Amali helps Zelda get cleaned up. Her hair gets combed and braided back, and even though she can still feel whisps of too short hair itching against the sides of her face, Amali says she looks lovely and Zelda can't help but believe her. Zelda's face gets scrubbed. She eats another two vegitarian rice triangles and brushes her teeth and uses the washroom. She gets dressed in her bright red shirt and her traveling pants, and when she's done, she feels more like herself, even with the foggy cloud of Naboris hanging in the back of her mind, trying to push her way in, trying to lure her back. The Divine Beast is successful enough that Zelda zones out several times while getting ready But Amali has braided her hair so she can give it an easy tug, jerking her back to herself. Zelda appreciates it, but her scalp does not.
With the zoning out and the weakness in her limbs, it takes far longer than she would like before Zelda looks presentable. Amali has sent Link with a long list of errands, and he gets back just as Zelda steps off Naboris and onto the sand. Kass is with him, and Amali rushes forward to throw her arms around his neck. He spins, sending her swinging around and laughing, and it's only because her body swings out that she doesn't squash his accordion.
Link hesitates, giving her a shy, worried look. She's still irrationally angry that he wanted to tear her from Naboris. She knows deep in her bones that he most definitely had a half-dozen ill conceived plans to kidnap her away or blow up the main control until or activate Vah Ruta solely in order to battle the two Divine Beasts against each other. But even though she's angry, she still makes the first move to step close to him. She doesn't meet his eyes, but brushes her fingers against the back of his hand.
He sweeps her into a hug, and she's still woozy enough that it almost throws her off balance. He holds her up, a firm hand clutching the back of her shirt, one hand digging into her braid. He presses his face hard to the side of her head. "You scared me."
Her arms loosen from where they're trapped against his chest, her shoulders easing as she sinks against him. She can't quite bring herself to give an adequate closes her eyes and presses her forehead to his shoulder. "Thank you."
He releases her when Kass and Amali step closer. As if he can sense her weak knees, Link doesn't pull away entirely. He holds her elbow as he digs yards and yards of white fabric from his pockets, handing one end to Amali even as he continues to pull out more. He looks a bit like a street magician. Finally, they get everything sorted so the fabric takes shape as four white shawls of thin, translucent fabric. Amali drapes one over Zelda's shoulders and wraps it once over her head, before repeating the process for herself.
They're traditional Gerudo funeral scarves. The color of morning. Covering their heads in reverence.
Zelda's fist bites so hard into the end of the fabric that hangs down her chest that her nails snag in the flimsy fabric.
Link then presents her with a shield. The colors are vivid, the gold shining in a sunburst pattern. The jewels set inside it are sharply cut and glinting. The Daybreaker. Urbosa's shield.
"She would want you to have this."
She swallows hard, fighting her voice into working. "It's going right back up on the wall where you had it."
"But it will be yours."
She shakes her head. She can't take her eyes from the dance of light against the ruby in the center. "You deserve it more."
He lowers his head just a fraction to whisper to her. "I'll keep the sword, and we'll call it even."
She wraps her arms around the shield, hugging it to her chest. "Why are you doing this?"
"You didn't get to say goodbye."
She feels the tears as they gather under her chin before she feels the burn in her eyes.
Kass clears his throat. The feathers on his head make his funeral scarf pop up on top. "If you don't mind," he says gently, "there's a song I'd like to share with you."
She nods her head, and they look out at the sun setting over the desert, the light and the sand as golden as the shield in her arms. She forces her eyes open, forces herself to face the setting sun, forces herself not to duck her head and hide, not to fall back into Naboris. The Divine Beast listens too, swinging back and forth between heartbroken curiosity and not wanting to hear, not wanting Zelda to hear. They listen to Kass sing. The song is of Urbosa's strong leadership, of her love and kindness, of her fierce protectiveness and decisiveness with a blade. When she spun with her sword it looked as if she were dancing. It's a clearer picture of Urbosa than the voice that whispers at the tips of her ears. Kass reminds her of her bright blue lipstick and the sweep of her eyebrows. Zelda hadn't thought of those specifically in ages, and she smiles at the reminder. She hugs the shield tighter.
They stand quietly when the song ends. The last notes fade into the desert and she can't pinpoint the moment when they vanish under the wind.
She looks up as the stars twinkle into the sky, and she breathes deeply, letting her eyes slip closed, holding onto that memory of Urbosa's smirk over her sword.
