Zelda had seen Link leave the house to wait outside for Mipha. She'd heard Urbosa and Nabooru laughing with Riju in the next room. She'd even interacted with Mipha when she came back to clean her wounds, but otherwise, Zelda found herself in a near trance for most of that night.
She'd had three more doses of potion that day, and slept through the night, grateful for the bed on solid ground rather than the rocking ship. Her sleep was filled with dreams that she lost the moment she woke up, and her eyes were tired, as if she couldn't get enough rest to make up for her time since her seasickness aboard The Wanderlust prevented her from acquiring much of it in the first place.
It was still mostly dark outside the window, only the slightest hint that the sun would be rising beyond the trees, when she finally woke her up from her rest. She stirred and tugged the blanket up to her chin, reveling in the closeness and the way she snuggled up to it.
There was the faintest sound of a morning bird chirping away outside the windowsill, and Zelda's eyes cracked open, expecting to see the bright white walls of her room back home, the vaulted ceilings and engraved designs carved into the wood. There were twenty-six ridges on the pillar by her bed, a small crack in the wall behind her headboard from one particularly stressful day when she'd thrown herself forcefully into the mattress, and a see-through room divider that provided her with a modicum of privacy when she changed.
But she wasn't there.
The room was brown wood, like trees had been stripped of their bark just to create the house, rather than her painted perfection. The fabric of the blanket was a rough and used linen, light with a chill rather than her woven quilt and fine sheets back home.
She sat up and looked around, running her hand slowly over everything she could, just to be sure this was real, that she hadn't conjured this nightmare from the depths of her mind. But the scratchy fabric on her chin and the imperfect boards on the wall slid along her hand in a way no dream could replicate.
She was, unfortunately, not dreaming.
Pulling the blanket up higher to stop her sudden shivering despite the familiar crackle and heat of the fireplace, the scratchy fabric against her chin was surprisingly comforting. It grounded her in this dystopian present she'd been forced into. For all her yearning for Hyrule, if she was truly here, she was not going to lose herself to her thoughts, potentially missing something she could have used to get home while lost in her longing.
Though, no amount of pretending could stop the hurt she felt when she realized that her old room that had probably been reassigned already.
If she were to go back to Hyrule, there would be nowhere for her to go.
Thankfully, her stomach refused to let her thoughts linger too long. She hadn't realized just how much time had passed since she'd actually eaten anything, but the loud gurgling noise of her stomach was more than eager to remind her. She was grateful she was alone, as she feared it might have echoed loudly off the walls of the room.
Fear?
Her head fell into her hands as everything replayed in her mind once again. Seeing that man's face with only a knife between them; that was fear. Fear that her stomach might make a loud noise? She didn't realize just how well she had it back home until the thought crossed her mind.
Her throat was still sore and tender to the touch. She needed to get up now that the potions had all worn off. They'd been effective at keeping her bedridden the day before, but she needed to stretch her legs. She needed to face the outdoors. She needed to face them.
Sliding out of the warm bed, despite the heat in the air, Zelda felt a brief chill when her bare foot touched the ground. The room was so familiar for her time in it the night before, and yet at the same time, it was the room of a stranger. A few hours of sleep hadn't tricked her into forgetting her situation. The blanket and the fire weren't enough for her to indefinitely pretend that she was back home in Hyrule, a home she'd never go back to as it was anyway, considering her move to Windfall. She was still just a stranger in a strange world.
The door to her room had been left open a crack, and Zelda peeked out. She hadn't gotten a look around before, but now she could see a dining table, a hearth, and a wall that cut off the rest of her view. But leaning back in one of the chairs at the table with their feet kicked up and his long jacket covering him like a blanket was Link.
His eyes were closed, his arms crossed, and he looked peaceful.
But almost as if he sensed her presence—or perhaps he'd never truly fallen asleep at all—his eyes opened, and he turned to her.
Link blinked a few times before his eyes swept down Zelda's body. She followed his gaze, and then hastily backed into the room, extremely self-conscious of what she wore. She was only in her shift.
Crossing her arms, she ran over to the bed, moving the covers around, poked through the drawers and only found men's clothes. She checked on the floor and even under the bed. There was nothing for her to wear; no robe, no sign of her clothes that she'd come in with. Nothing.
Had they been truly ruined in the struggle? She knew they'd torn, and there'd been blood on them, and that Nabooru washed them, but where were they? She couldn't go out there in just her shift without a blanket or a robe to cover her. And judging by the length and quality of the blankets on her bed, they wouldn't do the job.
She heard Link clear his throat.
"Mr. Woods! Get out of this room while—"
Spinning to the doorway to yell at him, she froze when she saw only his hand in the room. His head was hidden outside the doorframe, unable to see her. And in his hand was his jacket.
"I believe Nabooru took your things. Use this until Urbosa or Nabooru wakes up and you can borrow something of theirs," he explained, shaking his hand so the coat made noise, almost in case she hadn't seen him yet.
She took a few hesitant steps toward him, staring at the black coat in his hand. It was long, and would cover almost to her knees, certainly enough for her to feel modestly covered.
Still, she bit her lip as she silently debated her predicament. What was worse: sitting in public in nothing but her nightclothes, or wearing this thing? They couldn't have given her a robe? Or better yet, they could have just given her her tattered, bloody clothes back. She'd gladly choose blood over this.
It was simply a series of unthreatening pieces of fabric stitched together into a jacket. But how many different lines of inappropriate behavior did this cross?
This was another person's jacket.
A man's.
A pirate's.
Link's.
Her hesitation lingered, and Link adjusted his arm patiently.
"It won't convert you to piracy, Miss Nohansen. It's a coat."
She debated simply closing the door and waiting it out under the blankets of her bed until someone fetched her clothes for her, but something about that felt like playing into their expectations. Link didn't expect her to take the jacket, he expected her to close the door, didn't he?
Something took hold of her, and her fingers closed around the collar, taking it in her grasp. "I was simply debating if the stench was worth it."
She could hear him chuckle softly before his footsteps crossed the span of the next room. Zelda was tempted to peek out the door to see where he'd gone specifically, but she realized it was an excuse to put this off.
Zelda sighed and slid her arms into the sleeves. She was far more petite than Link, and the sleeves hung heavily against her shoulders, pushing down on her with the weight of it. There was no way this thing could be comfortable for any significant span of time.
Doing up a few buttons at the top for modesty, she tugged the rest of the front shut, crossing her arms over it to secure it closed. She wasn't going to do up every button and look like she'd gotten herself comfortable in his coat. His dirty, heavy, itchy coat.
