingdom?" It took several minutes for him to understand the implications behind her words and once he did, heat spread across his cheeks and he drowned his cocoa. "Oh, don't be modest," he could feel Midna poking him, "I'm sure she won't mind having a strong prince to protect her and she is close to your age."
"She's fourteen," Link muttered under his breath and flushed, he pictured Midna's taunting smirk. How do you know? "She...looks fourteen," he lamely conceded and placed the mug on the polished teakwood table, careful not to scratch it. "And besides, I have a girl-friend already."
"Pfft." Midna scoffed
Swallowing the last of the hot drink, he attempted to hurry out of his chair before Agitha returned and offered him strawberry tarts. Refusing them was impossible. Instead, Link's legs tangled with the chair and he fell into a heap of objects strewn across the satin rug placed on the floor. Trinkets, shaped like scarab beetles, tickled his nose and a myriad of crystal fireflies nestled in his hair.
"Are you alright?" the girl asked in her lazy drawl. Link blushed, dusted the objects off his head and grinned assuredly. "Your bandages," Agitha bent closer and he backpedalled furiously, knocking his head against the side of the table. "Ooh, that must have hurt," she remarked and gestured at her neck. "Blood is soaking into your bandages." Her eyes skipped over the jars lining a wooden shelf near the stove and she smiled. "Let me change them for you," she trilled and skipped away, skirts rustling and jewelry twinkling.
"I'm alright." Link croaked and peeked over the table, the gauze around his neck felt soggy and he eyed the door, shoulders drooping when Agitha returned with a jar of mint colored fluid and new linen. "I really need to get home; the man looking after me must be worried." He touched his throat. "I'll come back again." She smiled, her lips tinged by sadness. "We can have picnics by the flowers and..." Link stopped babbling, if Agitha pulled her hair loose, she reminded him of Aryll. "And we can go bug hunting." He beamed and reached out to tuck a strand behind her ear, fingers lingering a second too long near her cheek. "The next time I come back, I won't be wearing this anymore," he pointed to his stiff collar, speckled in red.
Waving, he stepped out the door, into the cool, stone streets of Castle Town and exhaled, opening a hand to see a crystal firefly nestled in his palm. Thankfully Midna remained quiet and he slipped the carving into his pocket.
And wondered if it will survive the journey back home.
Broken stone idols, surfaces carpeted by fuzzy green moss, lay in the sacred grove. Grass swallowed some of their grey forms, other ruins towered over Link, blocking sunlight in patches of irregular shapes. Twilight swept the area and he shivered in the dank cold blowing from the west. A marble pedestal, missing a sword, jutted in the ground in front of him.
Long ago, the hero remembered Rusl's words; this place housed a palace the likes of Hyrule Castle. The Master Sword rested in the plinth but due to unforeseen circumstances, the Royal Family plucked the sword from its sacred resting place and used it to seal a rock of sorts. Carved lettering bloomed underneath Link's fingers and he squinted, unable to read the Hylian language.
Moving to the left, he set up camp, fatigue sunk in his bones and while he shuffled, hammering tent pegs in crumbling ground and inhaling a bowl of oatmeal, he thought of Skull Kid.
The mid-afternoon sunlight flickered through birch pines and birdsong filled the air. Polishing the last of Uli's pumpkin pie and licking his fingers, Link followed Midna's instructions and winded through the trails, kicking red and brown, crinkly leaves in the air. The undercurrent of mold assaulted his nostrils and he sneezed several times. Sacred grove, a catacomb of rocky tunnels and trees, led him in circles. Helplessly, the duo paused at the entrance of a barred tunnel and glanced at each other.
Midna, hissing under her breath, stabbed the map repeatedly and compared the route with the surroundings. "We are on the right track," she frowned and pointed to the winding lines. "I don't understand why it ended here." She sailed forward to check the path ahead and rocketed backwards when Skull Kid, wearing an eerie mask complemented with an odd assortment of clothes, materialized.
Link sniffed disdainfully at the kid's twig hat.
Twirling the gale boomerang, the human assessed the target before him. A gust of strong wind would reduce Skull Kid to a bag of kindling and thinking this, he took aim.
However, the ghost brought a reed flute to paper thin lips and blew. A long, shrill whistle danced in the air and several straw puppets, teeth chattering and limbs jerking, popped from nearby trees. A windstorm ravaged the clearing and Link clutched his cap, seething at the childish laughter ringing in his ears. Leaving Midna sputtering about the sacred grove, he tore after Skull Kid, the tip of the Master Sword trained on the scarecrow's back.
