I think I'm going to try to put trigger warnings at the top here because unlike Ao3, which has tags, this doesn't. So... (TW: Choking/violence)
The streets of Outset all looked identical, especially while moving quickly.
There were stalls, each cart individualized with its own selections of art, books, fruit, clothes. But as Zelda ran, pushing her way past everyone, they all began to blur into one giant stall that sold everything all together. She was jostled as she ran, her shoulders bumping into confused pedestrians watching this woman in a very formal dress running through the streets. Goddess, she needed to move faster. She wasn't inconspicuous.
She dared not look behind her. Pressing on through the main streets, she noticed the houses becoming fewer, her shoulders bumping fewer people, the road becoming less traveled, and the ground becoming more overgrown as she passed trees instead of homes and trails.
It was only when she lost her footing and slammed face first into a tall tree that she begrudgingly stopped to turn around. There was no one following her. No Ashai, nor Link. No pirate lying for her in wait.
Her face stung, and her tongue darted to her lip, tasting the bitter sting of blood. She grimaced and debated just letting it bleed, or sucking it to try to stop the bleeding.
Why are you even debating this?
Breathing hard and heavy, she took small comfort in the fact that no one was coming, but didn't want to wait to find out if they were truly on her trail. She made a large U and circled around. This direction was just for her initial escape.
She needed to get back to the beach. She needed to tell another crew who she and Paya were. She needed someone to recognize that there was competition and to get them off this cursed island sooner rather than waiting around for some invisible message from her father.
If someone had blabbed about who she was, then there was a good chance she wouldn't need to do much convincing to another crew. As Ashai herself admitted, another crew would be more than willing to kidnap her. She was a walking pile of rupees, and while the thought made her uncomfortable, she was more than willing to use it to her advantage.
She rounded the tree, hoping that anyone who might be chasing her would continue straight on. Besides, she knew that the beach was… somewhere in this direction. She'd seen it out the window.
She was facing the same way as the window… right?
But as she continued longer and longer, her feet hurt in her tight shoes that weren't meant for running or trekking through overgrown paths. Her legs burned with the effort of keeping her going long after she'd become too tired to run. And her heart thudded hard against her chest, despite the drain her adrenaline had taken from the experience. She was going slow, stumbling into trees and bushes, tripping over roots.
There was a sting against her cheek, and she stumbled into the nearest tree as her hand went up to touch it. The tips of her fingers came back a bit bloody. Not much, but there was enough pain to bring a tear to her eye. She pushed herself away and didn't linger, keeping her momentum going. It was all that was carrying her forward.
She continued through the dense trees, losing the path in favor of trying to find the beach in one solid direction. They were on an island, after all. The beach would turn up.
But it didn't.
She ended up catching her sleeve on a sharp shrub, stuck in the brush until she heard the ripping tear of fabric. Soon after, her hair was pulled back as a twig caught hold, and she had to reach behind her to snap it, leaving the twig tangled in her knotted hair.
And when she saw the sun start to dip further towards the horizon, casting the beginnings of an orange glow across the sky she was forced to admit that she'd gotten herself undeniably and irrevocably lost.
Zelda watched the beams of light through the trees as she stepped deeper through the vegetation. Some of the shrubs were knee-high, and her skirts were catching on every single thing she passed. More than anything, she regretted losing the path. Her clothes weren't conducive to this environment, and she was very quickly figuring this out the hard way.
On top of it all, she tried so, so hard not to remember that there were likely snakes in the area. A mental image of one slithering over her foot had her spine tingling and her eyes flickering down too often to keep herself oriented, and she stumbled again.
If she died in an overgrown forest on some uncivilized pirate-infested island? If her final memories were inadvertently witnessing a pirate who'd kidnapped her entangled in a tryst with a man and a woman, running away from that same loose woman in a fool's attempt at escape, and then getting herself lost in the dense jungles in the back end of a beach town… oh, she'd be mortified to meet the Goddess in such a way.
No, she was not lost. She was not going to die out here. She was not going to—
"Ah!" she yelped as her shoe caught on the large root that was covered by the immensely dense overgrowth. And landed on her face.
"Ouch," she muttered, curling up on the forest floor to take stock of herself.
Her ankle was now throbbing, her clothing tattered and torn, hair a mess of tangles and twigs, face and arms scrapped and bleeding trickles of blood. She was a mess.
Was it going to rain? Would lightening strike the tree she was under? She was unsure how else things could get much worse than they already were.
But she remembered how the Goddess hated her, or at the very least, thought torturing her was amusing. Because the next thing that she heard was the distant rustle of leaves.
Zelda sank further into the growth and pressed her back against a tree, putting light pressure on her foot as a test and wincing. It was a pain she could walk through. Nothing broken, but perhaps a bruise and some temporary swelling. She could manage that.
Her hand reached for Revali's knife, and she waited, knowing that if she attempted to run, she would make far more noise through the brush than she did simply by staying put. It was a dense forest, after all.
The rustling grew louder, closer. Zelda held her breath and clutched the knife, pressing hard into the tree now, desperate to close her eyes but knowing that could cause her death if this was worse than a giant snake moving the foliage.
So, when she saw a nose appear off to her left, she held her breath and prayed desperately to the Goddess for protection. Even if it was for the last time.
Zelda held no assumptions that the Goddess had any particular love or favor towards her. In fact, she was more and more convinced that the Goddess downright hated her and was intent on throwing that fact into Zelda's incredibly mortal face several times. And Zelda wondered if this was her own fault: she cursed the Goddess on several occasions and flagrantly disobeyed Her teachings. She indulged in a dangerous amount of curiosity and consorted with pirates, she found herself thinking unseemly things about a handsome pirate who happened to be a murderer and everything the Goddess stood against. She'd complained about her arranged marriage, spurned her father for his decisions about her life, and now, she'd run off on an island with no escape and a half-baked plan while there were people all around her who wanted to harm her. Perhaps it was true then: for all her hostility and stupidity, the Goddess wanted her to suffer.
By the Goddess above, she prayed harder than she had in years that the person coming up beside her was Link, Revali, Mipha, Paya, Sidon, Urbosa, even Ashai or Shad, that man Link had been with. Anyone that she at least knew by name or could appeal to.
