I know, I have promised that a little more of what many are hoping for will happen in this chapter.
Unfortunately, Link and Zelda messed things up for me.
Actually, chapter eight was supposed o contain a lot more plot, but now it had to be moved to chapter nine.
The two of them suddenly had so much to say to each other.
I was surprised myself :)
I hope you don't hold it against me. This chapter should still bring a little satisfaction, though.
I really didn't plan to flood this story with so much angst. :)
But do not worry, this will definitely end happy.
Definitely!
So, have fun and let me thank you. You are my engine. Thank you so much for following along, for your feedback, for enjoying this. I love you all. Really! You are amazing!
Voices.
There were voices.
With great difficulty, Zelda opened her eyes. Her eyelids felt heavy and crusty.
Did she fall asleep?
No. That was impossible, she had just sat down. Besides, she surely couldn't have fallen asleep sitting up ...
The voices came closer.
Had she heard her name? Zelda turned her head to the right, but the steep mountain wall blocked her view.
Yes, that was her name. Someone was calling her name. Someone was looking for her, and was very close.
Carefully, she rose from the ground. It was tough, but finally she stood.
She took a cautious step, then another, moving in the direction of the voices, her throat too parched to draw attention to herself vocally.
They saw Zelda first.
"Princess!"
Purah! Purah and two men, probably from Hateno Village. They were coming to meet her.
Relief fought its way through the fog that had formed in Zelda's mind.
If Purah was here, Link couldn't be faring any worse. Perhaps they even had a fairy to heal him? Sometimes fairies could be found in the high grass, though it was rare.
But then he would have come along, wouldn't he? He wouldn't have stayed behind if he was completely healed.
"Princess!" Purah raised her hand and waved, a gesture Zelda couldn't return without grimacing, however slowly she moved.
"How is Link?" was the first thing Zelda asked as they met in the shadow of the mountain.
Purah stood at the very front, as if she had led the men, which was most likely the case. She regarded Zelda intently, one hand on her hip. How tall Purah had grown. Her youthful face showed the first signs of the woman Zelda had known in the past.
Behind her round glasses, Purah rolled her eyes at Zelda's question.
"He's annoying," she said in a long suffering drawl, completely exaggerated and utterly unexpected.
Zelda blinked. Her brow furrowed.
"How is he?" she repeated, her voice emphatic, inwardly full of impatience.
"Oh," Purah began, shrugging her shoulders. "He's in the Shrine of Resurrection." She briefly examined the fingernails of her left hand.
"WHAT?" At that moment, Zelda couldn't even think. She took an uncontrolled, rushed step toward Purah, not even feeling pain as she grabbed the tiny shoulders of the unnaturally young body. Panic, bewilderment raced through her.
This could not be true. No. No. Nonono!
"Oh, my goddess." Purah fought off Zelda's grip and gave her an annoyed look.
"He's is Hateno Village. Goddesses, no one can handle a little fun anymore." She shook her head, the superior expression of righteous annoyance strangely out of place on such a young face.
Purah's words were slow to penetrate the storm of fear that had begun to rage within Zelda.
She was breathing hard, trying to calm herself down. Trying to process the shock and then, as it slowly sank in that Purah had been kidding - kidding! - she tried to keep the fast growing anger in check.
There was probably nothing in this world that could shake Zelda more than the idea of Link having to be brought back to the Shrine of Resurrection.
Her ability to think logically caught up with the horror, and she understood that it would be impossible to get Link to the plateau so quickly.
Still, she was slow to calm down.
While she managed to not drop to her knees and turn into a blubbering mess, Purah waved the Shiekah Slate impatiently. Zelda hadn't even noticed that Purah was carrying it.
"Come on, Princess. I didn't recalibrate this thing for nothing. Let's get out of here."
She turned to the men. "Don't forget the luggage. Princess," she turned toward Zelda, "where's your luggage?"
"Link had everything with him," Zelda replied weakly.
"Hm. So-so."
"Purah! How. Is. Link!"
"No need to snap at me," Purah said in a whiny voice. Then she sighed and took a deep breath.
"He made a huge drama. Bleeding and yelling, barging into the lab and demanded that I send a team out to find you. I didn't even recognize him at first." Purah frowned as if she saw the scene in her mind's eye. "He bled all over my notes and shouted at me the whole time." She crossed her arms in front of her chest and cocked a hip.
"I wanted to hit him over the head with the chair. But then he fell over and-"
"He fell?!" asked Zelda in a choked voice, but Purah waved it off.
"Symin sat him down on a chair and gave him something. But my notes are ruined and I-"
"Purah," Zelda interrupted her impatiently. "How is he?!"
Purah gave her a hurt look, but then seemed to make a decision, for she loosened her arms and took a deep breath. Generosity personified, full of patient leniency toward all the science philistines whose priorities were completely misplaced. A habit she already had a hundred years ago. It seemed to have gotten worse.
"Symin is treating him. Link has at least one broken rib, several bruises, two broken fingers, abrasions all over his body, and some cuts. He doesn't appear to have any internal injuries and when I left all of his bleeding had stopped. He's responsive and in surprisingly good shape considering a mountain fell on top of him." Purah shrugged.
Zelda blinked. She could hardly process this surprisingly thorough summary so quickly, having had to fight for every word of news before.
"So he's-"
"Yeah yeah, he's alive. He's loud and annoying and completely insane. Symin had to tie him to the chair when I was done recalibrating the Shiekah Slate because that ox-skinned knight wanted to leave again to get you. So the longer we stand around here, the more likely he is to kill my assistant in an attempt to free himself." Purah frowned. "And even though Symin is a cranky old neat freak, I still need him. Well?!"
Again she held up the Shiekah Slate, while Zelda still had trouble processing all the words.
Twice she started to speak, and each time her tongue failed her.
"You recalibrated the Shiekah Slate?"
It was the researcher speaking through her and her guilty conscience instantly gave her an internal sermon. They had tied Link to a chair?!
That was the much more important piece of information. Because it was absolutely wrong! And besides, how had they done it?
Purah's eyes lit up at the question.
"Oh, yes, you see, I did-"
Zelda realized her mistake. She cut Purah off with an apologetic expression.
"Tell me about it later. I'm looking forward to it, but please, we should get out of here first."
Purah frowned.
"That's what I've been trying to tell you all along." She motioned Zelda to come closer, then held out her hand to her.
"Take my hand." With the other, Purah operated the tablet. How she did it was a mystery to Zelda, because Purah only used her thumb. Her very small thumb.
She averted her eyes from this puzzle and turned to look at the helpers. She hadn't really noticed them at all, too worried about Link and still too disoriented by what had happened.
The two men seemed strong and powerful, and now that she had been found, they were standing at the side a little indecisively, talking in hushed voices. One pointed to the mountain, while the other seemed to be thinking sharply. They were most likely talking about the rockslide.
Zelda shivered.
"Don't worry about them," Purah said, his eyes lowered to the Shiekah Slate. "They'll get back to the village on their own. They know the area. They live here."
"They deserve my gratitude," Zelda said hesitantly.
"And I don't? I did most of the work." Zelda looked down at Purah, who gestured carelessly with the Shiekah Slate.
