Chapter 6: Dreams and Disguises
Late Evening, June 27, 610 GK, The War of Imprisonment, Day 352
Somewhere in Central Hyrule
Link quietly stirred the coals of his little campfire and carefully added additional wood as it was needed. The small glade he and Epona now sheltered in offered plenty of twigs and small branches – dried by the summer heat -, but Link was very cautious not to build his fire too large. The day before, he had passed the Hylian lines and was now hiding in the "no-man's-land" that lay between Zelda and Ganon's territories. Here, enemy patrols were common and many of Alfon's best scouts had disappeared in this area without a trace.
Epona lazily wandered around the glade, nipping at the grass growing beneath the canopy and occasionally looking back at her master. The sun had already dipped below the horizon and the bright orange of the western sky was quickly fading into a pink/purple twilight. As the boy watched the little flames of his fire, his mind drifted back over his memories of the ranch, the flight from the bats, and then to Malon.
He had forgotten to say goodbye to her before he left -he was too distracted from the events in the throne room. Link didn't always warn her that he would be going on missions, but she was always sure to let him know that she was disappointed when he returned. She would frown silently at him, and pretend to ignore him for several minutes before eventually making her way over to where he stood. She would always set her hands onto her hips and lean to the right and left – checking him over for any wounds or damage to his armor. With an embarrassed apology and a little coaxing, Link could always get her to forgive him and they would embrace.
Malon did not complain with words -that was not her way- but Link had learned how to read her messages and always tried to make up for it. Once, he had convinced Telma to let him slip some wildflowers into her room before she went to bed. Another time, he had traded with an Akkalan traveler for a polished amber gemstone and given it to her upon his return. She took it, turned it over in her hands, then looked up at him with a shy smile. The would-be knight tried to say something romantic like "I thought it would go well with your hair." but he was too nervous and awkward, and just muttered, "I thought... you'd like it."
He always tried to do his best with Malon, but it was strange trying to take care of a girl. Sometimes she was needy and clung to him when he was near. At other times, she would be distant and not want him around. For Link's part, he was always glad to be around her when he had the time. It wasn't just that she was pretty -she seemed to really understand him. His anger, his loneliness, and most of all: his loss.
In the past year, Link had told her of his time in the Kokiri Forest, the bullying and teasing he received from some of the other children for not being "a real Kokiri", and of Navi and the short time they were together. Malon never said much -she knew nothing of the forest or that magic that dwelt there-, but she listened closely to his stories and would hold his hand during the more emotional portions.
Despite Link's trust and openness to her, Malon was much more reluctant to relive the past. Once or twice, she told him of happy memories of her mother and father -before her mother died and Ingo had to come to the ranch. Mother and father had run the ranch together, while little Malon trotted around playing with the animals. But after Talon's wife passed, things became much more somber.
He struggled to find the motivation to keep the ranch going and was forced to hire Ingo as his primary hand. He always tried to be cheerful and happy around his daughter, but she often caught him sobbing alone, or drooped over the table with an empty bottle beside him. Link's eyes watered slightly as he imagined little Malon, rubbing her father's back and begging him to "cheer up papa", while he struggled to hide the bottle and wear a false smile.
But these stories were very rare and Malon often resisted Link's questions with a silent shake of her head. She would slide her stool closer to his, grasp his hand, and just rest her head against his shoulder quietly.
The first time she'd done this, Telma and Talon both stared apprehensively at the teenagers hiding at the back of the tavern. Link -knowing her father was watching- remained rigid and still until the girl had enough and left him. Over the next few months though, the watchful parents relaxed and only darted the occasional glance their way.
So, the squire gradually began to rest his cheek against the top of Malon's head and even wrap one arm around her shoulders. She seemed to appreciate the closeness and her curly red hair was soft and smelled wonderful to Link. Beyond the smoke from the hearth, the smell of the ale and food, and even the healthy portion of Telma's perfume that seemed to get everywhere, there was something that was just Malon and it was warm and comforting to him.
