Riju has decided to pick a Champion through a blend of the Goron policy of appointment and the Rito policy of epic spectacle via tournament. As the chief, she will put forth contenders, and they will compete in three trials, which everyone can watch and celebrate. It seems there is going to be a large "style" component, which makes the judging less numerical than the Rito's system. At the end of the trials, Riju will announce the new Champion based on who best encapsulates the Gerudo spirit.
When Link suggests having each contender fight a muldga, Riju sags dramatically in relief. "Perfect. There are four moldugas so there should be four contenders. I was going to have there be six contenders, but I couldn't think of a sixth and I was kind of meh on the fifth. Four it is!"
Riju doesn't even bat an eye at the suggestion that she send her potential champions to face off against giant monsters. She doesn't even seem to consider that they might be seriously hurt.
"Of course she's thinking about it," Link says as they head across the market, their business at the palace shockingly brief after a simple check in and a request that they deliver a message to Kass, who's staying at the bazaar to work on his song. "She just knows the Champions should be willing to risk their lives."
"Risk their lives for their country and the people under their protection. Not risk their lives for a spectacle."
"It's a test to see if they're brave enough and strong enough fighters."
"Strong enough fighters for what? There's no longer anything to fight."
"Not once they get those sand monsters!"
They end up in the canteen for a light dinner, where Link trails off half way through ordering at the bar to give an odd look to a woman across the room. It takes Zelda a moment to place her, and by then the woman is squinting at her as well.
"Zelda? The tech lab vai? That's your name, right?"
"Rhondson," Link says. "What are you doing here?" He walks over to take a seat at her table with Zelda following along.
"Link?" she asks. Her eyes bounce over him, up and down, up and down. Then she shrugs, says, "Huh!" and takes another sip of her drink.
"What are you doing back here?" he asks.
She scowls down at her drink like it's more bitter than she expected, then tosses back another mouthful. "Did you know they were serious about that naming convention thing?"
"What naming convention?" Zelda asks.
"Everyone associated with Bolson Construction has to have a name ending in 'son.' Did you not notice?"
She had, but she thought it was an odd quirk.
"Is that...an issue?" Link asks.
Rhondson tosses her hair over her shoulder and looks down at him imperiously. "Do you know what they call this drink?" she asks.
"No?"
"A virgin. Isn't that ironic. No, not ironic. Just rude. Rubbing it in that I can't have real alcohol." She takes a swig of it as if it's hard liquor and not juice.
"Congratulations?" Zelda says. She shoots Link a look from the corner of her eye, but he seems just as lost as she is. He just looks more content to be lost.
Rhondson lifts her glass in a toast. "Sarqso!" She drinks. "Hudson wants he baby to be a voe! A voe!"
"Yikes," Link says
"Doesn't he know how rare male Gerudo children are?" Zelda asks.
"I told him! He didn't believe me, and then he puffed himself up and said he could 'beat the odds.'"
Again, Link says, "Yikes."
"Right? And if the 'son' thing and the son thing weren't both bad enough, he wants to name it Harson. Can you think of anything more gross?"
"Doesn't he know that the Gerudo only name their children after the Sacrificed Sisters?" Zelda asks. "That's only about two thousand names."
"Apparently not!"
Link shakes his head in sympathy as his and Zelda's drinks and hummus arrive. "Furosa should come up with a new drink for you to make you feel better," he says.
"The 'Knocked Up,'" she suggests.
"The 'Leaving Your No Good Husband.'"
"Oh, I like that one!" They clink their glasses together.
If you ask Zelda, the naming convention is probably something Rhondson and her husband should have discussed before getting married. She must be frowning, because Rhondson glares at her. "What? Are you one of those vai who think we shouldn't leave husbands no matter how terrible they are?"
"Hardly," she says. "I was just thinking."
"What were you thinking?"
"I was thinking...in my family, all the first born women are named Zelda. My mother was Zelda, and my grandmother was Zelda, and my grandmother's mother was Zelda. If my husband attempted to ignore that tradition and tried to change it, I would be...upset."
Rhondson scrunches up her nose. "Doesn't that get confusing?"
Zelda blinks at her. "No."
"How do you know which Zelda you're talking about?"
They all had titles. Princess Zelda, Queen Zelda. And for most of her life, Zelda was the only living Zelda. Perhaps, in the future, the tradition will become confusing.
Instead of saying any of this, she says, "We had nicknames."