"I had to recalibrate the Shiekah Slate without ever having done that before. And the whole time Link was breathing down my neck. You'd better be grateful to me, Princess."
Zelda gritted her teeth involuntarily.
"I am, Purah. I am indeed."
"Good, can we go then?"
Zelda suppressed a sigh and grabbed Purah's hand. She would find plenty of opportunity to thank the helpers.
"Are you sure this will work?"
Purah looked at her in irritation.
"What do you mean?"
Zelda's gaze fell on the Shiekah Slate.
"The recalibration. How do you know it will work? It's the first time. And the mass of two bodies is significantly different from just one. Not to mention the field of-" She broke off as Purah raised her hand, frowning and shaking her head briefly in disbelief.
"Of course it works." Purah made a dumbfounded sound of aghast indignation. It was as if she couldn't for the life of her imagine what made Zelda ask that question.
Zelda took a breath to remind her of her current biological age, which she owed to that very overconfidence, but was interrupted when Purah shouted, "To the Hateno Tech Lab!" It sounded like a battle cry.
"ZELDA!" She jumped, flinching at the violence in the voice.
She had barely materialized when she was grabbed.
"Are you- how-?" It was Link who seized her by the shoulders, staring at her like she was a ghost.
Wild desperation glowed in his eyes. Beneath his sunny complexion, he was pale, every muscle in his face strained. His hair stood out as if he had run his hands through it about a thousand times, half of it still dyed that horrible pale pink. From his blood.
She managed a nod.
"Yes. I-I'm fine. What about you, how-" she broke off because Link's breathing had changed. It became laboured and forced. His chest rose and fell like a pair of bellows.
"Link, what-"
"Never again," he hissed, and Zelda flinched from the heat in his gaze.
Only then did she notice something was missing. His clothes. But there was no time to process that information, because he shook her.
"You never do anything like that again!"
She blinked in confusion. His hands dug deeper into the muscles of her shoulders, so hard it almost hurt. Once more he shook her. And again.
Pain exploded in her neck, shooting down her spine, and Zelda emitted a tormented wail.
Immediately, Link loosened his grip.
He pulled her closer to him, closer to his scorching hot skin, of which there was way too much on display, and made soothing sounds deep in his throat.
"Sh-sh- I'm sorry. Where does it hurt? Here?!" His hands travelled from her shoulders to her neck. Eyes narrowed, Zelda could do nothing but wait, frozen, while his fingers palpated her neck. She winced as he found the many painful spots, even as he proceeded carefully.
His voice had softened, but when Zelda opened her eyes again, none of the anger in his gaze had vanished.
"I swear, I'm about to put you over my knee," he murmured hoarsely, his voice quivering with anger, his hands on either side of her neck. His thumbs stroked the strands of rope-like knotted muscle gently
A strange mixture of goosebumps and pain made Zelda twitch, trying to evade his fingers. She whimpered, but instead of giving in to her obvious discomfort, his hands gripped her even tighter. He pulled her closer against him. His breath met her nose.
Everything inside her was painfully tense. She grimaced.
"Ow- Link, you're hurting me," she breathed. She wasn't capable of more, too breathless, too wretched, a feeling like a thousand little pinpricks in her neck.
" I don't give a shit that you're the princess. I'm responsible for your safety!" he continued to speak as if he hadn't heard her at all.
The restraint and caution of his touch was in stark contrast to his words.
Zelda felt dizzy.
"Promise me!"
Zelda moaned. His fingers had felt a particularly painful spot and were pressing down on it.
She tried to move away, tried to escape the stinging sensation. A needle, no, a knife in her neck.
"Aah-" Zelda arched and writhed, trembling as hot, nausea-inducing bolts shot into her fingertips, choking her throat. Her vision went white, she couldn't move, couldn't breathe.
Then, suddenly, the pain subsided.
Link's hands lifted from her neck, but remained loosely on her shoulders.
Zelda stood there, not moving. Stunned, startled and a little ashamed, she blinked at Link.
The anger in his eyes had not faded one bit.
For the moment, though, her disbelief at having her neck tilted back, shoulders still hunched defensively, without pain, predominated everything.
Cautiously, Zelda moved her head. Braced herself for the already well-known pain.
Which did not come.
With a breathy sound, all her pent-up air escaped.
Link had done something, had pressed a magic spot and taken away her pain.
"You-you did-" she began to stammer, staring at him with wide eyes while he seemed to quiver with barely suppressed rage.
"Promise. Me," he pressed out, his face as immobile as granite.
As much as his anger shocked her, as much as all of this shocked her, she could still only shake her head weakly. "I can't."
With a growl, he pushed away from her.
"Yes yes, you're her big protector. We all know that," Purah interjected unmoved. "Now, are you going to come and get treated, or does Symin have to give you a sedative?"
Link turned his head to look at Purah, silent and still breathing heavily. It was clear that he was struggling for composure, and when his gaze met Purah's, she started to look a little concerned for the first time.
For a short moment, she just seemed to be a young, insecure girl.
"Link," Zelda said softly. "Please."
She flinched anew at the heat in his gaze, but he was already turning, growled and marched off in the direction of the Institute, where he pushed open the door and disappeared.
"My goodness," Purah muttered, shaking his head like a dog trying to get off rid of the water in his ears.
"He's so angry," whispered Zelda.
"And he'll calm down eventually." Purah sounded a bit more cocky again.
"Come, Princess." A bit of the old gentleness mixed into Purah's voice. "Let's see about treating these scratches. That's got to hurt."
Gently, she tugged on Zelda's sleeve and pulled her along behind her.
Zelda followed her with strangely soft knees. Her stomach felt empty and queasy.
She was here. Link was here. They had escaped that terrible accident.
And he was angry with her. Very angry.
Zelda bit her lower lip. Breathed in and out with concentration. She could bear this. She had done what she had to do. And she didn't regret it.
Never.
She would endure it. Even if it hurt.
She would do it again. Yes, he was protecting her. But she was also a protector. And she wouldn't have been able to live if something had happened to him.
The thought alone made her shudder again. So close...danger had been so close.
Zelda tightened her shoulders and clenched her hands into fists.
Then she followed Purah through the door into the interior of the lab.
Chaos enveloped her instantly. There was paper everywhere. Books bound in leather, half open, thickly filled with loose scraps of paper. Paper stuck to the walls, to the ceilings.
The table overflowed with utensils whose purpose Zelda couldn't discern and... was that a pitchfork? - and some more books. The only free space was to the left, by the Guidance Stone, or at least it was the only free space in the front of the room.
Zelda returned Symin's wave and following bow with a faint smile. He stood behind the line that intersected the floor, on the side that was sparkling clean and, by the looks of it, had freshly waxed floorboards, his hands clasped patiently behind his back.
Beside him was a table laden with some tools that had clearly been used to tend to Link's injuries. Zelda averted her eyes from the already bloody bandages. Instead, she looked at the chair that stood next to the table. On the floor in front of it curled the tattered remains of a rope.
Zelda swallowed. So Purah hadn't been exaggerating.
"Be a good Linky and sit down in the chair again so Symin can continue. You've bled over enough of my notes."
The courage of the Shiekah far exceeded Zelda's. She wouldn't have dared lay a hand on Link, let alone nudge him, like Purah did. Not when he was shooting these lightning bolts with his eyes.