But the face that appeared was a total stranger. His dark hair fell in front of his eyes, obscuring them from Zelda's view. But she could see the clear set of a scowl on his mouth, and a scar that ran from jaw to jaw. He had a long sword in his hand as he searched the distant shrubbery of the forest, using it to push branches out of his way.
Zelda smacked her hand over her mouth and held her breath, suppressing a whimper of fear. He hadn't looked at her, not yet. And she knew that the moment she moved, he would hear her against the brush.
So all she could do was wait to see what he did. If the Goddess had any love for her at all, the man wouldn't turn in her direction until he passed.
It was confirmed: the Goddess, had no love for Zelda.
The man's head whipped towards her and let out a triumphant noise as he jumped over a large fallen tree to get to her.
She resisted the urge to scream, just in case there were more of them nearby, and picked up her skirts so she could run.
It was much the same as before as she took off through the trees, all thoughts of her plan to appeal to a different pirate crew vanished from her mind. She wanted to do it on her terms; she wanted to be on a beach in view of several people, and offering herself as a willing participant in their scheme, someone who would be allowed some measure of freedom for her compliance.
This was not how she pictured her encounter.
Her face was assaulted with low hanging twigs and branches that left long scratches that stung her face all over again. Her throbbing foot was entirely forgotten as she shifted her eyes between her path ahead and the overgrowth beneath her, trying not to trip again.
It wasn't until she felt something catch on her arm, sending her flailing onto her back, that she finally let out a shriek.
The man was over her, his eyes narrowing, his fingers tight. "I know your face. You're The Epona's prize."
No, this was not a man the crew to bring her back to Link and Urbosa. This was what Revali had warned about: this was another pirate, for sure.
Zelda went to scream again—because what did she have to lose— but the man clamped his hand over her mouth and hoisted her to her feet, holding her tightly against him as he dragged her back.
Everything in her brain immediately shut down, and her body took complete control of her actions, an overdrive instinct kicked in entirely driven by fear. Despite knowing how unlikely it was that she'd ever succeed against this man, she planted her foot against the nearest tree to throw them both off balance, and he let go to catch his fall.
She crawled away before he grabbed her once again.
They need me alive.
"My name is Zelda Nohansen! My father is Governor Rhoam Nohansen of Windfall Island, and he'd be more than willing to pay for—"
She let out a squeal when his hand went back over her mouth, but this time he pushed her against the tree, his other hand flying to her neck and squeezing in a very non-subtle threat that grew in pressure with his annoyance.
"I know who you are. I saw you at the gallows that day beside your fucking father. He'll pay, alright: one dead daughter for my brother. That satisfaction will value far higher than all the rupees you're worth."
Her eyes widened as she finally understood what Link and Urbosa had been stressing to her. They were ensuring her safety, and now she knew what exactly that meant.
Then again, if it weren't for them, she'd never be in this situation in the first place.
His fingers tightened, pushing her thoughts away, his grip no longer a threat but a promise.
She tried to pull him off as she slowly lost all breathing capabilities, but he held the leverage that she needed, and there was very little she could do but repeatedly kick him. That's when her panic really set in.
Black was tinging the edge of her vision, and she knew then that he intended to deprive her of air, but fighting his hand only made the pressure worse.
She couldn't reach his face to claw at him with her nails, nor did digging them into his hands seem to cause him to so much as flinch.
She could feel the cold sweat that dripped down her face, exertion, pain. All of it came out of her. She let out a strangled sound, cursing the wasted breath.
Struggling to remove his hand wasn't going to save her.
She let one of her arms fall away as she reached for anything she might use as a weapon, but she felt the immediate consequences of his tightening grip. Zelda gasped out any remaining air she'd stored in her lungs, fighting to hang on with just the few seconds she knew she had left.
And then she felt it. Cool metal.
Her fingers worked blindly, her body begging her to collapse for want of air. She was in pain, lightheaded… dying, as it were.
She heard the click she'd been desperate for. And her hand shook violently, but she managed.
A loud, horrifying blast echoed through the trees, scaring the birds, sending the dirt up around them in a cascade.
He screamed and let her go, hopping around as he hollered out several profanities in a long string.
And Zelda dropped to the ground, gasping desperately for air, her eyes wide, her hand protectively covering her throat. She couldn't catch her breath, caught between relentless gasping, and harsh coughs that wrought through her entire body.
Her ears were ringing with the echo of the gunshot, and all she could do was pray that his pain meant that she'd hit some part of it when she'd fired his gun.
But she saw the man's eyes turn to her, doubled down in determination.
Not injured enough, it seemed.
Her hands fumbled against the ground as she tried to crawl away, shaking and heavy with every move. And then, she felt something.
Something that glistened when she looked down.
She saw Revali's knife. She hadn't even realized she'd dropped it, but she quickly took hold of it before she felt the man tugging her up to her feet by her hair.
Goddess, she thought when she realized he was too close. This is going to hurt.
Bracing herself, Zelda closed her eyes and slammed her head backwards into the man's nose.
He cried out as he clutched his bleeding nose, staggering backwards while Zelda coughed and cried. Everything hurt now.
She was dizzy, and everything was still tinged black, spinning. She blinked several times, but it did very little in terms of clearing her vision. She stumbled, grabbed her forehead, and coughed. But she clutched her knife tightly and focused all of her attention on the man before sense or stupidity overtook her
She ran at the man and let herself crash into him.
He let out another loud scream as they fell to the ground.
Zelda panted, letting out shaky breaths as tears started to spill forcefully from her eyes at what she'd done, but she pushed into him, focusing entirely on her arms…
Specifically, on what was in her hands.
She twisted the handle of Revali's knife, shuddering at the squelch of flesh as she pushed it deep into his stomach.
So when he shoved her off him, Zelda had no idea what else to do.
She was in the grass, and he rose up like a redead from its tomb, seemingly unaffected by his wounds as he drew out his sword.
"If I'm going to die, you're coming with me," he breathed. His face was pale, his skin clammy, and he used his sword like a cane pressing it into the grass for support as he staggered over to her.
Zelda pushed off the ground to try to crawl away, but her body refused. Her muscles shook and her arms gave out, sending her face first back into the ground.
She'd prayed that stabbing him would kill him. She'd hoped it would at least bring him to his knees. Even with the blood soaking through the fabric of his shirt just beside the impaled knife, he wasn't slowing. It felt that she did little more than anger him, and now she could see in his eyes that she was going to pay the final price.