It was probably infested with sand fleas. And there was no way on the Goddess' earth that she'd put her hands in those pockets after knowing the floor it had been on, in the building it had been in, with the people it had been around, and on this lecher of a man. She'd likely catch a disease and find herself without a hand. The secret to life could be in there, and she wasn't going to chance it.
The island was hot, but Link's jacket was warm in a different way. Sure, it was literally warm. The material, and the fact that he'd been using it as a blanket all night had it already containing remanent body heat, but it was a different warmth, and she tried to sort through her scrambled thoughts, past the pain that lingered all over her body still, to figure out what this might be.
It was akin to embarrassment. She didn't want to seem weak by taking it off and going back into bed to hide away. But now she felt a different kind of weakness, and this one came from within. One that had her hesitating to stand tall and unashamed. She was concerned that someone she knew would see her, as silly as that was. It was engrained in her. And worse, she was afraid the Goddess would see her.
But the pirates and the Goddess would all see her, and she needed to decide whether to toss the coat back outside the door and climb into bed, or to pretend the coat wasn't weighing her down in any way.
It didn't help her growing fascination with the pirates in general that the fabric smelled like salt water and grass, as Link did.
She took a deep breath and headed outside the room, crossing past the table to Link's side at a large window he'd been staring out of. Clinging to the fabric of his coat like it was a life raft, her eyes darted around and noted the path, and the direction from the rising sun that the little house would be if she decided to try to run again.
Link's eyes darted to the side, and he visibly swallowed before letting out a heavy breath. "Are you in pain today?"
Zelda's fingers inched up the row of buttons until they brushed the tender skin against her throat. It was still hurting, and she gingerly touched sore spots on her face, wincing as she did. She could feel the skin was rough from one of her cuts, and when she pressed in, parts of her face throbbed. She was glad she hadn't glanced in a mirror; there was no way there weren't hideously noticeable bruises all over her.
Running her hand through her tangled hair, she used her fingers to get some larger knots out, but stopped to steady herself against the window frame when she felt a remnant bout of dizziness overtake her.
Link watched her for a moment, likely to see if she was about to fall, before pointing quickly and vaguely at her face. "It doesn't look too bad. Well, it does, but it could look worse. Mipha stocked up on potions for you on the beach that should help. We're heading back soon."
She pulled her arms tighter against herself. "Then why are you here?"
"Extra security."
"For me? Or to stop me?"
Link chuckled and shrugged. "A little of both."
"You won't succeed. Not regarding any of it."
"Then you'll just keep me on my toes, Miss Nohansen. It's not a bad thing to be gifted a challenge."
Resisting the urge to scoff, Zelda let her fingers run lightly against the skin on her throat again and again. "I'm hardly a challenge, am I?" She didn't direct it to Link, instead thinking of how she'd shot that man and he'd kept coming. She'd stabbed him, and he kept coming. She'd hit him, punched, kicked, flailed, fallen. None of it had done a thing in the end. If Urbosa hadn't shown up, she might be dead.
"Any Hylian who can figure out a gun as fast as you did is worthy of being a challenge," he said anyway, grinning before heading around her to his things on the table; his belt, boots, weapons, and bandana all ended up back on his person very quickly.
As he did, she turned back towards the window to hide a small smile. Though it was vile and went against everything she'd been taught, hearing a compliment on her abilities from a hardened pirate had her feeling a prideful flutter in her chest.
One that she immediately tried to push away.
The Goddess was selfless, and Her children should not indulge in prideful actions that benefit only the self.
With a roll of her eyes, Zelda sat down and rested her chin in her hand, sighing heavily. She liked that feeling. Why was it that everything that made her feel good disgusted the Goddess?
"Is Paya safe?" she asked instead.
"She is."
Zelda waited for more of an elaboration, but he didn't offer any. Instead, Link's eyes rested on her a little more intently, on his coat, really. Zelda turned away, hoping that if she pretended she didn't notice his obnoxiously focused attention, he'd simply stop looking. But she could feel the burn of his eyes boring into her.
"What?" she finally snapped.
He smirked, smug in some thought that passed his mind before speaking. "You were too conspicuous yesterday. Fine fabrics like your dress is made of are like begging for a second look. And we want you to fly as far under everyone's noses as you can while here. Not that you have been."
Zelda refused to dignify that with an answer.
Link, however, cleared his throat. "I also owe you for the unintentional trauma I may have put you through. We can make a detour through town later, and I'll buy you an outfit of your choice. Something that doesn't make you stand out nearly as much as you already do."
"Mr. Woods, please. I don't find your flattery charming," she chastised.
"You stand out as an outsider, I meant. You were hardly dressed as we are. I'm not always flirting with you, Miss Nohansen. Only sometimes. And how does a 'good Hylian' even know what flirting sounds like?"
She could tell he wasn't really asking. He was teasing her. And she had no intention of rising to his bait.
There was one quirk that Zelda had noticed about Link, one that she found infuriating: whenever she asked him a question, he'd answer tersely and without elaboration, but when he was talking, he couldn't find it in himself to shut up.
"Besides, the Captain ordered me to buy you something suitable to wear so we don't have any repeat incidents. So, it is in fact Captain Urbosa's flattery that you don't find charming."
Zelda shot him a flat look before turning her attention back to the scenery outside the window.
"I am surprised. After—I don't even know how many—years in the misery of Hyrule, you might think you'd be a little more susceptible to a compliment or two."
"Do you simply enjoy the sound of your own voice?" she snapped once again.
Link grinned. "I'll take that as a compliment on my Goddess-given, charming voice, then. Thank you."
Her eyes quickly darted from his exposed tattoo to the chain that hid the Goddess' symbol just below the fabric. How could he still use the Goddess' name? How could he wear her symbol on his defiled skin?
The Goddess frowned on everything he stood for. So how did She not take action against him and the others here?
And worst of all, why was the Goddess allowing Zelda's path to so deviate from Her plan.
The Goddess suffered, so one shows reverence through silence and acceptance. One does not fight the path that is laid out by the Goddess, through marriage, through solitude, through priesthood—it didn't matter; it was laid out to be followed. And Zelda's path was to marry Lieutenant Rivan. It was to stand beside her father on Windfall, an island committed to the extermination of piracy, as was Hyrule.
For once, Zelda was beyond grateful that Paya was not present at all. Because Zelda felt a pull, and before she could stop herself, she'd indulged in her curiosity with a question far too personal to be considered polite.