"Goodbye," she says. "May the Goddess smile upon you."
#
A delegation of Gerudo arive in the main room the next morning. Zelda keeps her shoulders back and her chin lifted. She clenches her hands into fists so she doesn't wring them together.
"Zelda!" Riju says. The chief bounces up and kisses her on both cheeks. When she pulls back, her warm smile is at odds with the sharp, warning look in her eyes. "It's so good to see you recovered."
"It's good to be up and about again."
"I'm sure." Riju turns and guides her to the rest of the delegation, who stand pointedly in front of the main control unit. Buliara is there, along with Captain Teake and Barta, and Zelda has no illusion that they won't hesitate to stab her should she try anything underhanded.
She tugs up a smile for Barta. "Are you ready?"
Barta's back is stiff, her hand clenching and unclenching around her spear. She saw what happened to Zelda and looks concerned the same thing will happen to her. Or maybe she just thinks Zelda is weak and is concerned that Naboris has now caught her weakness. "As ready as I'll ever be, I guess. Are you ready?"
"Let me sing your praises for a moment."
Zelda closes her eyes. Link's hand snags around her upper arm and squeezes, and she reaches over to drum her fingers against his hand. I'm here. Just thinking.
Naboris, this is your pilot. Her name is Barta.
Naboris argues that Zelda is her pilot.
No. I'm a friend of your last pilot. I need to help others around Hyrule, and you need to stay with the Gerudo. We both have jobs to do.
Naboris presses that Zelda likes it here. She tugs Zelda towards the diagnostic program. When Zelda digs in her heels and refuses, Naboris sends her a flash of an image: Link kissing down her throat on the balcony. Zelda's face flames.
You were deactivated for that!
Naboris saw it in her memories. And either way, Naboris isn't wrong.
Link squeezes her arm again. She's stopped drumming her fingers. She resumes as soon as she notices.
Don't go showing that to your new pilot.
Naboris points out that there's only one way to keep that from happening.
You can't blackmail me. It's not that embarrassing.
Naboris doesn't believe her.
She's irritated enough that she changes the subject. She shows Naboris her memories of Barta fighting the mulduga and riding the waves of sand with liquid grace. Memories of Barta racing against Tali, the undefeated champion of sand seal racing and nearly winning. Of her sneaking into the throne room to eaves drop. Of her defending Naboris against the Yiga in the final battle.
Naboris shifts her attention to scan the Gerudo up and down.
She'll enjoy getting up to no good with you.
Naboris thinks about it, at the precipice of a decision.
Before she can make it, Zelda opens her eyes and steps forward. "It may be a difficult transition. Be welcoming and encouraging, she'll be able to sense your hesitation. But don't let her walk all over you either."
Barta nods, and Zelda makes quick adjustments on the slate. Little bird... She squeezes her eyes closed and slams the slate to the console. Blue energy rips across her skin. Every strand of Naboris rips from from her bones, sucked to the surface. The painfulness feels purposeful, vindictive. It's dragged up from her fingertips, from her toes, until it congregates in a bright ball in the center of her chest. It's so much pressure that she can't breathe, she can't see through the light, and when she wins the battle for an in-drawn breath, Naboris is forced out of her to crash against the control unit, reabsorbed even as particles of blue liquid splatter into the air.
It's as if the framing holding her up has vanished, and her legs give out beneath her. She catches herself on the console, and Link catches her under her armpits. He vision is cloudy. Her limbs are light and brittle, as if she'll float away or disintegrate. It's suddenly very lonely in her head, as if she's standing in a large, empty cave. Her lungs have too much room. And at the same time, it's almost like waking from a dream. Her mind is working clearly for the first time in days. With numb, shaking fingers, she sets a new program on the slate and sets it to the control panel.
The blue strands of light rise from the control unit. They're slower this time. Hesitant. They turn towards her, and she hardens her heart even as it breaks. No. Not me. They hover before her, waiting for any sign of weakness, and she narrows her eyes at them. The main shape of them doesn't seem to change, but the individual strands inside swirl faster, agitated. Like a school of fish swimming faster and faster inside their ball. When they turn on Barta, it's with a wild, swinging motion, so much like the movement of Naboris' neck. Barta gasps as they stab into her chest. She looks down at her arms as they swarm with blue designs, with symbols that fade into her skin. She closes her eyes, and takes a deep, unsteady breath as Zelda heaves a sigh of relief.
"How do you feel?" Zelda asks.