She wanted to be brave, but a choked sob and her racing heart said otherwise.
If she could just get up and jostle the knife…
A clang of metal was harsh in her ears. She expected pain. She didn't know where, but she expected something after hearing that noise.
No pain.
Wait.
The sound of metal against flesh didn't clang.
Someone was standing over her, their weapon blocking the man's sword from damn near severing her in half. Zelda couldn't see them in the glare of the sunset, and the way her head was spinning. Zelda still gasped for breath, and her vision was still black around the edges of her eyes. But the sound of the voice was enough to spur her to coherence.
"Little Bird! Get up!"
Never did Zelda think she'd be relieved to hear that nickname.
Zelda's muscles protested every move, but with the luxury of the moment Urbosa had bought her, she managed to get to her knees, which was more than she'd imagined she could handle.
Urbosa became more apparent as Zelda watched. Red hair that was pulled back into a full ponytail that swayed as she gracefully drew the man back, away from Zelda. There were a few solid hits, and she could hear the man grunting as she relentlessly clashed her scimitar down into his blade until it was knocked away and she stood over him, her heeled boot keeping him down.
Zelda couldn't hear what Urbosa said to the man before slowly and purposefully sinking her sword deep into his flesh. He cried out in pain for a long while, Urbosa drawing it out for everything it was worth. And when she pulled her sword back, she wiped the metal against the dead man's coat and plucked the knife from his abdomen.
All Zelda could hear rushing through her ears was her racing heart. He was dead. He was finally dead.
He was dead.
Zelda's heart clenched as she realized what she'd nearly done: she'd nearly killed a man.
Not only had the Goddess allowed her to get so close to such a soul-scarring act, but she'd sent her pirate kidnapper in as Zelda's rescuer.
What Goddess would do that? To scorn all they did and stood for, but to paint them as the hero in a situation of their own making. They'd brought her here. Why had the Goddess allowed her to be taken? What did she force Zelda to remember the sickening sound and feeling of the knife slipping into flesh when she wasn't even going to be able to save herself?
Urbosa knelt beside Zelda, assessing the damage.
"Oh, Little Bird, your feathers are quite torn, aren't they?"
Zelda tried to speak, but nothing came out. Only the overwhelming sense of relief, and even a sickening feeling of safety. So, her eyes closed, her body went limp, and the last thing she felt were Urbosa's strong arms lifting her up from the ground.
Zelda dreamed of her childhood.
She was surrounded by the lushest green grass, acres of land to roam, horses groomed to pull their carriage anywhere she wanted.
What Zelda had truly wanted was for her father to contract someone to build her a swing on the edge of the nearest tree.
He'd refused. She should spend more time indoors, out of the sun. She should practice the piano or have tea with some of the adults who'd meet at noon at the middle of each week. She should learn how to run a large household.
Zelda had laid back in the lush grass, her eyes closed, her mind free.
It was before she knew so many of the Goddess' many restrictions on life, so she let her thoughts carry her far from her fenced in yard. There were no tall metal bars, seemingly there to prevent people from coming in, rather than to stop her from going out. She was in a forest, by a large lake, watching fairies cast a brilliant glow over the surface of the water. One landed on her nose, tickling her with its featherlight wings. And she smiled.
"Zelda!" the shrill voice of Impa rang out, snapping Zelda from her fantasies. "Get out of that grass, now! Do you know how difficult it is to remove a grass stain from this fabric? Well, you will now. I can see one. Let's go. You're not leaving the laundry until you get it out."
"But I wasn't doing anything! Why am I in trouble?"
"Don't you talk back to me, young lady, or your father will hear how rude you've been. The Goddess already knows. What were you doing? Sleeping?"
"I was with the fairies."
Impa stopped, her eyes narrowing. "You were indulging in a fantasy? The Goddess didn't die so you could dream of a creature that does not exist. She gave her life so you can further our world. And you'll do that by learning responsibility. You will get this stain out from your dress."
Zelda had managed only after scrubbing her hands raw. And the next morning, she'd feigned an illness to stay in bed before opening the window of her second floor room, and climbing down the trellis into that fenced-in yard.
There were no holes, no exits, no ways out except the one that she knew. So, she ran over to the driver and asked for a ride into town.
"Little Miss, are you permitted this trip?"
"Yes."
And not one to question those he worked for, he gave his co-worker a look, and then gave Zelda a ride into town.
For the most part, she passed by shoppers, polite men and women dressed in their best to pick up fruit for the bowls in their kitchens. Polite chatter off to the side of the road. Musings about daily tasks. It was all rather boring for a child.
So, she took to the backstreets, the alleys. She followed a noise, wondering if there was a means of escape there, some place where maybe the fairies would take her.
But she was only met by the sounds of laughter, children's laughter, and a repeated thud.
She rounded the corner to see several children her age kicking a ball back and forth. They froze in fear when they saw her approach.
She didn't know the game. Didn't know the people. But the first thing she said was, "May I join?"
For just a moment in time, an undetermined stretch of hours or minutes, Zelda laughed, crashing into people as she tried to kick the ball away from the others. She held her skirts hiked up to her knees, which bled from where she'd fallen.
And like that, her fantasy world was shattered by the shrill sound of her name.
"Zelda Nohansen! Come here, now!"
Impa's eyes flamed as she dragged Zelda by the arm until they were by the carriage. Impa climbed in, but closed the door before Zelda could. "If you are so determined to run, then you will walk the entire way home, or until you cannot walk any further. The Goddess did so, as shall you."
Zelda didn't make it the whole long journey home, and shamefully climbed into the carriage to sit beside Impa while she heaved, trying to catch her breath. She closed her eyes, thinking of what it would feel like to drop into a pile of leaves and fall asleep. But Impa's voice, her shrill name, her burning legs, her raw hands… she quickly corrected the image in her mind from leaves to her bed.
When Zelda opened her eyes again, she was in a bed. Not the one she'd remembered from her childhood, but one that was entirely unfamiliar to her. The blankets were pulled up to her chin, and there were two pillows beneath her head to keep her sitting upright.
She stirred, and realized that she was only in her shift, and her arm had a white cloth wrapped around it. Worse, her throat burned from the inside out.