"Why do you know of the Goddess? You speak of Her, and you know her rules, you even wear her symbol. How… how can you be a pirate and still believe?"
"I've managed my expectations," he breathed, fiddling with the chain on his neck. "I expect nothing and get nothing in return."
"Then why wear her symbol all the time?"
Link turned his arm a few times, inspecting it before pointing to a tattoo. Zelda found herself on her feet, crossing the room so she could see. It was of the Goddess holding her sacred symbol.
"That's…" Zelda said, feeling herself tense up immediately. "Th-that's…"
"I believe the word you're looking for is blasphemy, Miss Nohansen."
"W-why? Defiling your skin with her symbol? Sure, the Goddess and I aren't on good terms at the moment, but even still!"
Leaning back, Link got comfortable once more. "You and I view Her differently. To me, to most of the Goddess-followers on this island, she's a far more understanding deity who's stories were misinterpreted in translation. Because a benevolent god would never strike her children when they lost their way. That god would never abandon their people, like those who chose piracy. No, She must be someone better than all that."
"What if you're wrong?"
"What if you're wrong?"
Zelda scoffed. "I won't let this conversation become a circle of questions."
"Fair enough, I suppose."
But Zelda didn't back away, another question clear on the front of her mind, and apparently, on her face.
"Ask away," he said, gesturing to the seat across from him.
She didn't take it, but she did rest her hands on the back of it, her fingers tapping the wood as she mustered up her nerve to push past the embarrassment that crept back up. "I just… I don't understand. You… you and…"
She trailed off and waved her hand vaguely. The visual in her mind took over, and she couldn't look at Link to elaborate. But he had an imagination. He'd figure it out.
"Me and? Me and Urbosa? Me and Revali? Me and Ash—" he closed his eyes and pointed to her. "Me and Shad."
"Yes. You two cannot have children, which is the Goddess' mandate. So why… why even bother, I suppose?"
That wretched smile appeared on his face again, the one that was sympathetic to her, but in the way one explains a complicated matter to a child. "I have no intention of marrying Shad, nor Ashai. There are others. And it's because I enjoy it. It's really that simple."
"That's—"
"Link! You stayed!" a small voice shouted, causing Zelda to spin quickly, dragging the chair in front of her as a barricade before she could register anything else about it. It was loud enough that Zelda was sure Nabooru and Urbosa would wake up if they hadn't already. And then Riju ran to Link at full speed, leaving him to catch her as he spun her around before tightly holding her up in his arms.
"I did!" he laughed, readjusting her in his grip. "Damn, you got tall, kid."
"Or maybe you just got short!" she said, sticking out her tongue.
"Maybe I did!" he whispered, making a show of looking at his feet.
Riju tightened her arms around Link's neck, and he let out a choked sound. "I'm heading back out soon. But I'll probably have a lot of trips back and forth while we're docked."
"Yippee!" Riju squealed, throwing her head back.
Urbosa's door opened, and both she and Nabooru trudged out, both of them scanning the room for danger before stopping on their daughter. "Someone's awake."
"Link stayed!"
"Yes, Little Bird, I am aware of that," Urbosa chuckled, patting Link's shoulder and Riju's back before winking at them.
Link glanced at Urbosa where she moved to lean comfortably on the doorframe.
Nabooru tsked and held her hands out for Riju to come to her. "Get down Riju. You're choking Link."
"But I never get to see him!" she whined, hugging him tighter. "I'm not bothering you, right?"
He moved her arms so they weren't on his neck. "No, you're good, kid."
Zelda watched, highly intrigued at the scene before her. How was any of this even possible?
There was such a stark contrast between his clothes, the dirt on his hands, the tattoos, the scars, all of it, and the warm smile on his face as he held a child who wasn't afraid of any of it. How was this little girl not afraid? He had a pistol and a sword attached to his belt. Her own mother had the same.
Urbosa and Nabooru sighed, content to let Link do whatever he wanted. If he wanted to be bothered, that was on him. So they turned their attention to Zelda. "Did the potion work to ease your pain?"
"A bit," Zelda admitted.
"What?" Riju shouted.
Link winced. "Ow! Right in my ear…"
Nabooru chuckled. "Riju, love, we're talking to Miss Zelda. Her throat hurts her, so she has to whisper."
Urbosa's eyes scanned Zelda who clutched the jacket tightly across her chest as she stood in the corner of the room, watching everything unfold from her relative safety. Urbosa shook her head and scoffed while she finally pried her child's arms away from him, setting her on the floor. "Oh Link. You didn't do anything, right?"
"What?"
Urbosa urged Riju towards Nabooru before making a motion with a fake jacket and pointing at Zelda.
"What? No! Goddess, no! Give her more credit than that, if not me," he scoffed, glancing up at Zelda. This time, there was no mistaking the red creeping up his neck. "You left her without anything to wear."
"Because Nabooru is going to lend her clothes. She's not going out in that parade of a dress."
Link rolled his eyes. "Well, I said I'd get her something to make up for… for… yesterday." His eyes slid from Riju to Urbosa.
"What happened yesterday that you need to make up for?" Riju asked innocently.
There was no way that Link couldn't see Zelda's face growing redder by the second as well. "For…" he wracked his brain. "For upsetting her. About… something."
"Oh!" Riju said, easily appeased. Then, she bounded to Zelda. "Hi," she said, a wide smile on her little face. "Momma said to call you Miss Zelda, but yesterday, Link was calling you Miss Nohan…Nohansen? What do I call you?"
Zelda's lip trembled. She wasn't afraid of the little girl, but she was beginning to feel overwhelmed, especially when she had a hard time disliking this little girl simply on principle. But that was what Zelda needed to do to feel safe. She needed to dislike and distrust them all, no matter how old.
"I'll go with Miss Zelda," Riju said when Zelda didn't answer. "It's easier to say." She disappeared from the doorway for a few moments before reappearing. "I'll set a place for you at the table for breakfast! We're having… I don't know what we're having."
"I…"
"Mommy always says you have to eat. And she was saying that you are weak. When I'm weak, I need to eat too. So come on."
Zelda eyed both Nabooru and Urbosa in annoyance, and Nabooru raised her brows, as if to say that there was nothing she felt embarrassed to be caught saying.
"We can leave right after," Link said, rubbing his eye before rustling Riju's hair.
Zelda waved the jacket slightly at Urbosa. "I have nothing appropriate to leave this place in. I certainly can't leave in just his jacket."
"You could, you know," he said smoothly.