The longer Link thought about her, the faster his heart seemed to beat. His mouth slowly turned dry and his throat felt tight. Even here, far away from the lake, he began to feel nervous about being around her – until a sudden, curious thought came to him. Like a whisper in his ear the words, "I wonder what Zelda's hair smells like." Floated across his mind. For a few seconds, Malon's medium blue eyes became Zelda's sky blue; her fiery red hair rippled into golden blond. Zelda's skin was soft, smooth, and delicate. The squire drifted dreamily with the royal specter, before realizing what he was doing. He slammed his eyes shut tight and shook his head angrily. For months he had hated her; how could he now be daydreaming about her?! "She could never compare to Malon!" he growled to himself as he snapped the stick he was using to stir the fire and threw its pieces in to burn.
Link's dinner was comprised of an unlucky squirrel he was able to snare, several handfuls of summer berries that grew within the glade, and a biscuit from his rations pack. Link drank freely from his waterskin as the clear Zora river now flowed close by. Once complete darkness fell, He would slip silently to its bank and replenish his supply. Epona, having followed her companion and drank her fill, found a thick bed of fallen leaves near his fire and laid down for the night. The young soldier unrolled his bed and laid down under the tree-canopy. He wouldn't need a blanket tonight -it was far too hot- so he folded it and used it as a pillow. No stars could be seen through Ganon's cloud here, but the dying firelight danced and flickered off the underside of the tree canopy and Link's eyes lazily drifted over the different leaves and twigs above him.
On his patrols with Russell or Viscern, he had been trained to sleep very lightly and awaken at the slightest sound. The "soldier's sleep" as they called it was not very restful, but it was necessary to stay alive when away from safe locations. Tonight, however, the squire drifted into a much deeper sleep and wandered through many strange dreams. He did not sense the large shadow that perched in the branches above him, watching him intently with large blue eyes.
~At Lake Hylia~
Princess Zelda had struggled to avoid Impa's glaring eye after the incident in the throne room. When her attendant returned from meeting with Lord Alfon, she insisted that the princess accompany her on another meditation session. "But... it is not yet sundown Impa. We'll be seen." The young sovereign objected. Her minister was unsettled and the princess knew why. She hoped she could dissuade the sheikah from forcing her into her graceful state so soon after the connection with Link. But Impa would not be deterred and insisted that the princess accompany her to her chambers.
"We will disguise you this time, your grace." she explained, "I'm certain you have the strength for it." Zelda didn't understand what she meant by "the strength", but her curiosity was piqued when Impa retrieved a strange set of sheikah clothes from a small trunk in her room. "Here your grace, you must change into these." But the princess hesitated. She was not shy about changing in front of Impa - the attendant had been dressing her since she was very small - but the new clothing she offered was very different from the elegant dresses the princess was used to. "W-what is it?" she asked timidly.
"This is the clothing of sheikah assassins and spies, your grace." Impa explained, holding the tight body-suit out to the princess. "They are enchanted to suppress noise and enhance the wearer's agility. They can also conceal the identity of the sheikah if he or she is magically gifted." She added as Zelda took the garment and held it up. "It looks a little... 'tight' and... 'revealing' Impa." The princess winced with blushing cheeks. "Yes... well..." stammered Impa, her own cheeks turning slightly pink, "Your... ahem... 'feminine form' is still young, your grace, so the tightness may help you pass as a young man. You will also be able to wear additional clothing over it, to better conceal yourself in a crowd." The princess suddenly lowered the garment and stared at her attendant in shock, "...A what Impa?!"
After several awkward minutes, Impa was able to pull the suit onto the princess and began to instruct her in its use. Zelda, having never worn such clothing, struggled to cover herself with her arms and hands as her guardian spoke. "... the more drastically you attempt to- Your Grace please, do not fuss! The more drastically you attempt to change your appearance, the more your power will be taxed." "What do you mean?" the princess asked nervously, still trying to subtly cover herself. "Well," Impa began, "If you wanted to make yourself look like a sheikah assassin: you would need to use very little power to alter your face, hair, and body shape - as your clothing would be free to be seen for such an identity."