Link stood on the chaotic side of the room, scorching everything with the blue fire that burned in his eyes. His gaze had sought Zelda as she had entered, an inventory from afar, familiar yet so different. She felt her ears grow hot. But Zelda steeled herself against the weakness in her legs and chest.
She would endure his anger. He had a right to be mad, but that didn't change the fact that she didn't regret her actions. That it had been the right thing to do. Hopefully, he would realize that eventually.
When she returned his gaze calmly, he turned his head as if he couldn't bear to look at her any longer.
Or maybe it was because of Purah, who kept poking him.
To him, it must have felt like a butterfly was trying to push him.
Purah emitted an angry sound and then raised her head, placing a hand on her hip as she boldly met Link's gaze.
"You don't even have to look at me like that, you're not half as scary as Symin, when I step into his side of the lab." Purah gave her fellow researcher a sharp look. "And your exaggerating just as much as he does."
Link fell quiet, now smouldering in silence. However, he indeed stepped over the line on the floor and took a seat in the chair. He probably had no more patience to continue to fight off the miniature researcher.
As she watched him, Zelda found it increasingly difficult to breathe.
She felt shabby, but she couldn't help staring at him - while he was injured.
But ... she had never seen him. Not like this. Half-naked, a whispering voice inside her specified helpfully.
Zelda swallowed.
She knew Link was muscular. She saw the evidence all the time. On his arms, his legs, his back. His clothes failed to hide the contours of his body.
And Zelda had always liked his physique. He wasn't lanky like some men, but neither was he overly beefy like other knights had been, back when there had been other knights.
Fascinated, her gaze slid along the ridges of gently accentuated musculature, silently admiring how the taut strand of his neck merged into the soft curve of his shoulder, briefly glued to the small dip where the lines met.
Observed with soft knees the elegant, powerful sweep of his collarbones.
Then her gaze slid lower and she saw his injuries.
It was indeed not as bad as it had first looked.
Link had been right.
But that didn't mean much.
Gently, Symin washed away the blood and revealed what lay beneath the dirt and clotted blood with efficient, swift movements.
A large abrasion that adorned Link's entire right side was indeed not deep, but it was fiery red and badly swollen.
The bruises looked even worse, and the contusions already shimmered in all the colours of the rainbow.
First, Symin tended to the wound on Link's head.
Zelda had once read that head wounds always bled heavily. So the amount of blood on Link's face, the sticky red that had stained his hair, was no indication of the extent of the injury.
Symin exposed a nasty swollen, blue tinged cut that ran across Link's right temple and extended behind his hairline.
It had to hurt, but Link didn't make a face. He sat there silently, looking off into nowhere, nodding only occasionally when Symin muttered something Zelda couldn't understand.
Only when he turned and held something, that looked suspiciously like a needle, over a small candle, did Zelda avert her eyes.
Her lip was getting sore, she was biting it so hard.
She tried to block out the rustling and clinking, tried not to picture what Symin was doing. But the image of a needle being pulled through human flesh in the macabre imitation of a tailor, could not be erased from her mind.
The sinking feeling inside her intensified.
Her reaction was ridiculous. Link was the one in pain. He was the one whose wounds needed stitches.
And she felt sick at the thought alone.
Zelda shivered.
Then she let out a hissing sound as she felt a sharp burning sensation on her right hand.
She winced and tried to pull her hand away, but didn't get far, because Purah was holding it tightly.
"I'm sorry, I know it hurts. I warned you."
Big brown eyes behind round glasses looked up and Zelda hurried to smile.
Purah had begun dabbing Zelda's palm with a cloth soaked in herbaceous-scented liquid, apparently even announcing it beforehand.
Zelda just hadn't noticed it.
Apparently, it wasn't just Link who was shaken to the core.
"What are you guys doing here anyway?"
Zelda blinked and watched Purah in bewilderment.
The old woman in a girl's body briefly looked as if she were embarrassed. The moment passed as quickly as a drop of water in the Gerudo desert.
"Sorry, that came out differently than it should have. I'm glad to see you, but ..." Purah punctuated the open question with a gesture. But Zelda was not in the mood to talk about it now.
She shook her head and muttered, "Later, Purah. That' s not important right now."
Purah pursed her lips. She looked like she wanted to say something, but finally she just shrugged. Without another word, she proceeded to dab Zelda's skin with the tincture-soaked cloth.
Zelda could hardly believe it. Unconsciously, she had already expected a heated argument about the matter.
She lowered her eyes. Watched silently, while Purah cleaned the scratches and cuts on her hand and then dusted them with a bit of white powder. Zelda recognized the procedure and trusted the results. In her life as a princess, she had not been given much opportunity to injure herself in play or during scuffles as a child, but she had occasionally hurt herself on her research trips, and had been cared for in the same way, by the Shiekah scholars present at the time.
The powder was a mixture of a dried and finely crushed plant, which helped in wound healing, and equal parts of powdered mineral - a special kind known only to the Shiekah - which kept moisture out and at the same time formed a dispersion-open protective layer, making bandages redundant.
Mainly, it took away the uncomfortably sore feeling, for which Zelda was grateful.
Silence had settled over the room, divided in two. Chaos and women on the one, immaculately clean order and men on the other side.
A chair scraped on the floor and Zelda startled. Sluggishly, she looked around. For a brief moment, time seemed to have stopped.
Purah was just stopping to tend her hands, and a glance told Zelda that Symin was handing Link his filthy, bloody garment.
Link accepted it silently, regarding it briefly without pulling a face, then slipping it on.
He must have felt her gaze, because he looked at her when finished dressing.
Zelda's eyes darted along the signs of the catastrophe. Again, she was overcome by a sense of barely escaped danger.
Again, she shivered. The cold on Link's face didn't necessarily make her feel better. Gone was the fire and anger, that blue ice in his eyes much more disturbing.
Zelda averted her gaze and looked at Symin instead.
"How many ribs are broken?" she asked him, attempting to be strong. To her own ear, she sounded mostly tired.
"None at all," Symin replied, sounding far too cheerful. He put his hands in the pitcher on the table and began to wash his hands and forearms.
"Just bruised. And that should be taken care of quickly by the ointment."
"Bruised?" asked Zelda, simultaneously relieved and confused. And cautious. She didn't want to hope too quickly and then be confronted with the bad news. There almost always was bad news.
"But I thought-" she broke off and gave Purah a quick look. She just shrugged.
"So, there are no internal injuries, no breathing problems?"
Symin chuckled and took a clean cloth to dry his hands.
"Oh, he'll have some breathing difficulties. The ribs tend to hurt like a bitch."
He shrugged and gave Link an encouraging yet understanding look.
"But nothing our hero can't handle." A smile appeared on Symin's face that Zelda couldn't place. "With a little proper care and l-"
"I'm fine," Link interrupted him impatiently. He gave Symin a frown, which he only returned with a smile and silence.
"I know what I have to do. This isn't my first injury."
That Link didn't like to draw attention to himself was something Zelda was aware of, but this depiction now struck her as a bit of an understatement.
"Link, you-"
"Or don't you trust me in this either."
She had not anticipated an attack like that.