Fire crackled in the distance, and there was a distinct aroma in the air, some sort of food, though Zelda couldn't tell what it was. It was unfamiliar; nothing that Impa would have ever cooked for her.
Before she could look around the room in any detail, her thoughts were interrupted by a shrill noise.
"Mommy!" a young girl's voice cried, startling Zelda so much that she nearly fell off the bed. The little girl was standing in the doorway watching Zelda with wide green eyes, greener even than Zelda's. "The girl is awake!"
She bounded from the room, red hair bouncing as she did. And then she returned not a moment later dragging another woman in by the hand.
Zelda noticed just how striking the woman was, with eyes that were nearly yellow, fine red hair that, even in a ponytail, was nearly down to her feet, and such sharp features that Zelda couldn't help but believe they'd been sculpted by the Goddess with a chisel.
"So she is, Riju," the woman said, pushing the little girl out into the other room. "Go play, Little Bird. I'll be back."
Little Bird?
Riju threw her head back and groaned, and Zelda couldn't help but feel her lips tip up a smidge. The girl had to be about ten, and she already reminded Zelda a bit of herself at that age.
But the woman moved into the room, her gait smooth, easy, and unhurried. Zelda had a sense that this woman was dangerous on a good day, but when she saw the distrust in her eyes, Zelda gulped hard. This woman was protective. Which made her twice as dangerous.
Her voice was slow and methodical. It was a unique grace Zelda hadn't seen from anyone in Hyrule before. "Hello Zelda. I'm Nabooru. Urbosa brought you here."
"Wh—" Zelda tried, but she hissed in pain at the raw feeling in her throat. A tear stung her eye, and she swallowed back a noise, gingerly toucheing her throbbing neck. Even that touch caused her to wince.
"Don't talk. Not yet. Urbosa went back to the beach, and she's sending Mipha up here to help. She filled me in on what happened." Nabooru sat in a chair in front of a desk that sat at the foot of the bed. She folded a cloth and pointed vaguely to Zelda's head. "I did my best, but I'm no healer. I washed out blood in your hair, but I didn't see any cuts. Did I miss something?"
Zelda shook her head, thought the action made her dizzy. And her throat hurt too much to speak. Instead, she pointed to her nose, and then to an invisible person.
"His nose? He had a bloody nose?"
A nod from Zelda was all she could manage.
"Oh. From what Urbosa said, he deserved what he got," Nabooru stood up with a smirk. "Rest. She'll return soon."
Zelda tapped the bed to get Nabooru's attention before she turned away to leave. When she'd looked to Zelda, Zelda pointed to her and shrugged.
"Who am I?" Nabooru asked. Then she laughed, more to herself than anything. "Well, I'm not a pirate, but I am married to one."
Zelda leaned back and nodded. There was nothing more Zelda could do, and Nabooru seemed forthright, if not particularly trustworthy. The woman left the room, leaving Zelda to her thoughts.
Resting her eyes as Nabooru headed back into the other room, Zelda let her mind wander, to try to put the pieces together. Could it have been Revali that this Nabooru was married to? He'd insisted that the brothel was not for him. Perhaps it was because he had a wife already? Or perhaps it was someone she hadn't yet met on the crew. Someone she wasn't familiar enough with. Maybe it wasn't someone from Urbosa's crew at all, but she had mentioned Urbosa and Mipha. It was a trusted crew?
When she'd given up on trying to reason everything out, she finally found herself calm enough to take in her surroundings.
The bedroom she was in surprised her more than she thought it would. It was akin to a middle class room, not at all like she'd assumed the homes on the island to be. She'd thought they were all cabins held together with twine, or tents like the many that had been set up on the beach. She'd been in the tavern—the brothel—but hadn't thought much on the architecture. There were other concerns on her mind. But looking back, she realized it was nicer than she'd have expected. Gaudy and cheap, but still made of a finer quality than she'd expected.
The room she was in had a roaring hearth against the wall, crackling with the sounds of a fairly fresh log. The smell from earlier hadn't been this, but now she felt the familiar scent run up her nose, calming her. Wood burned the same in Hyrule, and she could imagine it was her room if she closed her eyes. It reminded her of home in the most painfully bittersweet way.
Though, Zelda admitted to herself, the child's voice in the background decidedly did not remind her of home. She was rarely around children unless they'd been her own age.
The walls were a plain white, stained from smoke and years of use and dust, but white nonetheless. The wooden floor looked cold to the touch, but Zelda had no intention of getting out of this bed any time soon. Her body wouldn't allow it if she wanted.
Beside the bed, there was a long dresser, one of the drawers overstuffed and unable to close all the way, though she couldn't make out the content inside. On top of the bureau, however, was a stack of papers. The entire surface was littered with them. She recognized a map with several things crossed off, and she saw writing that was too messy to read. Beside that, though, was a drawing. Several stick-like people stood hand in hand, smiling beside some trees with a bright sun overhead.
Zelda couldn't make anything else out about the drawing, but she noticed some dolls on the windowsill, sitting up and dressed in a long coat, and a bandana, like what Link frequently wore. The other was in a dress, red hair and a stick tied to the doll's waist. And between them, two teacups.
When Zelda looked around more, she saw more dolls, all familiar in some way. Most of them had hair that was stained with some dye to make it red, and all of them bore some familiar marking, like the pirates on board The Epona.
Goddess, was this some form of magic? Something way of controlling others with a totem of their likeness? She'd heard of pirates using any advantages that Demise would provide them. Was this one? Was this why she was here?
The doorway to the room provided a very clear view of the main room of the house, but Zelda didn't see the front door open. She nearly jumped out of her skin when she saw the wood swing open from her peripheral vision.
Riju's voice rang clear: "She's in there!"
There were footsteps against the wooden floor, and then the door to her room creaked the rest of the way open.
"By the fucking Goddess, Miss Nohansen!"
Zelda's eyes lit up for the briefest moment as she looked at the two figures in the doorway. Mipha and Link stood there, wide-eyed as they took in her disheveled state. Both of them looked her over again and again, and it quickly had her burning, suddenly feeling very embarrassed for the state she was in. She had to look away.