Link nods his head. "Like Zelda and Old Zelda and Baby Zelda."
She elbows him in the ribs.
"Hmm." Rhondson considers this, narrowing her eyes at the ceiling and drumming her fingernails against her glass. Then shakes her head. "No no. That's completely different. That's a family tradition that honors your Mzazi and your Vaba. The only person this awful idea honors is Bolson."
"Maybe you should pull a Zelda and name your kid Rhondson," Link suggests. "Then it's not about Bolson. It's about you."
Rhondson's eyes light. "Heeeeey, there's an idea! But Hudson won't go for it. He won't name a voe Rhondson, and he'll insist that it will be a voe."
"You could play the odds then," Zelda suggests. "Tell him that if the baby is a voe, you'll let him name him Harson, and if the baby is a vai you get to name her Rhondson. You have a one in a hundred thousand chance of Hudson getting his way."
"Devious," Link says.
"Thank you," she responds. "If he's not going to listen to reason and refuses to grasp this very basic concept of his wife's culture, then he deserves it."
The corners of Link's eyes crinkle as he smiles.
Suddenly, Rhondson's leaning far across the table, poking a finger so far in Link's face that Zelda worries she might rip off his veil. "And you," she warns. "Are you one of those Hylians who wants voe children?"
"I...no?"
"You will let her name all of her children. Even if she names every last one of them Zelda."
"Well, yeah."
It's suddenly far too hot in the canteen, and Zelda develops a sudden interest in the garnish atop her drink.
Rhondson sits back, pleased with Link's confused answers. "Good. But you don't have to worry about it for a while anyway. What are you, like twelve-years-old?"
"I'm eighteen," Link says.
Zelda drops the purple flower she was twisting between her finger and turns to him. "How do you figure that?"
"It was a few days after your seventeenth birthday when..." He darts a look at Rhondson. "...when I got myself hurt. And that was...something like fifteen months ago. That makes me eighteen and a bit."
She stares at him, waiting for him to realize the flaw in his logic. He doesn't seem to notice, as he's too busy trying to scoop as much hummus onto a naan as possible.
"Link...we don't have the same birthday."
That gets his attention, and he turns to her. He tilts his head like he has water in his ear and thinks on it a bit. At length, he concludes: "Huh." He lifts his eyebrows in a kind of shrug, like it's an interesting notion he hasn't considered before.
He doesn't ask if she knows how old he is. He doesn't ask if she knows the date of his birthday. He doesn't care.
His complete disinterest in his life Before has never shocked her before, but for some reason this has her reeling.
Rhondson shakes her head at them. "Hylians are so strange. Let me ask you: do you know what the deal is with socks?"
It's just confusing enough to snap Zelda from confusion about Link to confusion about Rhondson. "I beg your pardon? Did you say socks?"
"Yes. They go between your feet and your shoes and soak up all the foot sweat."
"What about them?" Link asks.
Rhondson throws her hands in the air and shouts, "Why!?"
"To soak up your foot sweat," Link says. "And to make it so you don't get blisters."
"Why don't you just wear sandals!?"
"So you don't stub your toe on rocks."
"Look where you're going and go around the rocks!"
The argument only gets more preposterous from there as Link decides he's going to defend closed-toed shoes to his dying breath and Rhondson fails to understand anything he has to say. It ends with Link telling her it'll be a long hike back to Tarrey Town in sandals, and her telling him that she made the trip once already and it was fine. Also, she's going to get a ride on Vah Medoh when the Divine Beast comes back next week. She wants Hudson to be shocked when she steps off the monster like it's no big deal. Also, she's going to look amazing doing it. She's going to buy a new outfit and a whole bunch of new bracelets.
#
Furosa overhears that they're headed to the bazaar, and hands them a package of spices to deliver to Kachoo at the inn. Link tosses Zelda his sand boots, and she ducks into the washroom at the canteen to change. "Wear your silly red shirt," Rhondson calls after her. It's advice she follows, but doesn't understand until later.
Since men aren't allowed inside the city, all the voe assemble at the oasis in a kind of tent town, where they wait for their chance to sell their goods or make a favorable impression on the women of the city.
"If Amali hadn't introduced Kass as her husband, he wouldn't have had to stay at Kara Kara," Link says. "The Gerudo can't tell which of the Rito are men."