Never before had he reacted like this. Vicious and reproachful, almost hostile.
Zelda stared at him in dismay. This could only be an attempt to vent his frustration. He couldn't really think that she didn't trust him. Couldn't really believe that a lack of trust in him, in his abilities, had been the reason for her actions.
"What?" she gasped. "No, of course I trust-"
"We're going," he interrupted her, his face stubborn and his voice hard.
"Come!" He reached out to her, his eyes averted, as if he couldn't bear to look at her. Which was probably true.
It hurt, but Zelda still felt no remorse. A new emotional experience for her, who had always doubted her decisions and actions.
She sighed. She should probably just let him be. Give him his way now and be sympathetic and yielding.
Hesitantly, she took a step toward him. That was the answer Link needed, because he turned away from her brusquely and headed for the door.
Zelda followed him cautiously. Where was he going? Actually, she had thought they would stay at the lab. The inn didn't offer enough privacy and was definitely not the right place for someone suffering from injuries like Link's.
"Link," Zelda began frantically, "where-"
She was interrupted by Purah, who resolutely put herself in Link's path.
"Where do you think you're going, you Bokoblin-headed idiot? You heard Symin, your ribs are bruised and your head took a mighty pounding. You can't really think I'm going to let you go."
She braced a hand on her hip.
"And where are you going to take the princess? She's had the fright of her life and you're just going to take her away from here? She needs-"
"She had the fright of her life?!"
Link snorted and shook his head. He sounded so grim that even Purah flinched. Concern once again appeared on her face. Then her own courage broke through anew. She stuck out her lower lip and gestured boldly with her free hand. "Now listen-"
"I'm her appointed knight," he interrupted her in a hiss, the sound so explosive in the silent room that it startled Zelda. She couldn't see his face, but she felt the threatening energy emanating from him just the same.
This was Link in battle. This was the dangerous warrior who put enemies to flight with his reputation and the cold blue fire in his gaze alone.
"For me, that still means something. And I know what she needs," he growled through clenched teeth, the last strings of his temper close to tearing.
"I'm going home and she's coming with me!"
Before Zelda could open her mouth, Link wheeled around to face her. Blue flashed across the room. "I'm not letting her out of my sight again."
Purah's eyebrows drew together.
"That seems a bit excessive." She raised a lecturing finger. Once, it had seemed imposing, now it was ... cute. A little girl facing the great hero of Hyrule.
"The princess saved your life. It's completely unnecessary for you to act like you've been scammed. It's thanks to her quick reaction and courage that you're no longer bleeding like a slaughtered ox. So stop being offended. This stupidity does not become you, oh chosen champion."
Zelda's gaze flew back and forth between Purah and Link. Surprise and a little modest gratitude at Purah's words alternating with growing concern over Link's expression.
Despite the cautious relief at Purah's presentation (a small part of Zelda had apparently begun to doubt the rightness of her actions after all) of the situation, concern triumphed.
Link looked like he was about to explode.
His chest was rising and falling with rapid violence, and an unhealthy-looking color blotted his still pale face.
His hands were clenched into fists, twitching at irregular intervals, and his nostrils were flared like those of a panicked horse.
"Uh, Purah," Zelda began hesitantly, but that's when it happened. Link exploded.
"By Hylia's tits, Midna save me from impudent Shiekah hags, who think they know it all better. You're crazy! Impa's right, you're completely crazy."
His whole body taut as a bowstring, fists still clenched, he leaned toward Purah, crowding her into her personal space, threatening and loud and out of control.
Zelda held her breath, too shocked by the sight, by the crude words coming from his mouth.
While Purah simply looked at Link with a slightly furrowed brow. That was all the reaction she showed.
A grandmother watching her grandson licking at a snail. Slightly disapproving, but too experienced with life to intervene. Watchful and superior.
All in one, they seemed to exist completely apart from each other. Link regardless of Purah's ignorance and Purah ignorant of Link's anger.
It would have been fascinating, if it wasn't digging another hole in Zelda's chest, that was quickly filling with guilt and worry, an overflowing well of feelings she couldn't manage.
"Do you feel better now?" asked Purah finally, after Link had fallen silent, his breathing still heavy and his jaw tense.
"Good." Purah nodded with satisfaction, the calculating expression that briefly appeared on her face, completely out of place on such youthful features.
It gave the whole process an air of ... scheme.
Wait a minute. Had Purah provoked Link on purpose?
Why? What...
"Then drink this. You need fluids to heal."
From somewhere, Purah had fetched a cup, which she now held out to Link. Who looked at it like Purah was holding a snake out to him.
Zelda could relate. This caring gesture seemed surprisingly arbitrary and more than a little out of place.
But he took the cup after a blink. Only to pass it to Zelda immediately, though
"Here. Drink!"
Zelda stared at the cup, but before she could react, Purah had already grabbed it from her again.
"No!" She pushed the cup back into Link's hand.
"You need it more than she does. You've lost blood. She didn't."
Link's hand had closed around the wooden drinking cup as if by reflex. He looked at it for a moment, then something locked in his gaze and began to drink.
In a few impatient draughts he emptied the cup and handed it back to Purah.
It all seemed so surreal. So strange and weird, and a hysterical laugh bubbled up inside Zelda, which she struggled to control.
She could never have imagined such a grotesque interaction. It was like being in a play. One of the ridiculous comedies that travelling fairmen sometimes put on for festivities. Exaggerated nonsense, meant only for amusement in its far-from-life absurdity.
But she didn't have much time to be shocked.
With the swiftness of a striking snake, Link seized the Shiekah Slate that until this point had sat on the table cluttered with books and exotic devices.
The movement sent several sheets of paper sailing to the floor, and a glass flask containing liquid of indeterminable colour swayed dangerously. No one paid it much attention.
Zelda emitted a startled little sound when Link grabbed her by the arm. She stumbled behind as he dragged her toward the door.
His reaction touched her in a peculiar way, that was probably very inappropriate.
He always seemed so... composed. Reserved and guarded and she never really knew where she stood with him. Except for the basic things, she could be sure of, like his loyalty and kindness, his courage, she didn't know moved him.
But nothing ever stirred him. He was controlled and disciplined and calm.
He was always unaffected, when he caused the exact opposite in her. He made her nervous, happy, angry, or all at once.
But ... she had never seen him like this.
It was strangely liberating. Human. Raw and honest.
Against her will, Zelda was ... fascinated.
That wasn't the only reason she didn't resist when Link pulled her away.
She barely had time to turn to Purah and Symin.
"Thank you," Zelda said over her shoulder as she stumbled after Link. "Thank you very, very much. I'll stop by again soon."
Symin nodded and Purah gave her a thumbs up. Amazement on both faces.
As soon as they left the building, Link let go of her arm. His steps were no louder than usual, nothing was missing from his typical graceful-forthright way of moving. At most, he was a bit more brash about it, when he stopped to look at the Shiekah Slate.
"Come here," he murmured, his voice so full of command that Zelda followed the demand without hesitation.
She didn't realize what he was up to, until they were already beginning to dematerialize.
It was a strange feeling. A bit like the stasis in which Zelda had spent a hundred years. Briefly, neither time nor thought existed, then everything was back abruptly and it was hard to remember the teleportation at all.