They danced through the clearing. Straw dummies met their demise, limbs smashed, heads flying and stalks carpeting tiles of stone half buried in earth. Panting, Link vaulted after the specter, rattling eerily and playing its flute. The rise and fall of the song, grated on the adolescent's spine, raising goosebumps along his flesh.
Skull Kid hopped from tree stump to tree stump and exasperatedly, Link tailed him akin to a monkey. A lucky jump to an adjoining tree stump brought both of them together and the human grinned, revealing elongated canines. The ghost lifted the flute to a wooden mouth and Link pressed the blade against the twig monster's neck.
"Play that one more time and I'll detach your head," he growled but the smile on Skull Kid's mask did not change. "...Where is the sacred grove?" The ghost stared at him inanely. "We are looking for the Temple of Time."
At this, Skull Kid became limp and sunk to the floor.
"Friend..." It rasped and Link jolted, pointing the blade at the talking puppet master. Midna tutted and rolled her eyes. "He said...He will play with me." Skull Kid buried its moon face in small palms and sobbed. "Kept his promise...But forgot about me." No tears escaped the ghost's glowing, red eyes. "Everyone forgets about me."
"Are you going to start crying?" the Twilli grinned and Link wiped his eyes, shaking his head frantically.
"I'll play with you," Link promised, "but right now, I have a job to finish. Once I'm done, I'll come back." The human fumbled in his backpack and extracted a little wooden toy he bought from Sera's Sundries, he pressed the toy in Skull Kid's hands. "Play with this for a while and wait for me."
The ghost turned the toy over and over, examining it with wide eyes. "No one gave me anything..." it whispered, leaves rustling on trees. "Except him." The Kid raised its eerie, permanently grinning face at Link and he returned the smile with a warm one of his own. "Thank you," the murmur rode on wind and the Skull Kid crumpled into a heap of sticks.
As Link stared in dismay, Midna yawned and pointed to a newly opened tunnel. Picking up the wooden toy, laying amongst a pile of straw, the adolescent pocketed it and followed Midna.
He sketched Skull Kid with the aid of his lantern and distant light of stars; Midna sat on his shoulder, quiet and contemplative.
Early morning mist cloaked the sacred grove in white. Under the sheets, Link suffered the humiliation of being dragged out of bed, half clothed, and tossed on the spongy ground. He groggily eyed the Twilli as she packed the camp and shivered in the chilly air. Rising to his feet, he rifled through the bag, contemplated on whether to eat a cheese or cucco sandwich for breakfast, and devoured both of them.
Sun skimmed through the branches, but the fog in the grove persisted in its presence. Stretching and examining the edge of his magical blade, Link walked to the pedestal and scanned the surroundings. He found it difficult to believe a castle once stood here. Kicking a chunk of rotting stone with his boot, he plunged the Master Sword in its marble pedestal and his mouth fell open.
A statue he swore was there a few seconds ago, vanished in thin air. Hysterical, he pulled the sword and it smoothly slid out of the slot.
A broken stone arch, missing half a carved door, reformed before his disbelieving eyes. Link sought for guidance and Midna merely smiled enigmatically and nodded to the imposing gate. Holding the sword, he inched across dewy grass, boots dampening. Passing under the arch, he walked into a world of grey.
A world suspended in time.
Heavy stone gates sighed shut behind him. Half twisting, he stared at the door, briefly mesmerized by the detail. Bored in five seconds, he looked to the front, eyes pulling to a similar pedestal inside the ivory foyer. Breath arresting in his chest, he reverently approached the stub of cream marble and paused, irises locking on to a...What the hell was that?! Forgetting about the waiting pedestal, he circled the cucco lookalike thing perched in front of a chasm. Licking his lips and thinking of lunch, Link dove for the bird and triumphantly grasped it, his victorious smile promptly faded and melted into a scream when the white plumed creature gazed at him.
Seriously, his mind shrieked, what in the Great Seas was this thing?
Holding it high above his head and still screaming murder, Link flung the bird in the chasm. It let out a distinctly humanoid, high pitched gurgle and plummeted in the gloom below. Shaking, Link mechanically slinked back to the pedestal and struck it with the sword; not even the appearance of a holographic staircase, shining cobalt blue amongst the pale ivory of the castle, was enough to knock him from his frightened state.