She'd survived an attack by a pirate. And yet she felt embarrassed? No, that wouldn't do. She turned back to Link and Mipha and kept her gaze steadily on them both, daring them to say anything about her escape or the attack. They'd brought it on themselves if they thought she was going to simply gamble her life on the whims of pirates and whatever rules of politics they played by.
While Link was rooted in place, his eyes glued on her chin or thereabouts, Mipha pushed past him and made her way into the room. "By the Goddess is right! Your throat! It's worse than Urbosa said. You can see that bastard's fingers!"
Zelda gasped, trembling again like a leaf in a storm as Mipha grew closer. She felt herself reach out for something, anything. A knife, a weapon. But her hand came back empty.
"Where…" she rasped out, a tear stinging her eye at the pain the words caused in her throat, "…am I?"
Mipha held her hands up and took a step back from Zelda. "You're alright, Miss Zelda. You're in Urbosa's home. She brought you here after you passed out, and then she came to find us."
"Why?" she squeaked, the pain worth the answers she wanted.
"I'm only here to help, and Link is here to keep watch over the family while Urbosa is away. Will you let me help you? I have something to soothe your throat."
Zelda watched Mipha suspiciously. If there was one person on the crew she'd grown close to, it was Mipha. She'd helped treat Zelda before for her seasickness. She'd never seen her do any kind of cursed magic, nor had she done a thing to harm Zelda. And Goddess, did her throat hurt.
So, contrary to every voice in her head telling her not to let this filthy pirate like all the rest touch her, she found herself nodding.
Mipha sat on the bed beside Zelda and began digging through her bag. She pulled out a bottle filled to the brim with a ghastly red potion swishing around inside the glass.
Zelda grimaced, but Mipha just made a disapproving noise. "This will reduce any swelling fairly quickly, and bruising will go down. It'll numb your throat as well, so you shouldn't feel pain, though you'll likely feel a bit weak, physically. It's just your body relaxing, and you'll need to lie down for a while. But this will help, and you'll feel better very quickly, I promise. And I'll warn you, thanks to its potency, it tastes quite terrible."
Zelda made another face, but nodded as Mipha held out the bottle. She helped Zelda tip her head back so she could down the contents. Even that hurt. A disgusted noise escaped from Zelda's throat and she gagged on the honey-thick liquid, but in the end, she managed, gulping down every drop.
She covered her mouth as she fought against the churning in her stomach at the taste, and Mipha made a soft sound before rubbing a soothing circle on Zelda's back. "Poor thing."
A scowl settled on Zelda's lips at the patronizing phrase.
"No, Riju, let them work! Play with something else!" Nabooru's voice called out just before the young girl ran into the room.
Riju's eyes were wide as they settled on Zelda's throat. "Who did that?"
Zelda turned to Mipha for assistance.
"Riju," Mipha said kindly. And from the immediate adoration and attention Riju gave her, it was clear that this was somewhere Mipha frequented. "She was hurt by someone bad on the island, and your mom has gone to keep you safe from their crew. Miss Zelda can't talk right now because her throat hurts."
"Mom?" Zelda croaked out, glancing at Nabooru in the doorway.
Mipha turned back to Zelda, her lips twitching up. "Riju is Urbosa and Nabooru's daughter. She brought you to her home until matters are settled on the beach."
Zelda watched Riju in the room, carefully picking each doll from where it sat, gathering them all in a giant pile in her arms.
And the child looked at her. "Are you a princess? Because I have a princess doll that looks just like you. Mommy says you're from Hyrule… so you're the Princess of Hyrule?"
Zelda shook her head slowly, watching Riju with a strange pain in her chest. "No," she whispered.
Undeterred, Riju simply shrugged. "I'll make you a princess anyway! A runaway princess who wants to get the help from her new friends to save Hyrule!"
Nabooru moved to help lighten the load of every doll stacked in the girl's arms before ushering Riju out of the room, though not without a cautious glance in Zelda's direction first.
"I don't…understand," Zelda breathed when Nabooru had gone.
Mipha shrugged easily. "There's a lot you don't understand about us, Miss. It's up to you to decide if you want to or not."
Zelda looked back at the windowsill where the dolls once sat. Not magic dolls to curse their victims. Nothing nearly as sinister as the stories she'd heard back home.
They were… toys. And that seemed to shock Zelda more than if she'd learned they were magic totems.
Zelda reached up to cradle her throat again, raw from the few words she'd said.
Mipha dug through her bag again, pulling out a liquid and a cloth. She held it up for Zelda to see. "I don't know if you've felt this before, but it will sting. Are you ready?"
Zelda wanted to ask what she should be ready for, but she looked at the cloth that Mipha was pouring the liquid on and bit her lip. Slamming her eyes shut, Zelda nodded. At this point, whatever was going to happen was out of her control.
Mipha pressed the cold, wet rag against her cheek, and Zelda let out a breathy squeal of stinging pain. Her eyes were pinched as hard as they could go, and she felt tears well in them. Mipha held Zelda's head still, pressing the rag into her face more. Instinctually, Zelda tried to pull away, though Mipha held her still. She was relieved when the burn subsided a bit in favor of the sting that Mipha had warned of.
Able to calm her breathing, Zelda felt the potion start to take hold as her body begged her to relax. Her eyes weren't tired, but her body was. Mipha helped her down and settled her on the propped-up pillows.
And began again. This time on she scratches on her arms.
As she worked, Mipha tried talking to Zelda. Nothing deep, just reassuring her that she was nearly done, that this was cleaning the wounds more efficiently than water would, and that while out here on the island, medical care was a necessity when dealing with open wounds. Especially from the woods. And then Mipha looked glanced at Link where he still stood in the doorway, watching.
It reminded Zelda that he was even there, he'd been so quiet.
She narrowed her eyes at him, and he cleared his throat, pushing off the doorframe and moving into the room.
"You did well, you know? Fighting him off."
Her eyebrow raised at his nerve, and she scoffed. Was he making fun of her? She not only felt embarrassed at her failed escape, she felt stupid for thinking it would work in the first place. And now, he was going to rub it in with his sarcastic jab?
He watched her carefully, his own eyebrow mimicking hers. "No, really. I'm being serious. I saw the man," Link said, lowering his voice as though it were a great secret. "Your knife got him good. And did you shoot him in the foot? I'll tell you this: he'd have bled out very quickly the second he pulled your knife from himself. It was… you did good to stay alive."