Immediately Link let go of her again. Without an explanatory word, he stepped down from the plateau of the shrine where he had teleported them, and stowed the Shiekah Slate at his belt, with the naturalness of hundreds of repetitions. Zelda, meanwhile, was still busy looking for orientation.
It was dawn. Some stars were already in the grey sky, the sun no longer visible, but still indirectly illuminating the brilliantly bright clouds on the dark horizon.
Still, she recognized the surroundings by the distinct markings.
Landa's fast-built houses.
They were still in Hateno Village. Near Link's house.
The house Link was heading to, without giving her another glance.
For having so vehemently claimed, just a moment ago, that he wouldn't let her out of his sight again, he now seemed relatively indifferent to where she remained.
A clear sign of how angry he was.
Zelda pressed her lips together and followed him.
"I'm sorry," she finally called out to his stiff back as they passed the bridge leading to Link's house, when Zelda could no longer stand the silence.
"I'm really sorry, but ... but I'm not going to apologize."
Link did not stop, but stubbornly continued walking.
Zelda quickened her steps and caught up with him, as they stepped onto the meadow that flourished in front of the charming old house. Now, however, most of the blossoms were closed and the soft stillness of balmy summer nights lay over the scene.
Zelda had been here once before, shortly after they had banished Ganon. Back then, they had made many visits, going to all the settlements, forging alliances, and handing out apologies and thank-yous.
They had come to Hateno right after they had visited Impa, and at that time this place had seemed to Zelda like from another world.
A souvenir from the life Link could lead, if she didn't exist.
It was beautiful, the old farmhouse with its high ceilings and cosy furnishings, and it had filled her with quiet longing.
"I don't want an apology from you!"
Zelda hadn't expected an answer any more. She averted her eyes from the facade of the house and refocused on Link. She frowned at him. He didn't want an apology? That made no sense, whatsoever.
"Then what do you want?" she asked, a little breathless from the effort to catch up with him.
In response, Link stopped so abruptly, Zelda tumbled against him.
Jerkily, he turned around, his face so grim that Zelda took a step back.
And another. Link followed her with narrowed eyes and tight lips, a strained tug around his mouth.
The large tree on the property slowed her retreat, and anxiously she watched Link advancing on her in a predatory stride.
She felt a little like a cornered animal. Nervousness fluttered uncontrollably in her stomach and she felt sweat break out on the back of her neck.
"I want you to promise me," he murmured, emphasizing each word like his life depended on it, "that you will never, ever do something so foolish again."
His eyes bored into hers. Hypnotized, she stared at him. His gaze impaled her, held her so tightly she couldn't move, frozen, glued in place.
"Promise me!" he repeated, hushed.
His breath brushed across her face, chilling the freshly condensed moisture on her forehead. Cold fire. Hot anger and ... something else. Something flickering.
She opened her mouth to answer, but what she saw there, in the depths of his eyes, in the depths of his ... what, his soul? - could she see into his soul? - what she saw there, made her hesitate.
She wanted to tell him yes, I promise. And she wanted to say no, never.
She wanted to be honest and she wanted to lie. Wanted to say what he wanted to hear, wanted to be what he needed.
But...
She couldn't.
She wanted to make him happy. Wanted it so badly that it almost burned her from the inside, but ...
He was the most important thing in the whole world to her.
It was shameful, considering her role. She shouldn't feel that way. Hyrule, the people, they should be her top priority. And she had tried. Really. Year after year, she had tried.
And in the end... in the end, it hadn't counted. Not the duty, not the fear, not the feeling of disappointment and failure. What had counted, in the end, was Link.
The desire to protect him, the urge to save him, had revealed the powers that had never shown themselves before. Buried under the pressure of years of worry, duty and fear of failure, the sacred sealing power had vegetated, regardless of how hard Zelda worked to awaken it.
In the end, it had been Link's despair, one look at his figure quivering with exhaustion. His collapse.
The fear for his life had revealed her innermost purpose.
He had been the key.
Her love.
Her love for the hero.
Protecting him was her purpose.
No matter how much he would fight it.
Her hand moved against her conscious will.
She raised her arm and her fingers found the outline of his chin, stroking up to the curve of his cheek, on to his eyebrow, stopping just below the blue and red swollen cut that Symin had stitched expertly.
Delicate as the movement of a water strider, the touch so fine that Zelda herself barely felt it.
Under her fingers, Link froze, his whole body transfixed with astonishment.
His lips were slightly parted and even his breathing seemed to have stopped.
"I can't," she whispered, her voice full of regret. She shook her head, her hand still raised, the heat of his skin beneath her fingers.
"I'm sorry. I can't."
For a moment, nothing happened except that he looked at her, unwavering. The blue glass of his eyes liquefied; without blinking, he stared at her. Breathless and without any reaction.
Then the ice on his face melted and his shoulders slumped.
A sigh clawed its way through his throat and he dropped his gaze.
The connection broke, leaving regret in its wake. Black and heavy, yet necessary.
Her thumb gently stroked the smooth surface of his cheek, now that she had crossed her self-imposed boundary by touching him, she couldn't stop.
Again Link sighed and Zelda felt the echo in her heart. Then he looked up and the molten emotion in his eyes took her breath away.
Brilliantly shone the turmoil of feeling, so blue, so wild, so agitated.
Tortured and resigned and acquiescent.
"Zelda," he murmured, his voice barely audible, raw and fractured. Zelda's heart contracted painfully.
He exhaled audibly, then put his hand over hers and pulled it away from his face.
Didn't let her go, though, but held her tight, enfolding her smaller hand with his larger one.
Warmth wrapped itself around Zelda's insides, rising up her spine and settling into her cheeks.
"Zelda," he repeated softly, this time in a voice that sounded less brittle, less on the verge of shattering into a thousand pieces. But still not far from it.
"You have no idea what you're doing to me. Protecting you is my responsibility. If you take this away from me-"
He sounded tired and weary, no wonder after the day's events. She wanted to wrap him in a blanket and put him to sleep, watch over his dreams as he watched over hers and keep any danger from him.
She swallowed, still unable to take her eyes off him.
His left hand slowly reached for her other. Carefully, as if he expected her to flee like a wild animal if he startled her with one swift movement.
He intertwined her cold, clammy fingers with his warm ones. Smoothly, the leather of his gloves nestled against her palms and she winced as the scraped skin there protested the friction, gentle as it was.
The pain must have shown on her face, because immediately his gaze sharpened.
Swiftly, he turned her palms upward.
Silently, Zelda allowed it to happen.
Link didn't say a word as he looked at her hands. Gently he stroked her skin where it was not sore and scraped.
Purah's powder had already had some effect, but it was no miracle cure and hands were sensitive.
Considering what Link had suffered, the superficial cuts were so insignificant that Zelda lowered her eyes in embarrassment.
She pulled her hands from his grasp.
"It's nothing," she muttered, letting her hands curl into light fists, annoyed that she hadn't been able to suppress the unconscious reaction.
"I'm sorry," Link said softly. Keeping her gaze lowered and focused on her hands, even as Zelda pulled them to her chest.
"Everything. The mountains, the accident, that you had to go through that. Everything."