Clutching a bottle of milk, he sniffed the contents and scowled, turning to the silent Twilli, he thrust the bottle into her face and whined, "This milk is three days old!" Midna raised a questioning eyebrow; she stole that milk yesterday, fresh from Fado's ranch. "I'm not gonna drink this." Tossing the bottle back, he rummaged in his sack and found an apple, giving it a good sniff; he buried his teeth in it. "What was that thing?" Link questioned after a considerable pause, he paraded through the palatial chamber, unappreciative of the gold lining the bases of marble pillars and running across doorways. "It had a..." he breathed loudly, "a human face. Did you see that?" he asked, pointing at his face. "That bird didn't have a beak; it looked like someone glued a half human head on a cucco's body!" shouting, he disappeared through the double doors, his words echoing on time preserved statues of slate and alabaster.
Alone, Midna puzzled at the obvious lack of symmetry. All other doorways and niches contained two stone statues, except this one. Floating closer, she examined the axe wielding figurine and swiped an index finger across is intricately carved surface. No dust.
Eye narrowing, she shot through the door when Link yelped and ground to a halt. The human was nowhere to be seen and the area branched into different corridors. His scream echoed through all four tunnels and she sighed, weakly floating to the floor and listening. No matter how much he matured, a soft smile obstinately stretched across her lips, he will still be the bumbling human she was fond of.
The smile dimmed.
No use getting attached to humans.
She found Link priming an arrow to the bird-human lookalike thing he threw into a chasm. "Please," the creature spoke and the human jumped, Midna laughed raucously and his head whipped towards her, eyes pleading for salvation. "I mean no harm. I am an Ooccoo, an ancient race, my people-"
"People?" Link repeated, his initial fear mitigating. "You look like a human and bird smashed wrong."
Studying the sputtering bird as it defended its origins, Midna interjected, "Ignore the human, he is dumb." When Link turned to her, she mushed her hand in his cheek, preventing speech. "So what does your kind do?" she asked.
The bird tilted his head at a ninety degree angle and hopped at the foot of a grand staircase.
"We are the masters of light magic," Ooccoo replied and the Twilli raised an impressed eyebrow. "The Hylian race is also our descendants...the royals that is," the bird further clarified and Link touched his earlobe uncertainly, thank goodness he was a descendant of Grandma and not this...Ooccoo...Or whatever. "I can use warping magic to get you in and out of the dungeon," milky eyes fixed on the imp, "and this magic does not drain me, unlike you, Twilight Princess." Ooccoo blinked at Midna and she bared a fang appreciatively. "If you need me, simply whistle and I'll get you out of here." Link gawped as the bird fluttered to the top of the stairs. "Well then, we part ways here."
Ooccoo vanished.
In spite of its golden grandeur, parts of the majestic castle crumbled. Eroded by forces unseen. Platforms, stitched to granite walls, curved upwards, and as Link slogged over expanses of limestone and jumped over blade traps whizzing across the ground, Midna compared the old Hyrule Castle to the one in Castle Town. Hmph, the ancients knew how to inspire awe. The musty odor of a sealed space permeated the palace, but no dust floated behind the walls. In front of her, Link mounted his spinner, spilling scars on the floor and leaping across a chasm. Two platforms, edges chipped like old teeth, spanned across a monumental gap. The spinner gored against the wall and landed on the other side. A squelch underneath the pointed end revealed the remains of a young gohma, the human grimaced and merrily continued his way, grinding soft shelled baby gohmas underneath his gear.
The spinner bumped on a raised threshold of gold and hurled its passenger to the floor. Face colliding with squares of black and white marble, Link rubbed his nose and got up. Pillars, their bases carved, supported cusped arches and the beauty seized his breath. Feeling timid, he broke into a run, trailing after Midna. Wire partitions of gold glimmered past, their finery illuminated by magical fire burning in silver braziers.
Scooting to the left, he briefly touched the cold metal before testing his sword on it. The resounding clang prompted the Twilli to whip around and glare at him demonically. Sheathing the sword and trying to not appear guilty, he followed Midna to the edge of a platform and gazed down at a gigantic scale fixed to the wall.
"Scales of Justice," Link whispered and his companion rolled her eyes.
"They are used to weigh criminals," she informed and floated over one dish. "Come down and let's see how the goddesses judge you," Midna taunted and Link remained on the platform, heart roaring in his ears. His previous, cowardly actions flashed across his mind one by one and he breathed loudly. "Don't be such a wimp, get down here!" the Twilli ordered and he jumped, screwing his eyes shut; the dish of bronze and silver, engraved by master artisans, depressed beneath his weight and he waited for it to come up, surely he did not weight this much? To his utter dismay, the right dish loomed above his head and he turned to Midna for an explanation. "Bad doggy," she grinned, "if the ancient King was alive, you'd be sent to the dungeons."
Link quivered, although the dungeons were a preferable place compared to Arbiter's grounds, the cellars still stank of rot and stagnation. A torch fire could not bleed warmth in its stone cells.