He's hopping on one foot as he pulls back on his favorite pants, having stripped off his outfit the moment they left the city. They're within sight of the gate guards, who watch him in interest and don't seem the slightest bit offended. This late in the day as the temperature has started dropping, and he opts for his Champion's tunic, only bothering to put up his hair in the Gerudo style. Zelda can't say she cares for this.
"Kass wants to honor the Gerudo's rules," she says.
Link tugs his last belt tight and gives her a smirk before they head along the path. With the monsters cleared out and the temperature at a reasonable level and the sand boots, it's not a difficult walk.
They can hear the music as soon as they reach the bazaar. It seems that most of the people have lost interest in Kass, and they go about their business as if they can no longer hear him. Honestly, everyone seems much more interested in Zelda's presence than the musical Rito. She realizes that if the men watching her now could see her navel, she'd feel even more uncomfortable.
As they pass the only permanent building, Link says, "Let me run into the inn and drop this off real fast," and she nods and turns to admire the nearby fruit stand. She's not really hungry, and Link probably has dozens of hydromelons in his stores. But they do look good, all bright green and ripe. She taps one and it makes a hollow thunk.
"Excuse me."
She looks up to see a nervous Hylian man in glasses has slipped up beside her.
"I couldn't help but notice your sand boots."
She looks down at herself then smiles. "Yes. They're quite amazing."
"And they're so rare. It's astonishing that you have a pair."
She's about to tell him that she's just borrowing from her—but then she trips over what label to use for Link, because the only thing she can come up with is "my voe," and that's...hmm. Before she can get her brain working again, he sighs loudly. "I used to have a pair of sand boots. I loaned them to the woman I was courting. I really should have known it would end in tragedy. She was so feisty, so adventurous, so beautiful. She ripped my heart from my chest and used my boots to walk away."
"How terrible!"
He nods sadly. "She stole my heart and stole my shoes, leaving me at the mercy of the hot desert sand."
"That's...did she say anything? Why she was leaving or where she was going?" This sounds like one of the dozens of misunderstandings she's heard since traveling around Hyrule with Link. If they can find this woman, they'll probably find her in need of some sort of aid or trapped somewhere and unable to return to her beau. Zelda has faith that they can bring this ordeal to a happy conclusion and win over a few more hearts and minds.
"No," he says sadly. "I never knew where she was from. She traveled all over. To the Gerudo Highlands to find the Eighth Heroine and the lost sword. She was such an adventurer! So interested in history and Gerudo culture! And she had such an eye for photography! I was just about to declare my intentions, but she stopped me before I could finish and told me to not even try."
Oh. Well, that didn't sound promising. Unless the woman was trying to protect him from something? Unlikely.
Link has returned, but he hangs back, watching them. The look on his face is familiar, and it takes her a moment to place it as the same look he wore Before, when the court poet wrote that verse of extended metaphor comparing Zelda to a summer squash as her hair was the same color and her temperament just as sweet. Link's frown wasn't a look of jealousy, but rather one of annoyance that the song was inaccurate: squash are more orange than blond and he prefers them more savory than sweet.
Link was and is an expert on squash.
"Perhaps she's back in the Highlands," Zelda says. "Are there other lost cultural sites around there?"
"You...you would go look for her? Are you an adventurer as well?"
"I don't know if I'd call it that, although I do travel a great deal."
"You are as modest as you are lovely!"
He gives her a look that makes her question his devotion to his lost love and wonder what she's gotten herself into. At that moment Link finally steps forward. He doesn't loom over the man with glasses or glare at him or reach possessively for Zelda. He's not even standing as close to her as he usually does. He just walks up and offers her a bored look like he's ready to move on. But the man with glasses startles and takes a few steps back. He tries to make himself look larger, more intimidating, and straightens enough that Zelda realizes how low he was leaning towards her.
She blinks at both of them, the man with glasses looking irritated for being interrupted, Link with his blank look as he directs a silent question towards her.
She clears her throat. "This gentleman was explaining that the love of his life has disappeared. I don't want to make any promises, but perhaps we could keep an eye out for her."
"Definitely don't make any promises," Link says. Then to the man he asks, "Would it work if we could get a picture of her and send you her regards? I don't know if we'll be able to bring her here."
"Any word from her would make my heart soar. Especially," he turns to Zelda and blushes, "any word delivered by someone so kind and capable. Perhaps...perhaps you shouldn't worry yourself. It sounds like a dangerous, difficult journey. Maybe...you could...stay here? I was just about to get dinner..."