"Don't be ridiculous!" she snapped. "I-it-please forgive me," she hurried to say. "I didn't mean it that way. It's just..." She tilted her head, trying to look him in the eye.
"You saved my life. Again. I... none of this is your fault. If anything, it's mine. If I were able to control my fears, you wouldn't have chosen this path. If anyone's to blame, it's me. Me, Link. Me!"
"Stop it!" said Link, his voice tight.
Zelda bit her lip as tears welled up in her eyes. Clenched her eyelids tightly, trying to force them back.
But the horror of the day was now finally catching up with her. She felt raw and shaken. Rattled and so scared and exhausted that she just wanted to curl up.
"Your fault ... how can you believe that?"
A little hysterical hiccup escaped her at the incredulous sound of Link's voice.
"H-how can you...this-this is absurd. So absurd. Y-you do-I have so many problems and you-everything you do is for me-how can you...how can you…"
She had begun to tremble. The words came out only in bits and pieces, choppy, separated by the irregular rhythm of the cleaver of her mind.
She sounded hysterical, her voice high and fragile, so thrown by the twisted, grotesque notion that Link could truly think, some of what had happened today, might be his fault.
"No, Zelda, please, don't cry." Link's hands grabbed her by her elbows, pulling her forward slightly. Slowly, carefully, indecisively. As if he were giving her time to resist, time to contradict. He made soothing sounds and stroked her arms, gently and repetitively, until she took a stumbling step forward, into an embrace that somehow came of its own accord after that.
It was awkward and unsatisfying, Zelda didn't dare touch him, seeing in her mind's eye all the colorful injuries that marked his torso. Link, on the other hand, tried to pull her closer, but probably interpreted her hesitation as resistance, because he stopped in mid-motion. His hands were still rubbing over her arms. The middle ground he found in an effort to reassure her.
"I live to protect you," he finally said, his voice calmer but his tone no less emphatic. Both their heads were bent, his forehead resting against her temple, which she allowed only because it was his uninjured side. His hair tickled the back of her neck and comforting warmth hit her throat with each breath he took.
"I couldn't live with myself if...if..." It was the first time she had heard him struggle for words like this. As if the very thought was difficult for him, and as if saying it was almost impossible.
"Oh damn," he finally said, his voice hoarse with resignation and other dark feelings.
Zelda swallowed.
They were so close.
And they were more alike than she had ever known. At least in that way.
"Do you think I could live with that?" she asked softly, the tremor gone from her voice.
"If you would sacrifice your life for mine?" She had no trouble saying it, the concept was too familiar to her. She had lived it. Had watched idly while countless souls breathed out their lives, because of her.
She had seen him fall to protect her.
Even though the miracle had happened and he was now standing here before her.
"Yes," Link blurted out, "Oh, yes." A growl accompanied his words and he raised his head a little. His hands gripped her upper arms tighter. Not painfully, but in a way that made her look up as well. His face was close to hers, so close that she could make out every one of his dark lashes, so close that the rekindled fire in his eyes almost seared her. His hot breath brushed her lips intermittently.
She stiffened, but didn't resist.
"Yes," he repeated darkly. "You could. You would have to. You have a nation that needs you. You are queen, or soon will be. The formalities don't matter, because in all our hearts, you already are." His thumbs dug into her flesh, but Zelda felt no pain. Not there. But her heart ached. Bled at his words, at the pain in his gaze.
"What good is my life, now that Ganon is defeated?" He sounded hoarse, but not bitter. As if he were simply reciting a fact he had long ago concluded.
Her breath caught at this abstruse insight into Link's mind, her mind wrestling with the illogical conclusion, stunned at the nonchalance with which he spoke of his life.
Her lips opened, but no words came out.
"I'll tell you for what," he murmured urgently, his eyes blazing. "For you, Zelda. Only for you. I live for you." His hands had begun to vibrate, excess energy flowing into her body and continuing through her bones, making her teeth chatter.
"For you!" he repeated more softly. His fingers released their grip from her arms and stroked up to her shoulders, resting against her neck, thumbs against the tender skin of her earlobes. Hot, she felt the touch on the sensitive spot, felt the circles he inscribed there, all the way down to the tips of her toes.
"Do you understand? You are my life. Don't take that away from me. I couldn't stand it. I-"
Somehow, they had grown closer again. So close that Link rested his chin on the crown of her head, while his hands formed a cradle for her head.
Zelda's eyes were wide open. She couldn't see much more than the shadows on Link's neck and the beginnings of his shoulders.
But his words distracted her so much that even in sunshine and without his body directly in front of her, she wouldn't have noticed much.
Cold realization seeped into her chest.
"Link," she breathed as if dazed, "This is..." she broke off, every word suddenly gone from her head. She squeezed her eyes shut, concentrating on verbalizing her wildly racing thoughts.
" That' s not healthy." She shook her head slightly, eyes still closed.
He couldn't be allowed to look at his life this way. As if it wasn't valuable after he had done, what the legend demanded of the hero. Regardless of the fact that his role was an enormously important one in the rebuilding of Hyrule, Link was his own master.
He earned his happiness. His life. He deserved a choice.
He deserved freedom and ... how could he see it that way?
"You have to-" Zelda began, wanting to tell him all this, to make him understand that he had his life ahead of him, that he could do anything, be anything, that came to mind. That his life wasn't tied to hers. That he was free.
But the words wouldn't form. So much she wanted to say, but language was her obstacle, no vehicle of expression. Frustrated, she opened her eyes. Oh, how she wished to let him look into her mind. Just this once. He had to see...understand...
"You need-" she started again, the frustration now audible in her voice.
Her hands clasped his wrists, ignorant to the brief flash of pain. She pulled his hands away, taking a step back.
"Link, you-"
He interrupted her with a searing look.
"I'm perfectly sure of my place, Zelda. I need nothing more than the knowledge that you are safe." There was a tiny bit of impatience mixed into the words, but otherwise he sounded completely calm. Almost ironclad.
But he saw the incomprehension in her face, read from the slight shake of the head what she couldn't express without getting caught up in her own words.
He took a quick breath.
"I swore it," he said soberly, as if speaking of the weather.
"I gave my word to protect your life with mine."
His hands found their way back to her neck. Lying there warm and gentle, the pressure of his fingers though stronger than before.
The emphasis with which he tried to make her understand, mirrored in his touch.
She could feel his whole body positively vibrating.
"I can't fail at this," he said tonelessly, as if the idea alone was enough to freeze everything inside him. Zelda could relate.
"I can't!" Her teeth clicked softly together as he shook her gently.
Zelda stared at him. No thought in her mind, only bewilderment, every muscle limp with dismay.
Link returned her gaze silently, without any emotion except for the slightly flared nostrils and the lightly glazed glint of his eyes.
He looked at her as though he had not just dropped a bomb. As if he hadn't just revealed that he thought his life was worth little, that his task as hero was done and that he only found meaning in protecting her life.
So much was wrong with this conversation. So much.
Horrified, shaken, she looked at him. The face she had grown so fond of. This big-hearted, wonderful, impressive, admirable man.
A man who had the same twisted views of the value of his life that she had had, before Link had shown her a way out of desperation with his patience and friendship.
If that was the case, she couldn't cure him of his conviction with logical arguments. For that she needed more.