Jumping back and forth between the gigantic balance and a platform bearing a variety of statues, Link tried to even the scale, but each time he jumped on the left, the right scale hovered at waist height. Growing increasingly frustrated, he dumped all the idols on one side, and stared in dismay when the left hovered in the sky and the right sunk to the ground.
At the bottom, he found a platform. Hopeful, Link wandered in a room with a beamos statue and the laser eye drew a scorched circle on the floor. Glaring hatefully at the rotating head, he stuck an arrow in its eye and scampered from the blast radius. Heat seared his behind and he tumbled into another rectangular room, partitioned with gold and silver wire fences. Statues sat quietly in niches and alcoves, grey light spilled from tall windows. Striding to the window, he peered out.
The landscape stretched a uniform grey.
Midna drew his attention to a corridor of steps. Thinking nothing of the gold rods placed on either side, he waltzed through. The moment he crossed, a lightning blue net of electricity sparked across the rods and chucked him backwards. Limbs tingling, Link curled on the floor in pain, scowling at the Twilli who simply examined the gate and nodded satisfactorily. "That was low." He massaged his jerking muscles. "You knew there was something fishy."
Spinning, Link opted to glare at a large, bell shaped statue thing suspended over a circle of dark stone. He left his sulking spot, the base of a Doric column and watched Midna demolishing the gates. She smiled mockingly and bowed. Huffing, Link climbed the staircase, alert for more electrical traps. He jumped over a rolling spike and used a small key to open a double door leading to a gloomy chamber. Right before he stepped in, to confront whatever horrors dwelled in dark places, Midna exclaimed:
"It's the statue." She zoomed to an ugly grey thing holding what looked like an axe. Link glanced at her, surprised at the malicious free smile blooming across her face. "There is an identical one in the vestibule," she explained, "I suppose you have to ferry this thing over there to open the sealed door." The male groaned inaudibly. "You know," she perched on his shoulder, "you could show a little more enthusiasm, this is the famous Temple of Time, the place where the Hero of Time travelled back and forth...seven years, I think." Midna regarded the environment in new light. "Zelda...would be so happy to be here," she murmured and involuntarily brought a palm to her chest. "The history preserved in this place would clear all her doubts."
Half listening, Link stepped inside. His vision adjusted to the dim interior giving him a glint of heavy armor. "The Hero of Time? I know about him, a bit," he stated and slid out of sight of whatever moaned in the room. "We have a coming of age ritual, when a boy hits twelve years, we wear the Hero's tunic." Link grimaced, remembering the swathes of scratchy, green fabric. "Come to think of it," he pulled the clothes he wore, "it looks a lot like this, but simpler, no chainmail." Hefty footsteps, metal, dragged on stone. Voice rising, he continued, "So the Hero of Time travelled through Time huh? That's awesome, if he couldn't do anything when he was a child, he could simply hop over this place, change time and complete it as an adult." A snarl punctuated the pause in the conversation. "Must be great," Link solemnly concluded and gripped his ball and chain, "to have such easy solutions to problems."
I was eight...A whisper echoed in the recesses of his mind...And it was not easy.
Grunting, Link twirled the spiked ball above his head and let it soar into the circular chamber. The weapon met its mark, crashing into a tall, ebony armored knight.
The figure punched through two columns and ground to a stop, holding the weapon. Inhaling sharply, Link let go when the Darknut pulled the chain. The silver snake flashed in obscure gloom and whiplashed on the helm. Swallowing the tiny victory, Link drew his sword, brought the quivering blade to his lips and focused.
"The armor," Midna nodded to the looming menace, "get rid of it first. The Darknuts are one of the most powerful monsters you will ever encounter; they are the souls of upright knights, bound to this realm by regre-"
"If you could stop talking, I might have a chance at defeating that thing!" Link exasperatedly pointed at the closing gap between him and the ebony knight. "Tell me happy things, like," he scrabbled over his words, "like what you eat for breakfast in the Twilight Realm."
Articulating a war cry, he jumped and shadows swamped him. His first slash swung wide, deflecting off a pewter pillar. A shield stopped Link's stabbing momentum and he pulled back, swinging his arm to get rid of the bone jarring impact. He sprang to the side when a monolith of metal swung down; the sword, tip flat like a spade, crushed stone tiles and Link inwardly thanked Nayru for his intact foot. Hopping, he wove through three strikes and smiled.
He could do this.
The Darknut raised its blade, twirled and smashed the side of Link's neck.
Bone crunched.