Zelda flinched and pulled away from Mipha as the cloth dragged over a particularly painful part on her arm.
Mipha lowered her hand and nodded to herself, content with her work on Zelda's scratched arm. "Are you doing alright, Miss Zelda?"
It had stung, but all things considered—the fact that Zelda hadn't been struck down by the Goddess yet, and surviving an attack just hours into being on this island—yeah, she was doing alright, so she nodded, unable to find her voice.
Mipha smiled reassuringly. "Good. Let's get this over with. I just got to clean up your cheek too, cover them both so no dirt gets in, and then we'll let you rest, okay?"
Reaching back into her bag, Mipha came back with an empty bottle. "Damn. I'm out. I need to run back to the apothecary to grab some more of this for your wound. What time is it?" She glanced first at the window, and then at Link.
He shrugged. "Three, give or take."
"Oh, no!" Mipha hurriedly throwing her things into her bag. "They close early today! I don't want to go another day without cleaning this. She was in the woods."
"I'll go for you," Link said, holding out his hand for her things.
"No, Bertie and Luv owe me a favor. If I get there after they're closed, they'll definitely let me in. I'll be back soon. In the meantime…" she glanced at Zelda's wrist, "can you finish wrapping this for her?" She turned to Zelda. "Would you mind? I can always do it whenever I come back, but I'd rather it got done sooner than later."
Zelda's eyes flicked to Link before immediately looking away. Was this another test by the silent Goddess; the one who offered her nothing in her time of need? Was she meant to accept help from the pirates? Or did the Goddess want her to scorn those who didn't follow her path, and to have Zelda refuse.
Perhaps Zelda wouldn't be walking on a path to no forgiveness if the Goddess would just be a little clearer with what she wanted of her followers.
Mipha was a pirate, but she was also a healer. At least she could trust in that, if not the Goddess' clarity.
Besides, after all the pleas gone unanswered, Zelda had no reverence for the Goddess today.
Zelda looked at Link. He was looking at the floorboards, unable to meet Zelda's eyes until the silence stretched for so long that he had to look up to see if she was alright.
She crossed her arms and turned her head toward the wall, shrugging her shoulder in reluctant acceptance.
Mipha pat a pile of bandages. "You know what to do with these, Link. I'll be back. And I'll let Nabooru know what's going on."
"Thank you," Link said as Mipha hurried out of the room.
"I'm surprised you said yes," Link admitted, slowly crossing the room towards Zelda. "I can get Nabooru, if you'd feel more comfortable."
"More comfortable?" Zelda croaked out, already feeling her throat was less tight. She couldn't manage above a whisper, but it wasn't as painful as it had been before. Her voice was barely loud enough for Link to hear, even with him standing beside her. But to her surprise, it only scratched at her throat. Talking didn't hurt. Her throat was just tight. The potion had been potent after all.
"Well… after…" he shrugged, letting her fill in the rest.
Zelda swallowed thickly and felt her cheeks burn. She looked away. As much as she wanted him out of her space so she could run through her thoughts in peace, at least she knew who Link was. Nabooru could have been anyone, and with the suspicious looks she was giving her? Zelda wasn't ready to take that chance that Nabooru wouldn't just kill Zelda for of some unknown precaution. "Let's get this over with, Mr. Woods."
Link chuckled tightly and grabbed a handful of the bandages, absently untangling them. "For what it's worth, I'm sorry. Well… I'm sorry you were in that position. Goddess, no, that's poor phrasing. I'm sorry you were exposed to…" He shook his head and set the bandages down. "This doesn't happen often."
Her eyes flickered to his before looking away again. He was laughing awkwardly to himself.
"I don't usually get tongue tied or embarrassed. I mean, I'm not embarrassed about what happened. Plenty of people walk in on us there, so that's nothing new."
Zelda had been determined not to look at him, not to let him see her face catch fire as she remembered, but at that comment, her head shot over to his.
"I just mean… it's not usually the noble, kidnapped daughter of a governor. And, you know, given you're a devout Goddess follower… I'm sure that was… shocking." He rolled his eyes and picked up the bandages again. "Goddess above, I don't know what's wrong with me," he muttered. "That's all to say I'm sorry on your behalf."
She spared him a glance and her brows raised when she saw just how flustered he looked. His neck was pink, and his hands fumbled over the tangled bandages, making the mess worse. In any other situation, any other at all, she might have thought it was endearing. Then again, given the subject matter, she found 'endearing' to be a difficult word to use.
And Zelda felt lightheaded, looking away from Link once again. Shame burned through her for thinking of that event again. Embarrassment at what she'd walked in on. Humiliation for her own stupidity for thinking she could run to another crew to get off the island.
She cleared her throat as realization dawned on her: his embarrassment wasn't endearing. It was painfully obvious when realized she felt her own just as keenly. There was nothing endearing about the anxiety coursing through her, or the humiliation she'd felt. And for the smallest moment, she felt herself understanding.
He scoffed, more to himself than anything as he began to prattle, words spilling from his lips seemingly without any control over them. "I don't care much for it my own privacy, you know? I know Shad and Ashai don't either. People are in and out all the time. It's not the most reputable place there, and honestly, there's a much better place across town. It's, uh, well it's a lot nicer. But I have a longstanding deal with Ashai, so I accept its flaws. Like a lack of privacy." He grimaced and his voice dropped to a self-chastising whisper, "None of which is anything you needed to know about." He pushed his long hair from his face and sighed. "I'm just… working on my apologies. Never been good at them. Still not, clearly."
Zelda felt the smallest of smiles threaten to tug on her lips, so she used her unscathed hand to cover her mouth as she pretended to lean forward onto it to rest.
Her silence didn't stop Link. "Despite it all, Revali did right by you to get you off that beach, anyway. You wouldn't have been any safer with all the attention there."
Zelda huffed into her hand. The beach that they'd put her on in the first place.
Link finally stopped fiddling with the bandages and held his hand out. Zelda hesitated, but shifted slightly to offer her arm that needed bandaging. He took it, and Zelda bit her lip to keep her face impassive as chills shot down her arm from the unfamiliar contact of his calloused fingers.
For a long moment, she simply stared at his hand in utter confusion, as if the touch of his hand alone could spread the plague of corrupt piracy and lawlessness. And while, sure, his hand was dirty in a less metaphorical way, she marveled at how strange it felt. She'd only felt it before when he'd helped her off the boat.