Zelda's apprehension soared at the idea of a crowd of Hylians seeing the precise curves and contours of her body. "No no no!" she insisted, "It must be a complete concealment! Clothing and all!" "Then..." Impa replied with hesitation, "It will take a great deal of concentration and strength from you, your grace. At all times!" The princess hurriedly insisted that Impa teach her what she needed to know. She was willing to look like anything, so long as no one could see her like this.
Several tiring hours passed as Impa and Zelda drifted through the silent darkness, echoing question and instruction to one another. "Picture a man. Any man. One that you can see clearly your grace. A simple man, one who would not draw attention. Someone from a crowd in the market." The princess tried her best to remember some townsfolk she had seen, but her mind was unable to clearly form what any of them look like. "It's useless!" she exclaimed in frustration.
"Remain calm, your grace, this is a very difficult skill to learn. Even my master could not fully alter his appearance for long. Think of a man that you know well. One who's features come to mind clearly and easily." Zelda's mind struggled against the urge to picture Link. "Not him... not him... not him!" she pleaded to herself as she frantically tried to think of any other man she could clearly see. "Alfon!" she shouted suddenly, as the statuesque image of Lord Alfon took shape and stood before her. "Excellent, your grace, though Lord Alfon would be both a difficult and dangerous form to take. Many know him and many see him every day. You would have to assume his personality perfectly to pass yourself as the Lord-Marshal. Also, he is much taller and more heavily built than you or I, it would take a great deal of your power and concentration to match him."
Zelda carefully studied the armored form of her knight. She knew he was a large man, but she had never really paid attention to his body - there was never a reason. Now she began to see the broad shoulders, the thick muscled arms, the sharp, square jaw under his close-cut beard, and the deep, trusting brown eyes. "He's handsome... and big." she mused absentmindedly. She meant it as she were imagining being a large, strong man. If she had to pass through a crowd, being intimidating as well as handsome must prove useful.
Impa however, feared the princess' interest was otherwise and quickly cast the image of Alfon away. "Too public! Too well known!" she shouted, "Someone else! Someone much lower ranking!" The princess desperately rolled through the different captains, guards, and ministers that she knew, but all were swept away as "too well known" by her teacher. Finally, when her frustration won out, Zelda summoned the form of Link.
His image took no effort for her. His sandy-blonde hair, his deep blue eyes, sharp nose, and boyish chin. Piece by piece, Zelda made sure he was perfectly accurate and true. Impa, standing beside her in the darkness, clenched her teeth apprehensively. She knew this would be the easiest choice for Zelda to train with, but she feared what the princess might reveal in such an intimate state.
"Link is... a good choice," she began carefully as Zelda sighed and stared into the eyes of his statue, "...he is more freely able to move about the camp without drawing attention. But he is still well known, your grace." The princess was barely listening to her though -her mind was drifting over the memory of Link's rage. As her mind turned over the memory statue-Link's eyes shifted to an intimidating red. "A sheikahn Link, your grace?" Impa asked.
Completely by accident, Zelda had brought inspiration to her attendant. "Keep the red eyes, your grace... lengthen his hair... and lighten it to nearly-white, just like a sheikah... and now his clothing..." she drifted off in thought, but Zelda was too quick for her. Sheikah-Link's was replaced by the form-fitting dark tights that Zelda now wore. With another soft sigh, Zelda ran her eyes over his muscles and the lines of his body.
"That was... quick your grace." Impa murmured, shocked at how much the princess seemed to have changed. "Hmm?" Zelda questioned, forgetting her warden was there, before shaking herself free of the warm daydream. "Ahem- Link is an armored soldier, your grace, not a stealthy assassin. His 'build' would be much thicker and heavier than what your assassin would be. You should make this one slenderer and more nimble." The princess did her best to imagine him as a stealthy shadow and acrobat rather than a muscled soldier. "Good, very good your grace. Now we need to give him a name." Impa finished.