And Midna stared, saffron eye widening as her only hope crashed lifelessly to the floor, blood tracing a thin map from his eyes and mouth.
XXXXX
Skullduggery
The cover of night did nothing to shroud the huge ship moored at Windfall Island. Numerous white sails billowed in a breeze and the size left Link feeling insignificant.
Hopping off the King of Red Lions, Link surveyed the tower, he spied the captain of the pirates. A girl, older than him by perhaps four years. Smirking, he followed the brick building.
The Windfall lighthouse splashed a circlet of light on the indigo seas.
Creeping around the bomb shop, Link climbed the tower. Confirming the captain's presence next to the shop owner, an unimpressive figure sporting tufts of hair on either side of his bald head, the boy climbed down and loped in the shadows, making a beeline for the brigantine crashing gently against untamed shores.
A huge prow jutted out of the sea, looming across the land. Twirling his grappling hook, Link hooked the edge and shimmied up, ignoring the rope burns on his already bruised palms. Rolling, he dropped into a pile of stinking fishnets and slunk out of sight behind a large wooden crate full of meat. To his unending horror, the clouds parted, revealing the casket filled with goat legs. Holding his nose and fighting nausea, he retreated deeper in the isle of boxes and peeked above them, a puff of blonde hair and pitch eyes shining in the dark.
A man, front teeth protruding beneath the top lip and strands of hair hidden behind a bandanna, causally leaned against the door leading to the deckhouse. Another burly figure strode around the ship helm and Link kept on eye on the daggers slung on their waists.
These men were not trained, but in battle they aimed for vital organs. Chest, eye, groin. The blonde boy smiled. The pirate next to the barred door suddenly fished a bright blue, glowing stone from his back pocket. Perking, Link crawled closer, eyes stabbing the King of Red Lions' mysterious visitor.
"Nico," the boat's voice rang clear, "let Link inside the deckhouse, I want to confirm something." The man holding the pirate's charm idly surveyed the deck and Link ducked out of sight.
"Where is he?" Nico's voice bled, no longer lifeless and cold.
"Somewhere," the King of Red Lions remarked inexplicably. "Move aside, preferably far away, you don't want to meet the child's blade, I assure you," he paused, "it is sharp and he is not particular about cutting things."
Nico inhaled, eyes shifting and brought the stone closer to his mouth.
"The last time I remember," he whispered, "the boy was rattling in a drum just before we fired him into the Forsaken Fortress." He paused, listening to the waves breaking. "No doubt he is an animal, but one without fan-" Nico's head jerked to the side as a goat hoof soared out of the air and nearly missed his forehead. "Fine," the deckhand agreed reluctantly. "But once Tetra finds out, you will pay dearly," he threatened and melted into the night his footfalls fading.
Head rising, Link vaulted over the boxes, dashed to the door and turned the doorknob. Locked. Fuming for a second and imagining Nico's rabbit toothed smile, Link strained against the door and when the heavy wood refused to budge, he kicked. A spinning stomp blasted the middle apart and he ducked through the hole, wiping splinters from his cap. The deckhouse opened to a wooden corridor lining the compartments and bunkers. A set of steps led belowdecks and he searched for the Captain's quarters. A quick look on the top most hallway revealed nothing but cannons, shells and armor. Descending into the belly of the brigantine, Link skipped past hallways lit with candle stubs, he shuffled past the kitchen, hurrying when the sound of a knife hitting a block reached his ears. Jumping over the banister, he landed on the third stairway and stiffened when the wood groaned beneath his weight.
No, the whole ship groaned and rocked. He must be deep inside the sea.
He prowled, seeking for Tetra's elusive room. A giant lock glinted on a door well hidden in a corner and Link grinned. He grappled with the lock, smashed it open and in the process, dulled his sword. Clucking his tongue in annoyance, he slipped inside the room and raised an eyebrow at the opulence.
Lace curtains of salmon pink, draped a four poster bed. Next to it, a walnut chest gleamed in lamp light. A thick carpet of feathers splayed over the floor and turning to the right, Link glimpsed a gold accented chest. Creeping past a half open wardrobe, he stopped and pushed the Captain's clothes, which consisted of Capri pants and sleeveless tunics, aside. Pinned to the back of the wardrobe, his hands brushed a portrait. The individual appeared to be a princess, clothed in a traditional pink dress and royal regalia. Squinting, Link moved closer to the poster and stilled when a thud echoed from above deck. Giving the painting one last, hard stare, he moved to the glinting treasure chest and inserted the key, lying conveniently on Tetra's dresser. Satin lined the inside and he snatched ancient scrolls, tucking them carefully into his bag.