His hands were calloused and hard, with very little give in the skin. It was like his hands themselves were made of leathery muscle, used and worn from days of hard labor at sea. It was such a different feeling than she was used to: the gloved assistance from carriage drivers or soldiers offering her a courtesy. That was all she'd ever felt. That was all the Goddess permitted, even regarding many platonic relationships.
And, she noted with unrelated interest, he favored his left hand, not his right.
She shifted uncomfortably as her eyes stayed locked on his, and Link removed his hands quickly when he noticed her reaction, and she was able to pull away.
"I'm sorry," he said again, his eyes on the mattress. "Hyrule does a number on her people, huh?"
Zelda's mouth dropped open, nearly asking him how he knew what she was thinking. But she forced it closed and cleared her throat before offering her arm back to him. She was determined for him to be wrong: that she wasn't damaged from Hyrule, and that he had no right to think she was.
Link waited, glancing up at her before she nodded for him to continue.
He set back to work, more conscious of where his hands were. Zelda wasn't sure why he was even bothering to accommodate her, but she wasn't going to question getting what she wanted.
When Zelda first met Link, he was the king on non-answers. But in this anxious state he seemed to be in, he seemed petrified of the silence.
"I was concerned when we returned to find you missing, though not altogether unsurprised though. Where did you think you were going? We're on an island."
Zelda hesitated in her willingness to admit her poor plan to him, or to any of them. Goddess, it was brash, poorly thought out, and lacked calculation. If she were to go back to that moment, she'd at least paid attention to the initial location of the sun in relation to the beach so she'd have a direction to follow.
Perhaps with a better plan in the middle, as well. She wasn't keen on running into any other disillusioned pirates who longed for her death, more than claiming a monetary reward.
Link touched her arm again, though this time his rough hands set to work wrapping the cloth around her.
He glanced up at her before focusing on his work. "I don't blame you. I know how it feels to want to get out of a situation you've been forced into like this…to find any escape. So I don't blame you for trying."
Zelda cocked her eyebrow again, curious this time. But he wasn't looking at her to see it, so he continued, "It might have worked been better if we were on the mainland, though. Can't get very far with the sea surrounding you."
Link paused his work and shook his head. "The whole beach knew of you at that point, and with that fancy dress you had, you were an easy spot. Makes me wonder why he didn't just grab you and go."
Worrying her lip for a moment, Zelda swallowed and braced herself for potential pain. "My father."
That got Link's attention.
"Is that so?" Link stopped for a moment to look up at her again. His eyes rested on her bruised throat.
Zelda nodded once, their eyes meeting. And no matter how strong she wanted to be in front of Link and the others, she knew he could see the fear behind her eyes just then, the tears longing to come to the surface just to provide some relief. It was as if he could see her reliving it, and then her hand moved to her throat, betraying any doubts he may have had about what he could see.
"Makes sense, I suppose. Though personally, I'd take the money, as you well know."
Her brows furrowed, a mix of confusion and disgust crossing her face in an instant.
He saw it in her eyes, and he looked toward the window, distant in his own mind. "Revenge is so simple, Miss Nohansen. The allure of instant relief… it's potent. Your father kills our kind. He hunts us, and he displays us like the bust of game mounted on a wall, but worse: in cages until our flesh has fallen off the bone for all to see. It's easy to see why he wanted your father to hurt through your death."
"You want me to sympathize?" she balked, paying for it in the harsh rasp rubbing against her throat from her disgusted tone.
"No, you don't have to sympathize. You just need to understand that we play by a whole new set of rules here, rules you're not familiar with yet. Revenge, freedom, relief… they're fair game to take and to chase until our last breath."
He let go of the bandage, finished, and sat back, pushing another stray hair from his face as he looked at Zelda intently. "I understand him. My sister… I'd do anything to kill the ones who took her. Vengeance is a powerful motivator, Miss Nohansen. You have no idea until you've felt it yourself."
"You have a sister?" she whispered, the sound easy and calm on her throat.
"I don't know if I do anymore. It's been years."
"What happened?"
"That's part of a long, involved story about my road to piracy." His lip twitched, but he shook his head. "It's not a story I share lightly. Maybe another day. Maybe not."
Zelda let out a long, disappointed sigh and returned her attention elsewhere.
Link chuckled. "You really wanted to know, didn't you?"
She shrugged and looked away, resting her arms over the blanket against her pulled-up legs.
"Curiosity is one of the Goddess' vices, Miss Nohansen," he teased. "Unwavering faith and unquestioning compliance are her virtues." He grinned, but it wasn't entirely directed at her, almost like he was remembering something himself and found it amusing.
Her eyes quickly darted from the exposed tattoo on his neck to the chain that hid the Goddess' symbol just below the fabric of his shirt. A permanent defilement of skin, like the tattoos and piercings he and the others wore, was the most obvious symbol of someone's disregard toward Hyrule and its beliefs. But he wore her symbol, knew what was expected of her people, and knew the rules enforced by her followers.
She was willing to admit her intrigue, as well as her disgust for it all. There was a fine line, and she was walking it.
Link sat back on his knees, seemingly with no intent to move, despite the completion of his task. But as Zelda had noted, silence was not his friend today. "So, crossing the sea to Windfall. Ever been?"
Suspicious of his sudden topic change, Zelda shook her head slowly. Was this him teasing her still because he was willing to indulge in his curiosity without fear? Was there any other reason for him to ask?
"Me either. Do you know anyone other than your father there? I hear it's a pretty popular place these days for mainlanders looking to move."
"My friend Mila."
Her voice surprised herself. Why did she just answer him?
He didn't seem fazed by her willingness to speak. "Are you excited for it all? Meeting that… Lieutenant… uh… Rivers?"
"Lieutenant Rivan."
"Is that what you're going to call him, like how you call me Mr. Woods?"
"That's your name."
"Yes, Miss Nohansen, I did in fact notice that. But you are the only one who calls me anything remotely formal. You can call me Link. I'll keep telling you that until you do."
"I'll shout it from the longboat when I'm finally delivered home, Mr. Woods. Whenever that may be." She kept her voice soft so she could speak, but the smirk on Link's face said he didn't struggle to hear her rather unsubtle jab.