That's why, in the end, she only said the following:
"I cannot bind you to an oath you do not remember making."
Her tone was full of compassion.
Her words seemed like a whip crack over the resting temper of Hylia's hero.
His eyes narrowed abruptly. A muscle in his cheek twitched and his gaze burned hotly.
"I don't remember?" he groaned. His fingers gripped the back of her skull and Zelda's head tipped back as he increased the pressure. He didn't hurt her, but her instinctive reaction to the rough touch was to stiffen her whole body. She felt like a cat being grabbed by the neck. Her spine tingled and her breathing became rapid and shallow.
"And how, tell me, do you know what I remember?" The words sounded like a dark hiss, he clenched his teeth so hard.
"You stopped asking about it years ago!" Anger and bitterness churned the words, were in his gaze, stared mockingly at her from his face.
Startled, she drew in a breath. Shrank back from the accusation and the truth. But before she could answer, he spoke on.
"I remember enough," he hurled at her. "But if that's not enough for you, then I renew my vow. Here and now. Or better yet, in front of the whole village as a witness."
In a powerful motion, he pointed his left arm in the direction of the other houses. He held the back of her head with only his other hand, but the shock still continued into her body, jolting her.
Her own hand flew to his wrist, an unconscious attempt to loosen the grip that kept sending hot-cold sensations down her spine, lifting her onto her toes and making her nerves vibrate. The sensation somewhere in the unknown land between uncomfortable and soothing, like massaging a hard-stretched, aching muscle.
"Link," she said to him breathlessly, perhaps to remind him that his touch was not without consequence, or an inadequate request for forgiveness, Zelda herself wasn't sure.
Link ignored her completely.
His gesturing hand found the back of her head again. This time it dug into her unravelled hair, weaving into the matted, protruding strands.
Zelda shuddered.
Their faces were so close. His chest pressed against hers, his thigh rubbing over her hipbone.
In another situation, this kind of closeness would have brought a blush to her cheeks and triggered entirely different sensations.
Now, sorrow and regret raged in her chest, threatening to flood her heart with guilt and grief.
"Shall I vow again?" whispered Link hoarsely. "Is that what you want?" The words hit her already heated skin hotly.
"Link..." Her voice was little more than a whimper. She couldn't respond. It was too fast. He couldn't be serious.
What would her yes mean, and what her no?
Barely a breath passed before she felt him drop to his knees. Felt the movement all down the front of her body. So close, they were so close.
Trembling, her breath escaped her as he took both of her hands.
He knelt before her, in the shadows of the early night, his bright eyes sapphires in the darkness. The starlight reflected in them, his face so haunting, so full of emotion, that Zelda went completely numb.
"Zelda," he murmured in a quivering voice, "Princess of Hyrule, you are the only one I ever want to be bound to."
His hands held hers so tightly that she had no feeling left in them, not even pain. It went well with the rest of her. She blinked at him, completely slowed down, all emotion as if in a swirling cloud outside herself. She wavered. Could do nothing but simply look at him.
She watched and listened as he took a completely false oath (proving that he indeed did not remember), as wonderful, horrible words poured out of him.
She could do nothing.
She didn't want to do anything.
A terrible, selfish wanting reared its ugly head and wanted. Wanted him to bind himself to her, wanted to bind him to her with all earthly and unearthly possibilities.
She wanted and wanted and wanted.
Him.
"Whether I travel through time or dive into the shadows, you are the purpose, you are the meaning. You are the only meaning. I swear to protect you. You and Hyrule. Your life, your heart, your soul, your honour. I am your servant. Not only in this life, but in all that the goddesses see fit to bestow on me. I am yours, Princess."
Some of the urgency, some of the pressure was gone, the last words almost painfully soft and full of emotions that made Zelda's heart throb painfully quick with hope and fear.
She looked at him dully, returning the gaze from his gleaming eyes without moving. It was too dangerous. If she spoke now ... what would she say?
Her heart was filled to bursting with the fervent, desperate wish that his words might mean something else.
"Will you accept my oath?" whispered Link. A smile had appeared in his eyes, a gentle little smile that lifted the corners of his mouth slightly.
Once again, hot moisture rose in Zelda's eyes. Moisture that pushed outward inexorably, stepping over the edge for all the world to see.
Silent tears streaming down her cheeks.
Link's smile did not waver.
Slowly, he rose. His hands did not let go of her. They stroked her arms, her shoulders, found the back of her head, while the other slid down to her lower back.
"Will you take it, Zelda?" whispered Link, his lips against her right ear. "You have to," he said, the smile now in his voice as well. "You have to do it, because if you don't, Hylia help me, I still won't leave your side."
His forearm wrapped around her waist, pulling her body against his, while the thumb of his other hand burrowed small circles into her hair.
"I'm going to come after you whether you like it or not. You would have no peace from me. So you'd better accept my oath, at least then you'll have command over me. By my honor, take my oath."
Zelda perceived what was happening, as if underwater.
She knew she had to react. This wasn't just any moment, nothing in which she could fail. So much depended on it. His honour...his life's purpose.
Oh, Hylia, she couldn't handle this gift, the magnitude of its meaning. She didn't deserve it. She didn't deserve him.
But she couldn't make him understand. It would offend him. Zelda did not like to imagine the extent of this affront.
But could she accept his oath? Did he really know what he was saying?
He had been a knight back then. He had already served the Royal Family, like so many thousands of other men, he had already sworn to defend Hyrule with his life. It had been just another step to transfer that oath to a special member of the Royal Family.
But none of that mattered any more.
The former Hyrule a shadow of its old self.
And that was tragic, but it also offered opportunities.
The chance to choose. She felt his breath on her neck, hot and swift, the lively wind sweeping across her nape, gauging in inaudible chimes that time was ticking away.
"Link," she began hoarsely. She licked her lips nervously.
"That... I..." A terrific way to start.
Her hands fluttered up, to his chest. Originally with the goal of pushing him away a little so she could think better. Which was hard for her to do when he was so close, literally breathing down her neck.
But she stopped herself at the last moment, remembering his injuries.
The thought of inflicting more pain on him was unbearable to her. Her hands fell back down, unused and useless. Dangled beside her body. Never before had she noticed how strange arms felt, hanging down just like that.
She forced herself to concentrate. "It's... an honour," she said hesitantly, weighing each word carefully.
"But it's not...it's not...it's not the right time."
Zelda frowned.
"You're upset and...and wounded and you need to rest and...-"
"That has nothing to do with it." Calm and quiet, he broke through her attempt to bring sanity to the moment.
"Whether I'm hurt or angry, whether you scare me to death by doing something stupid like you did today."
Tormented, Zelda closed her eyes. Link couldn't see it and continued to speak in a rough, soft voice.
"If it's not the right time, then give me some other time, but please, don't just turn it down."
"I-I'm not turning it down."
"No? I'm glad you don't. Because it sounded a lot like you were."
Zelda shook her head slightly. Link's hand in her hair followed the movement and then slid down her neck, resting over the messy, untamed strands.
"I'm trying... I just want you to think about it," she said hesitantly, glad to be able to string at least a few meaningful words together.
"I don't have to."
His quick refusal filled her with impatience.