According to the King of Red Lions, the pirates possessed an accurate history of this realm. He suspected Nico hid important information.
Squeezing out of the room, he retraced his path to the top where shadows converged. Sword at the ready, he crashed through the door remains, his blade whistled and rebounded as it met steel.
"Look what the fish dragged in." The pirate captain winked and deflected Link's sword. "My boys tell me you snuck inside my boat, wrecked the door to the deckhouse," she indicated the gaping hole, "and snuck all the way to my room."
"Probably," Nico added, wringing his hands and Link glimpsed steel in his eyes.
"Probably snuck into my room," Tetra conceded. "Now, what were you doing in my ship and why didn't you contact me at the Forsaken Fortress?" the female demanded. "If I recall correctly, you owe me travelling fees, now cough it up." She held out a calloused hand and Link dumped his wallet unhesitatingly. "That's it?" Tetra shook the cloth pouch doubtfully, "you expect me to accept this?" Her eyes flashed in rage. "You had a little coffer full of rupees, give me those and I'll over look you stealing our bomb bag which," her voice rose, "is stuffed full of premium goods."
Jet eyes regarded the tanned female towering before him and Link mentally noted all the pirates surrounding their captain like bees protecting their queen. Two flashed daggers and sat on crates, barring his only escape route. The burly one blocked the passage to the wheelhouse, hairy forearms crossed over his chest. Nico leaned against the deck house, grinning and tossing the pirate's charm in his palm.
"Whale got your tongue?" Tetra teased. "I think of myself as an honorable pirate," Link scoffed, "and I'd appreciate it if you held your end of the bargain."
Link twirled his sword and buried it in its sheath. "That's all the money I have, honest." He held his palms up. "I spend most of my funds feeding fighting fish and seagulls and...I don't remember making any bargain." Tetra's eyes widened and when the rest of the crew shifted to accommodate her, Link darted past the astonished captain and scrambled for the taffrails. Several men scrabbled after him and a whistle nicked his ear. Staggering to a stop, Link touched his outer ear and stared at his fingers stained in red.
"Not so fast." Tetra hissed. "We took you to the Fortress, we got you inside!" Her irises sparked in indignation. "You promised us money, my ship got dented because of the cannons lining that god forsaken island and you want to slip your way out of this mess like an eel?" Her dagger, buried in the wood, quivered. "I don't think so." Two men flanked Link and she raised her hand, signaling them to a stop. "What happened to Aryll?"
"Still in the dungeon." Link replied, holding her gaze evenly.
A flicker of realization passed her face, so subtle, Link failed to read it. "You are not him," she muttered under her breath and he petrified. Dismissing her crew with a flick of her wrists, Tetra waited till Nico, useless idiot, stumbled into the ruined deckhouse and complained of fixing the doors. "You are not him," the captain repeated and studied the lean, blonde boy who did not shiver. "The Link I know will start bawling at the mention of Aryll sitting alone in the dungeon." Holding a cutlass to his throat, she demanded, "Who are you and what did you do with Link?"
The stolen parchments crumpled in his bag but thankfully, Tetra was too preoccupied with him to care of suspicious sounds. "Girls shouldn't play with swords," he stated and pushed the blade away from his throat. "And having your sister kidnapped changes people." He shrugged. "I really have no money, I suppose we'll see each other again and I'll pay my due. For now," Link back flipped and stood perilously on the taffrail, "I'm leaving to check up on my Grandmother, see you later, Tetra." Doing a lazy, two fingered salute, he dove off the edge.
Tetra dropped her cutlass, the nerve of that boy! Running to the edge, she registered a faint plop in the sea and eyed her telescope just in time to see a sodden figure climb on board a vividly red boat. Cursing under her breath, she retrieved her dagger, sheathed her cutlass and strode to the helm.
Link...the sniveling boy waving tearfully at his Grandmother and this person...
Where they the same?
Unseen by her, Nico slithered from the shadows and watched the red boat disappear to the south.
Two weeks later, the King of Red Lions, navigating through a heavy downpour, nosed its way to Outset Island. A curtain of water obscured his vision and the figurehead swung this way and that, unable to determine the direction of the pier. In the grip of a hectic fever, Link tossed in the deckhouse, unable to man the extra sail he swiped form the pirates. The cloth, too big for the boat's small mast, hung awkwardly. Rain splashed the deck, a constant drum.