"It's...strange. I feel a pressure." Barta lifts a hand to the side of her head, another to her chest.
"Are you in communication with her?"
"I think so. I can feel...curiosity."
"Good. That's excellent."
Barta takes a moment to get used to it. A slow smile spreads across her face. She opens her eyes. "I think I can get her to move. How do I do that? How does that wor-"
Barta's eyes lose focus. Her body goes slack. Amali and Captain Teake grab for her to keep her from hitting the ground.
Zelda freezes. Barta has activated the diagnostic system. How has she-That's not something she'd be interested in.
Naboris is activating the system when she shouldn't be. Dragging her pilot down. It's not just Zelda, who asked. There's something actually wrong.
Zelda ducks under the control panel and strokes her fingers along one of the constellations emblazoned there. She presses against the stars in order, and an access panel pops open. She flips onto her back and slides inside the control unit, and-yes-there is most definitely a problem.
All the different tube-like wires, all woven together like a korok blanket come into the base structure from the onion dome above. They're supposed to be gathered together, secured to the base's roof and dragged together into a central mass, a column of wires. A large section has fallen from where it was secured to the top of the little enclosure. It now hangs down like a fishing net, and far too close to a glowing pipe, which provides power to the main control unit from the central generator in Naboris' chest. The wires are so hot that they're sweating, blue liquid dampening the outside casing, dripping onto the floor. The air is humid and smells of ozone.
"I need string," Zelda calls. "Or rope or wire."
"I've got a belt," Link calls back.
"I've got Barta's contestant scarf," says Captain Teake.
"Both." Zelda hauls the whole mess of wires up and out of the way, securing them back to the ceiling with a few quick loops of Link's belt. Blue liquid splatters across her arms, staining her hands. She mops up the wet wires with Barta's scarf, then hands it back out. Someone takes it from her.
"I need shielding. A sheet of metal maybe this big by this big." She holds her hands out to show the dimensions, and before she can pull them back, something is shoved into her hands. It's a shield. Oddly shaped with a Shiekah eye.
Link is kneeling, leaning in over her bent knees to watch her. "Let me know if you need something stronger. Or bigger."
She doesn't. The second she covers the pipe, the temperature drops ten degrees, and from out on the catwalk, Barta gives a startled gasp.
"What was that? Naboris just told me way too much about the air circulation system."
Amali nods. "And she wouldn't let you look away."
"Or even only half pay attention. She inserted it all straight into my brain!"
Zelda grabs the sides of the access panel and slides herself out. "Is it better now?"
Barta is sitting up, rubbing her eyes. "Well, she's not trying to give me a quiz, so yeah, this is an improvement. Actually, she seems...startled. Like she doesn't know what happened?"
Zelda knows the feeling.
"I think she feels embarrassed. Sorry." Barta stares off into space for a moment. Her face softens.
Zelda nods. "Are you ready to try to move her again?"
Barta straightens her shoulders. There's a light in her eyes. She's faced with an unpredictable challenge, and those are clearly her favorite. "Let's do it."
Barta does not grasp piloting as intuitively as Zelda did, with the aid of the Goddess and a hundred years of research and a crash course in leg movements imprinted into her brain. But then again, Naboris' gait is odd. She moves both legs on one side at the same time. It's not surprising that Barta has trouble with it, that she subconsciously swings her arms from the shoulder every time Naboris takes a step. They manage a few circles around Gerudo Town, with Riju preening from the balcony even as the Divine Beast rocks wildly side to side.
When they're done for the day, Barta starts arguing with the air about how the Divine Beast needs to lower to the ground. She sounds just as she did when she told her sand-seal that she was a stinky, drooly good girl. The descent to the ground is more a crash than a kneel, but they all manage to get back on their feet, so it's good enough.
As the rest of the group heads back into town, Link snags Zelda's elbow and holds her back. He doesn't say anything, just pulls her into his arms. Almost like he knows what a front she's put up today, how hard she's had to pretend that she was okay. She stops pretending. She presses her face to his neck and clutches at the back of his shirt. The tears are quiet. They leak out like the tubes in Naboris.
"You did good," he says.
"It was hard."
He leans the side of his head against hers. "But you did it."
She can feel his smile against her head. "And now you're back. And covered in blue gunk."
"Sorry." She tries to pull away so she won't stain his clothes any more than she already has. But he holds her in place. He whispers into her ear, "I like it."
She sniffs. "I like it too. Isn't that strange?"
"Not for you, Zelda."