Zelda hugged it closer to herself and glared at Link. Goddess, she wasn't even surprised by that comment.
"Link!" Urbosa chastised.
"Sorry," he snorted. "Force of habit."
Nabooru shook her head in exasperation and brushed past him to head back into her room, but after a few moments, she returned with a pile of folded clothes and handed them to Zelda. "Here. They might not fit you, but it will do for now. At least you can get out of his jacket."
"Thank you," Zelda said automatically, tucking them against her to keep the jacket closed. And then she ducked into her room, all too aware of four pairs of eyes on her as she closed the door.
She pressed her back against the wood and let out a deep, shaky breath.
"I'm going down to the beach," Urbosa said behind the door. "I trust you both with her. I'll meet you there, Link."
"Already?" Riju whined.
Zelda could hear Urbosa strain, and she imagined that she may have picked the girl off the ground.
"Yes, Little Bird. I'm sorry. I promise I'll be home soon, though."
Zelda set the pile down on the bed and peeled Link's coat off of her, tossing it away from her onto the bed. She rubbed her arms with the new chill and to get any remaining scent of piracy off of her.
From the size of the clothes, Zelda realized that she was never going to fit in them comfortably for long. Had the clothes been Urbosa's, she figured they'd be too big. But Nabooru was shorter, and more lean, but had muscles and was defined in a way that Zelda hadn't really seen before. In truth, Link's clothes might have been the closest fit.
Her shift was fine; there was no point changing that. But Zelda braced herself as she pulled the corset on. Though she was grateful it was a front-laced one that she could do up herself, it didn't help as the bone dug into her skin from the vast size difference between her and Nabooru, leaving her to wonder if she was bleeding.
Short, deep breaths.
With the tighter draw, she was able to slide into the dress itself that she'd been provided with far greater ease than otherwise, but the hem was far up on Zelda's ankle, and the stays were too high for relief.
Though Zelda was used to wearing uncomfortable clothing for her life as Governor's daughter, wearing ill-fitting ones was far worse.
"Can I braid your hair, Link?" Riju asked loudly, snapping Zelda to attention as the girl's voice cut through the silence.
Zelda pushed the door open and held her stomach as she watched Link grimace and grab a long strand of his straggly hair, examining it. "I think there's still a braid from last time you did it. Maybe later." And then his eyes darted up to Zelda's, and he grinned, mischievous and bright. "But…"
Zelda narrowed her eyes at him, suspicious and uncomfortable all at once.
Riju lit up as she took in the long, unruly hair that Zelda sported. "Can I, Mommy?"
Nabooru shrugged. "It's not my hair. Ask the lady, and don't be mad if she says no."
With bright eyes, Riju ran up to Zelda, pleading, hands clasped, innocent. "Please, Miss Zelda? I just want to braid it out of the way for you."
Zelda wasn't used to dealing with children often, but the little girl was an entirely different species in her eyes. Growing up with piracy in her life, this girl was forward, outspoken, fearless of strangers. She was excited and alive, and her mothers didn't chastise her for speaking, or for curiosity. In some ways, this little girl was everything Zelda wished she'd been able to be.
How could she deny someone that? She wasn't sure how to say no even if she wanted to. "Y-yes? It's a bit of a mess though."
"I'll get a brush!"
Nabooru offered Zelda a passive smile and handed her a piece of bread with a spread of some kind on it. "Eat it all up while she works, and then we can go."
Riju ran out as fast as she could before gesturing for Zelda to sit in the nearest chair so she could stand behind.
But Zelda wasn't quite ready to entertain a child. "Are we safe here? I realize I caused… problems." It was almost instinctual to slide around the topic, especially with Riju present.
Link chuckled. "A few."
"Well, that's hardly by any fault of my own. Perhaps don't kidnap people, next time."
"I'll keep it in mind, Miss Nohansen."
"Are you kidnapped?" Riju asked, far too pleasant.
"Yes," Zelda said quickly.
Nabooru rolled her eyes and ran a hand gently through Riju's hair. "They are returning her to her father for a reward. You know that's how Momma gives us a safe place to sleep and food to eat when she goes away."
"Like you did with the treasure?"
Zelda tried to look between them, but Riju had her head still, and she was left just looking at Nabooru.
Nabooru smiled wider and bopped the girl's nose. "Yes, Little Bird. Like I did with our treasure." And that had satisfied Riju enough that the brush was going through Zelda's long tangles with a bit too much force once more. "To answer you, we're situated far from the beach for a reason, so we should remain unbothered here."
"We built this house when I was real little," Riju said, almost proudly. "I like all the rooms I got. You slept in the guest room!"
Zelda tried to smile, but it was forced and pained both from the pull on her hair, the stabbing in her stomach, and her raw throat. This was just an innocent child. She was not a pirate, and she deserved a response. "I saw all your dolls in there."
"Yeah, I use it as a playroom most of the time!"
"I saw clothes too?"
"Mine," Link answered, his eyes glistening. "That's where I often sleep when we're ashore."
An exasperated sigh escaped Zelda's lips, and suddenly, the bed she'd slept in seemed completely different, less comfortable in her mind, like her corset, and itchy like his coat. "Of course it is."
"Link isn't the only one who stays here. My friend Collette is here too sometimes! But usually, she just stays in my room with me because that's more fun. She's my best friend! Mommy doesn't let me walk to her house alone though, because she lives too far away."
"Is she your age?"
"Mhmm."
Zelda glanced out the window. Children on a pirate island. Not just a fluke with Riju. This was a place where pirates and children grew up fully immersed in a lawless world. Of course the walk wouldn't be safe surrounded by the likes of the monsters on the beach.
The brush pulled at some of the tangles in her hair several times until they were freed, and then Riju's fingers took several strands of Zelda's hair and began to braid them together.
"Collette's daddy is farmer, so he brings us all kinds of foods from the farm and then he cooks them for us. But her mommy was killed, so she likes staying here with us."
"She was—" Zelda's voice trailed off, glancing at Nabooru. "Oh. I'm sorry for her, then."
"Your mommy's dead too, right?"
"Riju!" Nabooru scolded, slamming her hand down in surprise, though Zelda jumped harder and higher than Riju. "That's a bit blunt, even for you, isn't it?"
"Sorry."
"It's… it's alright. Yes. She is with the Goddess."
"Who's that?"
Zelda froze.
Captured by pirates, held hostage for ransom, threatened, thrown around, running for her life, being inside a brothel, being nearly killed.