Heading to the east, the King of Red Lions struggled valiantly against a whirlpool and his spirits sunk. Was Jabun really hiding here? If so, why the raging storms? The miniscule watercraft steadily drifted off course and into the eye of the whirlpool. Fighting tooth and nail, the boat eventually eased its pressure, hoping the vortex's outer fringes will deposit him somewhere safe. To his dismay, the gurgling water pulled him in like a magnet and through the sheet of silver and pewter; he glimpsed a giant sheet of stone, blocking the entrance to a natural cave.
A large crest etched the stone.
Nayru's symbol of three circles, positioned in a triangle, and nestled by crescents.
Coincidence?
"No." Link appeared at the bow, soaked from head to toe; the King of Red Lions whipped his head to the side and collided against the boy's pink cheek. "Jabun must be safe inside there," steam rose from his mouth, "I'm readying the cannon; you make sure to stay in sight of the giant door so I can break it down," Link slurred and tottered towards the stern.
Struggling against the tempest, growling clouds and the occasional, blinding flash of thunder, the boat ordered, "Get back to bed! You cannot operate a cannon in your state!" The boy slipped on the rain slicked deck and lay at the foot of an iron chest. "Link, really, we can do this after your fever has gone down. What did I say about taking care of yourself? Health is not about how much muscle you put on your skinny frame." Instead of listening, the child obstinately wheeled the cannon into view.
"How are you gonna get out of his whirlpool?" Link asked and lit the fuse, the first cannonball rocketed into the water, sending a tidal wave slapping across Outset Island's shore. "Despite all your other skills, you can't get out of this storm. Lord Jabun must be causing it, possibly to deter whoever is on his tail and so, it is our duty to smash through and comfort him with our presence." Another cannonball soared out of the smoking barrel and met its mark; kissing the stone slab with a thunderous crack. "I'm...I'm good." Link sneezed, a glob of mucus joined the water running the deck and his face twisted to disgust. "As soon as we -a-choo!" A barrage of sneezes punctuated his sentences while the King of Red Lions drifted aimlessly closer and closed his eyes each time the stone split with an ear shattering crash. "-mother and stay till my fever is gone. Deal?"
The boat sighed, "Whatever you say, boy."
Roaring water and wind sucked them towards the door, threatening to smash boy and boat into scarlet matchsticks and blood flecked bone. Craters and webbed cracks marred the slab of stone and Link screwed the spyglass to his eye, breathing a sigh of relief when the bottom part of the sheet crumbled into the restless sea. Leaving the cannon, he wrestled with the horizontal boom and held the sail, angling it so the tempest pushed them inside the cave. A predatory howl of wind torpedoed them through the broken arch of rock and once inside the stalactite riddled hollow, the storm's wails died down.
A dim lantern swayed in the middle of the grotto, illuminating wet walls. Fixated on the bobbing lantern, Link gripped the mast and his eyes travelled to a pair of humungous, orange rimmed eyes. He sensed a gigantic shape resting in the cavern and the faint light, which he belatedly realized was part of Jabun's head, vibrated.
"Jabun, old friend," the King of Red Lion's greeted and his noble tone bounced against barnacle encrusted rocks. "You do not know how happy I am to hear of your escape from Greatfish Isle."
"..." Firelight eyes studied the feverish child and Jabun's thick lips broke into a defeated smile. "You are Link, the brave, the hero." At this, the boy puffed his chest and stood tall, but the soggy pajama stuck to his lanky frame, ruined the image. "Yes, the loss of Greatfish Isle, my people, my home was a great tragedy. I escaped whilst they destroyed my island and killed its inhabitants." A mournful whale's bellow escaped Jabun's open mouth and he shook his head. The lantern detached from the stem glued to his head and clattered on deck. Reverently, Link picked the orb, pallid features glowing as he investigated Nayru's pearl. "With all three pearls in your possession, you may now raise the Tower of the Gods," Jabun related without enthusiasm and the cave walls rumbled as his voice lowered in pitch.
Gripping the pearl tightly, Link carefully wrapped it in a wad of linen and stored it in his sack, next to the other goddess pearls. A chill wracked his body and he listened as the King of Red Lions and Jabun delved into a conversation held by ancient tongue.
The boat left the grotto, emerging in a calmer storm. A drizzle sprinkled Link's already wet hair and tiredly, he rowed to the pier. Clambering out, he shivered, patted the figurehead on its cottony beard and shielded his eyes from the gentle patter of rain. Evening swallowed the sun and he eyed the identical houses, thatched roofs sagging under the weight of a deluge.
Wrapping arms around himself, Link wove through tall grass and climbed uphill, he kept away from the stone footpath and set his sights on a wooden house situated on top of a hilly outcrop. Link's house, he thought and the front porch creaked under his weight. Dragging unresponsive feet towards a curved door and a polished doorknob, he hesitated, eyed the speck of a red boat drifting alone on the sea, and inhaled deeply.