Zelda let out a disgusted sigh as she thought about seeing her father for the first time in six years, and their first topic of conversation would have to be the price that had been on her head.
She leaned her head against the wall and stared at Link. Of all the people in the entire world, they'd gone after her and her money. There were richer families. There were better targets. "Why me?" she finally asked.
Link looked like he debated telling her something, and his eyes fell almost subconsciously onto the papers on the bureau, the map. "We were gathering information about several important avenues all at once, and yours was the most immediate. It was poor luck on your part."
"You'd uproot my life for money?"
"We're returning you immediately, Miss Nohansen. As soon as we can, we want to move on and have you home. I have other things… we all have other things we need to be doing. And the crew needs the money soon as well; some of them will use it to buy medicine, while others will send some of it home to their families. And others will spend it on drink and immediate company. We can't all be the child of a rich governor with a constant flow of rupees at our beck and call. Not all of us grew up loved and doted on that way."
Zelda narrowed her eyes, all caution over speaking lost in her annoyance from his comments. "I hardly grew up loved and doted on, Mr. Woods. Clearly, you've never had a governess in Hyrule."
This time, he found himself chuckling darkly. "No, I can't say I have. Not all of us are tolerable to most polite company. I've never even met a governess."
He turned to look at the fire, his eyes already distant, lost in some unknown thought. But when he looked back at her, he smiled, charming and polite as he pushed himself to his feet.
"Miss Nohansen. I'll let you rest."
He headed towards the door, stopped only by the surprising sound of Zelda's voice.
"Mr. Woods!" She winced in pain, clutched her throat, cursing her louder volume. But he went back to her side so she could whisper, and he stood beside her, waiting.
She took a breath. "I find you tolerable. For the most part."
"Do you?" he quipped.
"For a rotten pirate, that is."
"Oh, of course." His eyes were glinting with mischief.
Zelda's mouth dropped in frustration as she watched his usual self begin to reappear. Annoyingly confident, entitled in his own way, and charismatic without even trying. It was all in his smile and his eyes, and she wondered if he had any idea what he was doing.
"Don't flatter yourself too much, Mr. Woods. I happen to find you all intriguing."
"I wouldn't dream of flattering myself, Miss Nohansen, especially not when you're doing it for me."
This time, her mouth didn't just open, it hung. Her mouth formed the word "I" several times as she shook her head. Her eyes narrowed, and she made an indignant noise.
Link chuckled and rested his hand on the bedframe. "I'm going to leave before I say something that'll bite me in the ass, which, coincidently, you've already seen." He smirked in her direction, his comment just another attempt to get a rise out of her.
But to the surprise of both of them, Zelda chuckled and shook her head slowly.
"Oh, I saw far more than that, Mr. Woods."
Link's eyes shot up, wide and completely shocked by her. He couldn't even hide it.
Goddess above, perhaps her ordeal since arriving on the island had simply broken her. She no longer worked properly.
Unable to stop himself, Link burst out laughing as the most genuine, compelling smile spread across his face, one that Zelda had yet to see. And it had her cheeks flaming in embarrassment.
"Goddess, Miss Nohansen, I find you far more interesting with every conversation we've had." He rested his arms against the bed. "I won't hesitate to admit that I thoroughly enjoying talking with you. I suppose I find you quite tolerable as well."
Zelda regarded him with piqued curiosity. He was an enigma to her: everything she was conditioned to abhor, and yet nothing that matched the stories she'd been told. Charming, and vulgar. Religious and faithless.
And then the door to the house swung open.
Urbosa moved inside, closing the door behind her before resting in the doorway to the room. She glanced immediately at Zelda, and then at Link, where her gaze was steady and unflinching. "She okay?"
Zelda let out a breath and turned to her unexpected conversation partner. Link's arm was outstretched toward the door, pistol ready. He let out a breath and lowered his gun, decocking it before sliding it back into his belt holster as relief settled over his features. He'd moved so fast, she hadn't even seen him take it out. "Yes, she's alright. Mipha went to resupply before finishing up here."
Urbosa nodded once in acknowledgement and then disappeared into the home. Zelda heard the child squeal in joy again, this time from the other room. "Momma!" And then came Urbosa's muffled response.
Zelda let out her breath and ran her hand along her face, her heart racing. Her breathing came out fast and shallow after that, memories of the sudden surprises she'd gotten recently flooding through her. The door to the closet where she and Paya hid flinging open. The feeling of Revali pulling her from nowhere, demanding that she run. Opening the door to Link's room. The pirate's hands on her throat.
She looked away from the door, meeting her own reflection in the dirty window just past her shoulder. Staring back at her was someone she didn't recognize. Hair down and wildly tangled. In a shift in a stranger's bed. Cuts and scrapes and marks on her throat. Questions on her lips. Hollow eyes, wide with a fear that she couldn't keep off her face.
This wasn't the same Zelda Nohansen she'd seen in the mirror when she left her home in Hyrule.
And it frightened her.
She felt the tear that had been threatening her eyes roll down her cheek, and she hastily looked away from Link. Embarrassment was the least of her concerns. This was all because of him. Because of all of them.
He watched her for a moment before tapping the bedframe anxiously once again. "You should try to rest before Mipha returns," he muttered, before hastily leaving the room just in time to miss the sob burst through her lips.
Reviews: Guest 1 (omg just 1?): I LOVE Revali! He's the hardest to write, but he's the most satisfying, I think! And right now, I can absolutely understand how it's sad to see Zelda's worth be entirely dependent on the crew, but we are only in the beginning while she's still stumbling for her footing! AND AGREE about At World's End! Your reviews bring me joy! They are not mediocre! I appreciate you taking the time to review at all! Nekotoko: Hahahahah thank you! I think Zelda bit off more than she could chew hahahah! Lunia Wolfe: Me too! I feel for her so much because she just wants to question everything, including her faith, which I personally think is really healthy so you know you're in it because you want to be and you understand it so it brings you closer too, not because society has said do, but she's just in such a tough place with it. Jojoker: Hahahahah if you're reading this after this chapter, which I'm just going to assume you are, then you're 100% correct hahaha! Zeedry: I HAVE BLACK FLAG ON IN THE BACKGROUND! THOSE SHANTIES ARE FIRE!