These things were difficult. They weren't easy to swallow.
But to never have heard of the Goddess? The giver of life? The creator of all? The watchful eyes and ears of justice who suffered a horrible fate so her people could live free and honor her sacrifice? And this little girl didn't know her?
In truth, Zelda lost her breath for a moment, clutching her chest as she fought for it to come back.
"The Goddess Hylia," Zelda clarified, hoping that there was some false goddess on this little island that the girl was confused with.
Though Zelda didn't believe the Goddess held any love for her, Zelda still loved the Goddess, despite it all.
"I don't know her. Is she from Hyrule?"
With her mouth hanging open, Zelda stared up at Nabooru and Link.
Nabooru shrugged. "We don't force anything here. She knows the basics of religion, and if she wants to explore it, she can. Right Rij?"
The girl let go of Zelda's hair and stepped around to examine it from the front. When she was satisfied, she nodded. "Yep! I know."
"Mr. Woods?" Zelda tried, knowing that he at least wore the symbol of the Goddess, even if he was a lecher. He might be on her side.
He just shook his head. "She's not my daughter. They can raise her however they see fit."
"But… She's the Goddess. The creator! How do you not teach someone history?"
And at that, Nabooru began to laugh hard, causing Zelda's cheeks to flame immediately. "History? You believe a monster came up from the ground and some glowing woman fought it off? I took Hylians for fools with religion, but calling it history is far worse than I ever thought."
Zelda threw herself from her seat, stumbling backwards towards her door as she fought back a mortified expression. Not only for herself, but still stunned by what they were—or rather, weren't—teaching their children.
Her eyes flickered up, burning as she glared at Nabooru. "Is that why everyone on this Goddess-forsaken island is a thieving, lawless heathen? You have no god or goddess to answer to?"
"Were you serious?" Nabooru asked, moving around the table towards Zelda. Link stepped into her path, and Nabooru stopped. "You're brainwashed, Miss Zelda. And you want to go back to the place that keeps you enslaved in their system. I find your willingness amusing."
"And I find your inevitable descent into hell equally amusing," Zelda spat back.
Instead of firing another shot, Nabooru grinned. "Oh, there is someone in there. She's not just a shell."
"No, I am not a shell. I am a person."
"Hardly."
Zelda glanced at Link, where he was watching her with pitying eyes. Despite his twisted beliefs and the look of sympathy in his eyes, Link didn't see Zelda as a person either. As someone who believed so strongly in the Goddess, corrupt and cruel though She could be, Zelda longed more for Hyrule and her rules than ever before.
Empty, moldable shell. Cargo. A means to an end. Zelda was nothing to any of these people.
They'd taken her from her way home. They took her sense of security and cast it aside for their norm of vigilance. They took her innocence, exposing her to things the Goddess would never allow in her mind otherwise. They'd even taken her clothes, one of the last few threads to her home.
She pressed her hand against the corset as she felt her eyes well up. "Excuse me," she said, pushing her way back to the room. "I need to adjust this." She wasn't going to let them know she needed a moment. A moment of air, and to breathe.
When the door clicked closed, Zelda sagged into the wooden frame and felt the first few tears spill over her cheeks, warm and noticeable even as she was trapped inside her mind.
Turning to the glass window where her reflection was cast, she didn't recognize herself. Braided hair was uncommon for her, ill fitting clothes weren't ideal, bruises and dark circles marred her face. There were worry lines from her brow that she couldn't seem to relax.
They'd molded her, and she'd let them.
She was a shell.
Zelda could still remember the deku gardens that she'd meander through with Mila, and the hedge mazes that they'd laugh their way through just a yard over. Zelda loved the hedge maze most of all. There was something beautiful about being lost in a safe place.
Now, all Zelda could think of was stumbling through the forest, tripping over roots and overgrowth. Her finger slid along the mark on her cheek again, and she flinched as she practically felt the branch scrape her skin.
In the gardens, she'd trip often, running too fast with Mila in tow, covering their mouths to stifle their obnoxious, frowned on laughter. If they were caught, they'd feel the wrath of a scolding, but they managed to learn the maze well enough to make it through free from watching eyes. She'd been caught when she skidded into the grass one day, staining her fine dress, and cutting her palm on a rock.
But this? This was no frolicking injury, no quiet rebellion with a friend. Now, the marks in her tattered dress were red with blood, and when she'd hit the ground last, there had been a pirate hovering over her, a knife brandished in his hand ready to strike without remorse simply because of who she was.
She was her father's daughter.
She was Rivan's fiancée.
She was the pirates' prisoner.
Unable to summon even a scrap of the joy that she'd once felt, she covered her eyes with her hands just so she could feel the comfort of someone cradling her, even if that someone was herself.
"Maybe we just need to get out of this fucking house," Link said on the other side of the door.
Zelda let her head rest for a while with her ear pressed to the wood.
"Hey!" Riju shouted in her characteristically loud voice, "Language!"
Link let out an overly dramatic sigh. "We just need to get out of this house. Sorry."
"Better. I want to come buy clothes too! Take me with you!"
There was a tense silence, and Zelda wondered whether anyone was looking at each other, or if it were truly as uncomfortable as it sounded. "I think your mom wants you to stay here."
Nabooru, with, a smirk in her voice, smug and superior, said, "No, I think you could use something new. We'll both come with you."
"Nabooru…"
"No, Link. This is my family, and her presence here is endangering them. I trust you all with my life. But I trust no one but Urbosa and myself with Riju's."
"The beach is no place for Rij."
Zelda let out a breath that warmed her hand. She closed her eyes so she could better hear what was being said.
"I'll bring her back home. I just don't want another incident in the market. Letting Zelda stay here once was a precaution, but twice is a risk."
"It's safer now. Urbosa and I dealt with both crews. We'll be good. But you really still shouldn't bring Riju there. It doesn't matter if—"
Zelda pushed away. A risk. An incident. More things that she apparently was.
Impa would always tell her that her soul was at risk whenever Zelda did anything deemed inappropriate. But Zelda had come to realize that the Goddess demanded a disproportionate amount from her, as opposed to a street beggar.
She'd become a pawn for the Goddess to move about as she pleased, a way for the higher-ups to mold their perfect fighter. She would be the best host, learn the finest skills, become glorious at communication. And in many of those ways, she was already up there. But what good did knowing the piano do her now?
For all the shaping and trimming they'd done to make her into a pristine topiary, she was once again an empty canvas for them to draw on.