The door opened.
Inside, an old woman sat in a rocking chair, near the half dying fire place. Cold and warmth clashed in the home. Rumpled sheets and clean carpets indicated a well-kept place devoid of occupants. Pictures decorated the mantelpiece and Link forced himself to close the door and tend to the woman mumbling anxiously in the wicker chair.
"Grandmother," he breathed and stroked her cold hands with his burning ones. "I'm home." Instead of responding, she sunk lower in the blankets cocooning her. "Grand-mother?" Link called and frowned. "Granny?" No, that did not sound right. "Gramma?" The embers in the hearth glowed briefly. "Grandma?" He tried again and the old woman, wrinkles lining waxy skin, briefly stirred and rested unfocused irises on him.
"Ohhh...Aryll, Link," she moaned and he clasped her fragile hands tighter, trying to transfer warmth, "why did you leave me so?" Grandma continued and convulsed. "First your parents and now you, come back my children...Come back." She rocked a little and her toes bumped against Link's wet shin. Shuddering, she collapsed into a sleep disturbed by fits and moans, and the boy stepped back, breathing heavily.
For once, Link did not know what to do. Clearly Grandma was in no state to talk or even look after herself. He lifted a lid hanging over the hearth and the delicious aroma of broth hit his nose. Suddenly hungry, he clattered to the kitchen, ladled soup in his bowl and ate, his mind whirring.
Someone looked after this old woman...maybe the islanders? Grandmother was clearly in shock and he concernedly eyed her as her limbs jerked and she moaned, growing paler by every second. Her erratic jerking reminded him of his sleep terrors. Wiping his lips with a napkin, Link strapped his weapons and headed for the door. "Don't go..." Grandma muttered from her chair. "Don't leave your Grandma behind..." she mumbled, fast asleep.
"I promise to return," Link replied, fingers tight on the door knob, the drizzle eased into an occasional, lazy drop plopping from an overcast sky. Boots squelching in mud and grass, he stepped on the stone path and examined the houses, stiffening when a tall, willowy female, balancing a water jug on her head, came out and paused. Jaw set, he marched to the woman and her eyebrows widened in surprise.
"Gods..." Sue-belle exhaled and brought her palm to her mouth. "Link...Oh my goodness you are back!" she exclaimed and held the pot on her head. "Your Grandma, oh dear, she has taken sick ever since you went after Aryll." Link nodded and thanked her quietly. "You look sick yourself," Sue-belle pressed her hand against his forehead and gasped, "you have a fever, go rest, I'll come by tomorrow and check up on both of you."
The blonde boy shook his head. "Grandma got worse," he explained. "I need to get some medicine to help her..." he faltered when Sue-belle regarded him oddly. "I know I'm not supposed to be running around, I found Aryll but I couldn't rescue her...I'm still working on that." Link gulped in a lungful of air, talking required effort. The shops must all be closed in the storm; he mused and tiredly skimmed the island. "How can I get Grandma back to normal?" he asked, "I can't rest until she's better."
The corners of the woman's eyes crinkled into a soft smile. "You love your grandma very much don't you?" Link refused to reply, he did not know what to think. "...Well, we haven't had medicine in the shops for ages, you know how the trade boats don't come so south..." Link impatiently hopped on his frosted toes, mentally urging her to hurry up with whatever she had to say. "The Fairy Forest," Sue-belle said and pointed to a dense growth of trees on top of the hill rooted on the island. "Long ago, it used to be teeming with fairies, now you only see a few if you are lucky. Catch one of them and give it to Grandma, she will recover quickly."
Nodding and throwing her a harried smile, Link hurried away to the Fairy Forest.
Sue-belle watched him go and a raindrop plopped on her cheek. She considered the lonely figure of Link, fighting his way through tall grass and grappling up the mountain.
Since when did he become so...so different?
A/N: Link finally meets the Grandma of everyone's dreams. Is there anyone who hates her? No? Good. I never really met any of my grandparents, my paternal grandfather died six months after I first saw him. I don't miss him and I think I cried, I'm not sure.
Respect to all Grandmas and Grandpas out there, the non-toxic ones.
At Novirp13: It's more like, this ain't my body so why should I care? In this fic, WW Link is a bit of a glutton, he likes food. Food glorious food! Whereas TP Link's body is in perfect shape due to his herding work and sword practices.
Much thanks to Sayla Ragnarok for liking the story. Hope it lives up to your expectations
Once again, please read and review, constructive criticism is greatly appreciated. Grandma cookies to everyone who needs them.