"I still want you to," she repeated emphatically. Now that she was talking about it, she wanted to make her point.
"Just until... just until the blood stops rushing in your ears and you stop seeing the world as just a personal knight."
He laughed. Completely without humour.
"I want you to have a choice, Link," Zelda continued to speak quickly, her eyes still on his shoulder.
"You have a chance at a life. A life outside of prophecies and legends. Outside of duty so great that ten men should actually carry it. You've been given a second choice. I want you to realize what that means."
The words bubbled out of her. Once started, her mind couldn't keep up with weighing each one, trying to find the right ones. Her mouth just babbled away.
Revealed what she had held inside for so long.
"You have a chance at a life. For example, here, in Hateno Village."
She finally managed to take a step backwards, so she could look at him. She lifted her head and their eyes met. His hand disengaged from her hair, the other from her waist. As it did, his grazed her right hip before they faced each other again. Her hands by hers, his on his side.
He returned her gaze with a furrowed brow, a stubborn tug around his eyes, the corners of his mouth drawn down in a closed manner.
Zelda continued to speak. She pointed to his house.
"You already have a house here. Why did you buy it? Why, if there isn't at least a tiny spark in you, hoping for a life like this?"
He looked at her so strangely that she went cold, thinking she had gotten through to him. She was right. He wanted a life like that.
He opened his mouth, but then closed it again. Something in his gaze darkened, his expression still closed.
"A family. Children," Zelda continued. Her voice had taken on a rough sound. She couldn't even imagine what it would be like to lose him. But she'd rather lose him to a happy, peaceful life outside the castle than to a violent death.
The words, few as they were, seemed to be like a cue to him.
His shoulders tensed and he straightened.
His eyes were sharp and alert as he searched her face, his gaze restless. Something in his eyes flickered and his breathing quickened.
Zelda read from this reaction, so intense in comparison to his usual neutrality , the correctness of her suspicions.
And it hurt. It hurt so much.
But she wanted this for him.
She desired for him to have everything he wanted. Even if it would tear her heart to ribbons.
She lifted her shoulders uncertainly.
"You can have a life like that, if you want. With Paya, for example, if that's what you want. But not if-"
"Paya?" he interrupted her, eyes wide. His voice sounded even harsher than Zelda's. He shook his head, bewilderment, stupefaction, almost horror on his face.
"What! Paya? What are you talking about? Where is this coming from?!"
The stupefaction disappeared and was replaced by outrage. His brow furrowed angrily, his eyes beginning to shine again in that haunting way.
"If you refuse my oath, I'll deal with it, but stop trying to pawn me off to random women. This is...this is-"
He was really upset. His breathing was heavy and the lines around his mouth stood out even paler.
Getting upset like this couldn't be good for him.
Hectically, Zelda raised her hands, a ridiculous attempt to calm him down. As if he were a horse that just needed a little patting.
But Zelda was worried about his ribs and all the other injuries he had sustained.
She also had to explain that she didn't want to give him away as if he were a toy that had become superfluous. Had she expressed herself in such a misleading way?
Could that be concluded from her words?
How could he possibly believe that.
"Link, no, stop it," she interrupted him as he started to speak.
"You've got this all wrong. I-I just want you to think about it. Hypothetically. You probably never have. And before you swear a new oath in such a hurry, I want you to be completely sure you want to give up on a normal life again."
He listened to her, but his face was hidden behind a dark cloud, or so it seemed. There was definite aversion in his eyes, and something else that Zelda interpreted as pain. No wonder, with his injuries.
She had to end this conversation quickly and make sure he got some rest.
"You were so young the last time you got down on your knees for Hyrule. You followed your father's path, perhaps you were aware of the extent of it then. I don't know. Maybe you are now. But I need this, do you understand?"
Zelda sighed.
"I need to make this request so I can be sure I haven't taken something away from you that maybe you didn't know you wanted. I will accept your oath when I know you have given it serious thought. I promise, I will not refuse. Of course I won't. How can you possibly believe that?"
Some of the tension had gone out of his posture.
But the hollows around his mouth and the wrinkles on his forehead had remained. He looked serious and grown up. Much more grown up than she felt, and for the first time, Zelda really realized that he had become a man.
He was no longer the young boy who had been her knight back then. The young hero with the holy sword.
He was also no longer the hero who had awakened from a hundred years of sleep.
Not the one who had defeated Ganon in battle.
He was the Link who now stood here before her. Years older and richer in difficulties that had nothing glorious or shiny about them.
Building a crumbling kingdom was hardly glamorous.
And it had made him hard in a whole new way.
"This is absurd, Zelda," he said seriously. He sounded calm, nothing fanatical, no heat left in his voice, just unmistakable determination. This was the Link who could convince anyone of anything. The one who discussed issues with emissaries from the other realms and convinced Landa to abandon his enterprise to rebuild Hyrule instead.
"Listen to me. Don't accept my vow if you don't want to, but I don't need to think about it. I don't need to because I know. I know what I want. I want you - I mean, I choose you. I belong by your side. I don't need anything else."
Zelda bit her lip. She wanted to believe him. But her stupid heart had started beating way too fast again at his words, because her stupid head wanted to hear something different than he had offered.
I want you.
He hadn't meant it that way.
"You can't know if you've never thought about it," Zelda replied with something like desperation in her voice. They were beginning to go around in circles.
"That's not-," he broke off and fell silent. He pressed his lips together. Frustration spoke from every inch of his body.
"Zelda, I-I don't want anything else," he finally began in a raspy voice. He sounded tired and impatient.
"I'm happy. Just the way it is."
His last words broke something inside her. The way it is. As your guard, as your partner. But nothing more.
Just the way it is.
Why it hurt so much to hear that, Zelda herself didn't understand. After all, it was what they had lived for the last few years.
Never more.
But she wanted more. That was the problem.
"I don't want to talk about it any more," she said in a shrill voice. She was on the verge of losing her composure. And then what would happen...
So she played her trump card. Later she would hate herself for it. Now she couldn't think of anything else to get out of this situation.
"It's... it's not appropriate, Link."
The effect was obvious and immediate.
Utter silence ensued. Even the Restless Crickets stopped chirping.
Link looked as if she had struck him.
Shocked, frozen, stunned.
"My apologies, Princess," he finally said. Stiff and cool and hard as stone.
This was Link as she had first met him. Hidden under an infinite number of layers of control. He didn't avert his eyes, but it looked like he was seeing right through her.
She had hurt him. Wonderful. Just... damnation…
Inwardly, Zelda slapped herself in the face. And again. She searched for words that would make up for it, but found none.
"Link," she began hesitantly, but he turned away from her.
"We should go inside," he said tonelessly. "You must be hungry, and tired."
Her chest heaved in a deep sigh.
She would make it up to him. Tomorrow. She would explain to him...
Yes, what? What would she explain to him?
That she had been in love with him since she was sixteen and the thought that he saw in her only the princess for whom he would sacrifice his life out of a sense of honour, but nevertheless could never love?
That it was hard for her to bear, to listen to him say that, but that this wasn't his fault?
She couldn't tell him that.
But she would make it up to him.
Somehow.
"All right," Zelda muttered feebly, following him slowly.
At least now he would really think about her words.
~ mit Feuer gemalt