The pirates, it seemed, knew one thing Zelda hadn't realized until the moment she'd seen herself in the glass once again.
They knew her worth.
And it was monetary.
Needing a deep breath, Zelda fixed herself up and walked briskly from the room, nodding once as she passed Link to acknowledge that she was ready to leave whenever.
"Miss Nohansen?" he asked, his eyes fixed hard on hers until they followed a warm line down her cheek.
She watched his hand twitch, and she backed away. "Is it safe for me to go to the beach with you? My father has left a bad taste in many mouths, and I'd rather not expect my throat to be crushed at any moment."
"That won't happen. I assure you, your identity has been taken care of, and only our crew knows who you are. Stick with us, and you'll stay safe."
"Because I'm your precious investment."
Link hesitated, his face contorting at her choice of words, but he finally nodded.
"Then let's just get this over with, Mr. Woods."
Walking through the streets of Outset was different this time. Zelda was out of breath by the time they reached the busy roads once again. Link and Nabooru had both offered her their hand a few times to assist her, but she'd rather fall over every upraised root and dislodged rock than take their hands willingly.
This time through the market area, Zelda wasn't being dragged by Revali, or running from Ashai. Stalls moved slowly, and she was able to look at what each artisan offered. Some were potion brewers, others were chefs. A roaring forge was near the open walls of the blacksmith's shop, and peddlers sold paintings, carvings, crafts, fabric, clothes. It was a menagerie of color and items and almost too much to look at.
For once, she could see that there might just be something remotely charming about this specific area of the island after all.
An appeal that was gone entirely as soon as she looked up from the wares to see haggard brigands with leather skin watching her too closely. Zelda could barely focus her attention on the stalls.
She felt watched, felt the eyes of pedestrians on her as they passed by. She took a step closer to the group and her hand reached into her pocket to keep hold of Revali's knife.
Hopefully, they were only seeing a girl covered with bruises, and not someone they recognized as an outsider worthy of asking questions about. Hopefully, no one knew that she and her father shared some similar features or could place her without any assistance.
Link turned to Zelda, walking backwards so he could face her. He'd donned his jacket over a fresh change from his well-worn shirt into a white shirt with brown trousers before leaving and let his hair free so it could blow around in the light breeze that cooled the otherwise warm air.
"Without your fancy Hylian dress on, you're much more inconspicuous than you were. You can breathe a bit."
She hugged her arms to herself and focused a little harder on those brushing past her. Despite the hairs standing up on the back of her neck, she couldn't spot anyone's eyes actually on her. Still, there was a great hesitation to venture into the crowd and away from the safety of the tree line behind them, still within running distance. The trees would never tell anyone who she was.
Link made a face that was far too superior for the words that followed. "Besides, my reputation is to your advantage, Miss Nohansen. No one will give you a second thought."
Overwhelmed. That was a good word that summed up what Zelda felt. With a heavy sigh, Zelda simply kept her arms crossed and tried to smile for the sake of the child with them, but her lips were heavy, twitching with effort to stay up. There were too many thoughts, questions, and emotions rushing through her head that she couldn't sort through in time to formulate any kind of actual response.
Riju held Nabooru's hand, swinging it wildly with excitement that spilled over in droves. The girl pulled Nabooru over to a market stall and grabbed at a piece of candy, though Link kept walking ahead. Zelda followed him, but watched Nabooru hand over two green rupees, leisurely catching up at her own unhurried pace.
For some time, the colors passed by in a blur, and Zelda watched her own feet take small steps around obstacles like rocks and fallen objects from their stalls.
Until a voice broke her from her trance.
"I've never met anyone from Hyrule. Does this look a lot like here, Miss Zelda?"
Riju stared up at her with her piercing green eyes, wide and excited. Her red hair had come out of its braid and strands were sticking to her forehead, though she barely seemed to notice. She looked like a puppy that had just proudly rolled around in the dirt before running up to a stranger for a treat.
Zelda did have a soft spot for eager, excitable puppies.
"No," she said quickly, shaking her head. She thought of the cobblestone streets as opposed to the worn, packed dirt. The trees were different, tall and wide, but never with fronds and a thin trunk that reached just above the tall buildings. The buildings themselves were different, made of differing materials, structurally composed in an entirely foreign way, a focus on height rather than width back home, which made room for more. Shops were always indoors, never lining the streets. No vender would ever scream from the road, begging passersby to look at their wares. "No, not at all."
"What's Hyrule like, then?" Riju asked, bouncing with excitement.
Zelda met Link's sharp eyes that were locked on them both, and he tilted his head just a fraction before understanding the plea she didn't even realize she was asking for.
"It's very different from here, Rij," he said, almost dismissively.
"You're only a few islands away though," Riju insisted, still addressing Zelda as if she'd been the one to answer. "How can they be so different from us?"
Zelda hugged her arms firmer across her chest, never able to hold tightly enough, and took a deep breath. There was no simple, easy way to describe Hyrule to a child who didn't even know who the Goddess Hylia was.
When it became clear she wasn't going to answer again, Link playfully shook Riju by the shoulders. "That can be an entirely separate world, sometimes. And a few islands is a far distance."
Zelda looked at Riju, Link, Nabooru, and the buildings around her. She looked at her clothes, and she looked inside herself.
Goddess, it was an entirely different world indeed.
"How can this place be safe to raise a child?"
"Well, Momma and I lived in Hyrule for a while. Then we came here, but I don't remember any of that."
Zelda flinched, not realizing she'd spoken loud enough for anyone to hear her. Truthfully, she thought she'd kept her thoughts inside her mind as it was.
"Riju!" Nabooru scolded
The little girl shrugged. "What?"
Zelda glanced at Link, who had moved to feign interest in a painting that leaned on the ground. He looked deep in thought, but Zelda noticed his rigid posture and the subtle turn of his neck; even in the seemingly relaxed position he was in, it alerted her to his close attention on the conversation behind him.
"You don't tell strangers our business."
"But she's not a stranger!"
"Oh, please," she hissed, ushering Riju ahead. "We're going to have to start your reading lessons again, if you think she's not a stranger. Maybe a definition or two will help."
"No!" Riju whined, dragging her feet along.
Link smirked and crossed behind Zelda. "See? I'm not the only one of us who can read."
Refusing to dignify that with an answer, Zelda kept walking, keeping her attention elsewhere. These past few days were long, and she was surprised that she could still function after it at all. She was pliant only to the bend of her legs as she kept walking.
Until she crashed into Riju in her distraction.
"Ooo! Look!"