For the first time, Zelda thinks about not even attempting to solve someone's problem.
Link cuts in to ask, "What will you give her in return?"
The man with glasses blinks like he forgot Link was there. "Ex-excuse me?"
"If she finds your missing vai and brings you news? What will you give her?"
Zelda says, "He doesn't have to—" As the man says, "I don't know if I have anything left to give. Nothing you'd be interested in anyway. Just...just my heart." He looks at Zelda again.
Link looks him up and down, then says, "How about your shoes?"
"Link!"
"My...I just bought these!"
Link shrugs. "Alright. We probably wouldn't have found her anyway. And if you don't care enough about the young lady's feet to give up your shoes, then there's just no hope for you."
"No, but—Oh."
"Don't listen to him," Zelda says. She gives him a kind smile, then stops herself as he might get the wrong impression. "We'll keep an eye out for her."
Zelda grabs Link's sleeve and drags him away, lowering her voice so no one can hear. "You are not stealing this man's boots. He's already been through enough."
The corner of Link's mouth twitches.
Zelda stops walking. She stares at him a long moment before her eyes widen.
He—He didn't. Surely he didn't.
But he definitely did.
"Link!"
"He deserved it! He honestly thought I wasn't up to finding the Eighth Heroine!" He gives an offended scoff. Because, according to Link, what's really irritating is that this person doubted his capabilities. Not that he was trying to woo away Link's—she again stumbles over what to call herself.
Link slips a hand around her waist, and he tugs her into walking again. "All I'm saying is that the boots fit you surprisingly well, and if you want a new pair in the same size, they'd be real easy to get."
"I can't believe you sometimes."
He shrugs.
Kass stands on the edge of the encampment, looking out at the desert. When they approach, his playing ceases. "Oh! I didn't expect to see you out here."
"How are you liking the bazaar?" she asks. She's going to ignore Link for a while.
"It's lovely and the food is delicious. But I must say, spending such a short time with my family has made me miss them all the more."
She pats his wing with a sympathetic smile. "They'll return soon." Then she pulls out the scroll for him. "Riju wrote you a message."
He has to slip his wing from the strap of his accordion and balance it precariously in order to read it. After watching him for a while, Zelda suspects Kass may need glasses. She's seen him squint at his sheet music, and he now squints at the letter.
"Excellent!" he says. "She has agreed to meet with me tomorrow to share what she knows of Champion Urbosa. That will be a tremendous help in finishing the song."
"How is your song going?"
He nods as if I'm thought, folding away Rijus letter. Then he turns back towards the distant peaks of the Gerudo Highlands. "Good, good. I'm inspired by the desert. It's magnificent, isn't it? Such vast expanses. Such brutal conditions. And yet here the Gerudo thrive."
"They are a strong people."
"And Urbosa was their Champion." He looks at her from the corner of his eye. Then he lowers his voice to avoid being overheard by the voe that still watch her from a distance. Neither Link nor Kass are doing anything to dissuade them. She supposes ignoring them is a good response.
Kass says, "I hesitate to ask, as it seems you don't wish to speak of your identity. But I would assume you have some stories about the Champion Urbosa."
Link does shift closer, as if expecting her to faint again. She swallows and looks out to the desert. She feels the heat rising from the sand to warm her face, and she tries to listen only to the wind and the brushing sound of the shifting sand, listening only to what was here Before, as if she can trigger a happy flashback.
The thought makes her chest seize in fear, and she turns back to the camp with her face flushed.
"Her laugh was like thick fruit syrup," she says. "She had gentle hands. Like Amali's. She would braid my hair for me and tell me all the gossip—silliness really, but things I needed to know to survive at court. She would also poke a finger in my ribs and shock me, just a little touch of lightning, if I got too cheeky. And then she would laugh and I would poke her back, only without the lightning."
She blinks, realizing her eyes are warm and swimming, realizing Link is hovering close. "I'm sorry. This is difficult for me. I still can't grasp...Sometimes I go to write a letter to her or to make a note in my journal to remind myself to ask her something in person. I write out the whole salutation before I remember. And even then, I remember there's no mail before I remember she's not there."
"Do you ever finish the letters?"
"No."
"You should."
"What would be the point?"
Kass smiles down at her and sets his hands against his accordion once more. "There's mail again."
With that, he begins to play.