The girl ran into the depths of a tented area that sold piles of fine fabrics. Zelda's eyes widened at the array of colors, the assortment that the likes of a Hylian store never would carry. There were bright blues and greens that reminded her of the sea and sky as well as the grass and trees. There were oranges like flame, and patterns that looked ready to reflect light should the sun hit it just right.
Her mouth dropped as she ran a hand along the finery, fingers skimming across the smooth texture of the silks. A red one in particular caught her attention, and she could imagine wearing it to an event with her father, or perhaps her fiancée, and immediately shaming them for the bright, gaudy display. She should be in pales and whites. But the image wouldn't leave her mind as she pictured a dress so scandalous, it didn't even have shoulders.
She rolled her eyes and laughed to herself. Foolish. The Goddess would likely know about her silly thoughts, and something would inevitably befall her. Perhaps a building would fall on her, with the luck she was having recently.
Still, she toyed with the hem of the red.
Link brushed up beside her, surprising her so she pulled her hand back to herself. He let out a low hum, eying the material. "With your apparent taste, I'd hate to fall victim to you at some formal event back home. You must have had many jealous eyes on you when you were around."
Zelda didn't know where her patience came from, but she didn't snap at his comment. At this point, she was resigned to simply expect it. She didn't expect to find herself answering him, though. "Hyrule hardly calls for such frivolous choices such as this. It's far too… loud."
He tapped the fabric with his finger and scoffed. "A friendly reminder: you're not in Hyrule, Miss Nohansen. We live for frivolity. Still, I thought the goal was to have you not draw attention, as hard as that may be for you. Try to find a color that makes you… less… noticeable."
In Hyrule, Zelda had learned to curb her curiosity, and to bask in the silence of acceptance. But at a stark realization, it all came out in a flood wave that felt all too good to indulge in. "Wait a moment," she said, stopping. "You just said, 'back home?' You were a proper Hylian, weren't you?"
Link gestured for her to follow him to the next stall, further from Nabooru and Riju, though still surrounded by fabric and sample dresses before shoving his hands deep into his pockets. "Born and bred mainlander, though I'm pleased to say I mostly lost the accent. Did you figure me for something else?"
"Yes. I thought you were from one of these pirate colonies. Or perhaps like Miss Mipha: from the outskirts of Hyrule, which is practically a whole other domain."
He laughed darkly, and she realized from his swaying and the lines etched in his face that she'd made him uncomfortable with this topic change.
Good. It was about time someone other than her felt ill at ease.
"Mipha and Sidon were born out there, then raised in Hyrule with their family. Even Urbosa moved into Hyrule before coming here. Of the crew, I believe I'm one of the few who was born and raised there until the day I left. There are a few others, but many more were shuffled around on other boats at sea, or moved from a backcountry to town. You and I are the true Hylians of the group."
"Don't lump me in with you."
"You're from Hyrule proper, as was I; we are thus lumped, Miss Nohansen."
"Still," she breathed, continuing through the street. Zelda only stopping briefly to admire some local pottery before moving on to the next location. Link waited for her, allowing her some exploration while keeping a watchful eye out at her side.
As the streets narrowed and grew more crowded, Nabooru held tight to Riju's hand as the little girl pulled her mother around, pointing at every little thing that caught her eye. Nabooru and Riju fell further behind, taking their time at several displayed dolls.
"When did you become embroiled in piracy?" Zelda asked suddenly, unable to satiate her interest. Demise had her now, and she was all too content to drown in her curiosity. The Goddess would understand, right? She was the patron of wisdom, after all. And wisdom might just keep her alive.
An unfamiliar look of apprehension passed over Link's features before he cleared his throat and shoved his hands deep into his pockets. "Fourteen or so. Perhaps younger, but thereabouts."
"Fourteen?" Zelda repeated, dismayed. "How… you're… how old are you now?"
"Older than fourteen."
"Well yes, I had gathered as much. And judging by your wrinkles, I'd guess you're well beyond. You've been at sea a while, haven't you?"
"Wrinkles," he scoffed. "Those are stress lines, not from aging." He glanced at her quickly. "I don't want to ask how old you are, do I? An umarried Hylian? I'm not going to want to know."
Keeping her attention off him, though she could still see him from the corner of her eye, she gave him a look that said the answer was obvious. "You shouldn't ask; it's impolite." Though she was younger by a few years, she was too similar in age to him than she cared to admit, given their vastly different experiences in life.
"I suppose I dodged that misery anyway. If I'd stayed, Goddess, I might be a father by now." Link made a mortified face as he lingered beside her.
"Are you sure you're not already?" Zelda asked dryly. While she wasn't well-educated in the subject matter, she did know the basics.
Link let out a loud, barking laugh. "To the best of my knowledge, Miss Nohansen. Goddess above, now you have me worried."
Goading him with a placating expression fixed away from his face, she could still see him smiling—perhaps surprised, or perhaps simply in shock at her topic choice.
He leaned forward into his crossed arms. "Or maybe I'd have died in that hell-hole with my arranged marriage while taking over my father's business and wearing respectable suits in town to hold stiff conversations that I couldn't care less about simply to attempt to gain some standing in society all while worshipping a sycophantic version of the Goddess that I don't agree with. Yes, there's no worry there."
"It's not as bad as you're making it sound," Zelda muttered, repeating it again and again in her mind until they felt true after the words came out aloud.
"You're right. It's worse."
She shot him a dry look, which he returned before they fell back into silence.
Zelda turned away, glancing at Nabooru and Riju down the way, thinking about Urbosa. How could someone do that to their child? To their family? Urbosa abandoned them every time she stepped on the ship. Again and again, she chose her family at sea over her own child. At least in Hyrule, children were one of the foundations of life. They were cared for as the next generation.
"My father will hang you all," Zelda breathed, a hushed promise that only Link could hear.
"That's likely," he agreed, getting comfortable where he stood.
The stall they'd stopped at was packed with dresses of very typical styles; very inconspicuous styles that she'd seen on other women. There were stripes, muted blues and pales, skirts and bodices, all of it. She ran her hand over the nearest piece thoughtfully.
"That doesn't frighten you?" Zelda asked, skeptical of his overtly positive expression. "I've seen pirates like yourself hung for far lesser crimes than kidnaping. I've seen the bodies swinging in the square and heard the crowds cheer. No one will fawn over your corpse when it's in a gibbet dangling over port for you to drown and decay."
Her hand shook as she grabbed at a corset from the pile for no reason more than to distract herself. She could still see that pirate's eyes, feel his hands on her throat. The Goddess didn't disapprove of public executions; piracy was a sin, and it was to be discouraged at any cost. Zelda would have given anything to see that man face the wrath of her father.
For a long moment, she thought Link wasn't going to answer her inquiry. He'd turned toward the street, leaning casually against a tree that was just outside the fabric of the tent with his leg and arms crossed.
"No. I've made my peace with death."
"My father will see to it that your death is anything but peaceful because you've involved me."
"I'd expect nothing less of him, from what I understand." Link smiled ruefully and turned his head slightly towards her. "And I half expect you'll be the one to hold the rope."
"Oh, so, you have a death wish? Is that why you provoke me often?" she half-teased.
This time, his smile turned genuine at her tone, an easy crinkle of his eyes alerting her to the delicate change that seemed to be a silent laugh. It irked her that she could even see such a subtlety. "I have a great fear, Miss Nohansen, but not of death; of old age."
She jerked her head back, this time in surprise. "Old age? That's most people's aspiration." Of anything he could have said, that surprised her the most.
Link just shrugged. "It would mean that I gave up on it all, quit, went home, lived a dull life, and forfeited the things and people I value most in this world. There'd be nothing of me left, and I'm not about to 'aspire' to that."
Setting down the fabric, Zelda shook her head. "That's a bleak outlook on aging."
"If you live to old age in my profession, you've either done something wrong, or done nothing at all. I'd rather die young with a well-lived life of my choosing, than die a decrepit, weak old man, unable to control so much as my bladder in my final days."
Zelda couldn't help herself, moving closer to argue. "Old age isn't always that way. My grandmother lived well into her nineties and was completely engrossed in society still, went to dinners, held all company in high levels of conversation."
"Confined to the laws and restrictions of Hyrule for nearly a century? That hardly sounds like life to me. Sounds more like hell."
"So, you never wanted a pardon, then?" Surely, someone who was at least mildly devoted to the Goddess as he was wanted the opportunity to repent.
His head shook slowly, and when he finally turned to her, his eyes had hardened to stone. "No," he said, almost wistfully. "I'm not sorry. Not for any of it."
Her soft eyes met his hard ones. She bit her lip as a sense of apprehension coursed through her. How could one not be sorry for murder? For theft? For kidnapping?
She moved back to the clothes so she could effectively ignore his face, gathering pieces that appeared to be her size. A corset, skirts, a shirt. She would look like a lady from this island, but it was better than what she wore now, and what she had before.
But his words made her feel defensive for the sake of the Goddess, if nothing else. "If you weren't born into this lifestyle, what was it that made you give up on Hylia and Her people? What made you into a remorseless killer?"
His eyes softened marginally as he stared at her. "As much as I'll indulge in most of your questions, I'd rather not share that particular tale."
"I beg your pardon. I didn't realize that—"
She stopped herself before she could finish. Apologizing had become such a knee-jerk reaction after hearing a dismissal like Link's that regardless of who he was, she felt an instant wave of shame for prodding too closely into his private life.
But this was Link. A pirate. A kidnapper. What did she care if she brought up a bad memory for him? She was living her bad memory.
Link nodded slowly, almost like he understood. Maybe in some way, he did. He'd been like her once, after all.
"Never beg for anything, Miss Nohansen."
She watched him for a long while. He took the clothes she'd gathered and put them down on a counter while pulling several rupees from a pouch at his waist.
Rupees: the root of all this evil. Without them, none of this would be happening to her.
She was a ransom, a means to a monetary end. They wanted her home, sure, but only because they wanted their money more.
They were kidnappers, thieves, murderers, and worse. All for money.
Though Zelda hadn't seen her father in years, Impa had told her stories of his heroics in bringing piracy to an end. A great man, and a better servant of the Goddess, he stopped at nothing to achieve the peace and safety that was so desperately desired throughout Hyrule and at sea. And while, sure, he made a good living as Governor, he didn't do his job for the rupees, he did it for his daughter and for Hyrule.
He would pay her ransom, and then he'd come out here and kill every last one of these Goddess-forsaken pirates.
But unlike on the beach, where she'd been surrounded by seadogs, she realized that it wasn't those gnarly, sharp-toothed horror stories she'd been surrounded by while in the streets of the town.
A young boy helped a one-legged man hobble into a building. A girl about her age sat on a balcony with an instrument, her eyes closed as she played a cheery tune and those below listened intently and sang along. There were dirty sailors in ripped clothing laughing together in a huddle—possibly the least frightening pirates she'd seen thus far.
Her eyes caught sight of Riju once again, happily playing with Nabooru. Her mother tickled her arm until Riju's loud screech was followed by breathless laughter, and she dropped something into the dirt. Nabooru picked it up, waved it in front of Riju tauntingly, and jogged away with the young girl following, letting her catch up as if she actually could outrun her.
Riju was still learning the ways of the world; how could she be at fault for what she'd been taught? And if both Urbosa and Nabooru were killed, Riju would be the one to suffer. How was that a part of the Goddess' plan?
According to Impa, her father, and the Goddess, every one of these people should be hanged.
And for the first time, a pit formed in Zelda's stomach at the thought of the old woman sitting beside the painting suddenly in chains lining up for the gallows beside the teenage boy selling pre-cut treated wood for boat repairs.
Glancing at Link, watching him fiddle with his rupees, she knew that there were some on this island with no conscious: not a parent protecting their child, not a family attempting to stay with their loved one. Just a man filled with greed and the skill to acquire it by force.
A pirate like that deserved to swing. And Zelda had a father determined to make it happen.
A/N: Oops, it's been a while, but I'm back!
Reviews: (Idk where the reviews left off because it's been a while! I'm just going to go from where it says 4 and up!) Oracle of Hylia: Yeah, she's still new to all this though hahaha! She's got her knife though! Guest#1: YES! THE TUCK EVERLASTING INTRO WAS THE INSPIRATION FOR THAT DREAM! I was soooo stuck, and had the movie on, and I was like huh, good idea! HAHAH! SO nice catch! And yeah! Zelda is struggling first and foremost! She's got to go through the whole rollercoaster unfortunately! Guest #2: I did write Alone With You! THANK YOU! I'm glad you liked it! Guest #3: Thanks! I don't plan to! Long breaks occasionally to make room for real life, but I don't plan to give this story up! Guest #4: Thanks! That's a big compliment! There are fantastic stories on here! yeahidbdjdn: Thank you! I'm glad you're enjoying! I hope to keep it up!