LOVE IN A TIME OF CALAMITY
Part 2: After Catastrophe
Chapter 10: Fallout

Another long one, though a good deal shorter than the last. Authors note at bottom.

Warnings: PTSD/trauma/nightmares

Zelda walked down the stone corridor towards the door at the end of the hall. It had taken some doing to convince Impa and Ravio that she was ready, but she couldn't wait any longer. The reasoning she'd given had been sound and tactfully presented; They had vocalized plenty of objections and concerns for her mental and emotional well being, and had she not been so focused on getting them to agree she may have found it rather touching. And so it was that, after a half hour of patient yet firm insistence, the pair had reluctantly given their blessing.

As soon as she had been well enough to leave her bed, even before the council meeting she'd wanted to go to him, but she knew it would reflect poorly in the eyes of the council if she were to ignore the professional recommendation of her physicians to put her desires first. So she'd waited as patiently as she could. Now that recovery efforts had been put into motion and she had more ample opportunity, her patience had all but evaporated. It felt to her as though some final part of the Calamity had yet to unfold, like it wasn't truly over until she saw him again. The feeling ate at her in the days since her officially sanctioned recovery. She had to see him, and it could no longer wait.

Link hadn't said a word against it when she'd voiced her desire to visit her father. He'd asked her if she was sure—she'd said resolutely and with a hint of stubbornness that yes, she was—and that was that. She'd been surprised by his easy acquiescence, though admittedly she didn't know what she'd been expecting; and truth be told she wasn't sure whether he genuinely supported her in this or whether he just didn't want to go against her on such a sensitive issue. She hoped it was the former.

In some corner in the back of her mind she marveled at how she'd come to rely on his opinion so greatly. Had he privately spoken out against her wishes, well, she may not have conceded to him but she certainly would have given his thoughts more consideration than she had Impa's. She had always been sensitive to how he saw her; before, it had been out of fear of his judgment of her, as she saw it, failures. Now… she knew she no longer feared any such harshness. They were finally within the realm of a comfortable friendship and Zelda was immensely pleased by that fact, especially with how long it had taken to get there. However, the lingering feeling of wanting to impress him somehow remained. She wasn't sure why—she had unlocked her powers and, in many ways, proved herself; but there was still a deep-seated urge for him to… something. Respect her? Admire her? She wasn't entirely sure.

In any case, she did dearly hope he supported her in this.

Her father, like herself, had been tended to in the east wing of the castle. She had been placed in a room on the north side, and her father a room on the south side. It was a small matter of walking down the busy hall to see him, but it felt like traversing the length of the castle. As the tall wooden door of his chamber loomed before her she could feel her heart begin to beat rapidly in her chest. How would it feel seeing him lying there? Would it ease her pain to know he truly was still alive, or bring her despair to see him so still and lifeless? She wasn't second-guessing her decision, but she was beginning to contemplate just how difficult it may be.

As she approached, the guard in front of the door nodded, stepping to the side without a word. Setting her hands on the door handle, she glanced anxiously over her shoulder to Link. Nodding for her to enter he moved next to the door as well, facing away as he spoke in a low voice and offering her a brief, reassuring look.

"I'll wait here, Princess."

She offered a grateful smile, thankful for his consideration. Giving him one last lingering look—he was, as always, resolute in his duty as he moved into position—she pushed on the handle and crossed the threshold into the room, turning to shut the door softly behind her.

It was much like her own room: simple by some standards, yet fully furnished and stately. Sunlight streamed through the three small glass-paned windows opposite the bed, leaving slats of warm sunlight on the ornamental rug in the center of the room.

"Your Highness!"

A startled, portly, middle-aged nurse stood before one of the arm chairs in the corner, gazing at Zelda in surprise. She quickly curtsied.

"I didn't know to expect you. Is there anything I can do for you?"

Zelda pulled on the best smile she could manage, forcing her weary posture into a more regal one as she nodded her head in greeting, hands folded before her.

"I apologize, my visit was unscheduled. I only ask—might I have a moment alone?"

The nurse folded her hands, nodding demurely, "Of course, your Highness. Please take all the time you need—I'll wait outside." She then curtsied once more before heading for the door.

Zelda gestured appreciatively with a murmured "Thank you," as the nurse walked quickly yet quietly past, shutting the door silently behind her. Then, Zelda was alone.

The curtains on this side of the four poster bed were mostly drawn, barring her father from view. Zelda approached slowly, her footsteps echoing off the high stone walls and her heart beat increasing with each step she took. Standing before the bed, she could see a rise in the sheets through the gap in the curtains. There he was, just beyond the veil. Lifting a trembling hand she drew it back, revealing her father tucked into the bed, blankets drawn to his chest and arms resting atop them at his waist.

He had been changed into a clean, simple tunic, his royal robes folded neatly on the bedside sporting rips and dark, dirty stains. His head was bare absent his crown, and gray hair lay spread across the pillow. His chest rose and fell in time with his breathing, steady and rhythmic. Had she not known better, it would look as though he were simply asleep.

Zelda gently settled herself on the edge of the bed, staring blankly at her father before her. He didn't look comatose, yet within her mind lay the stinging knowledge that if she were to try and rouse him he would be utterly unresponsive. A strange, distant sense of panic mingled with despair rose within her at the thought.

Leaning forward slowly, she extended a hand, fingertips grazing his cheek as her vision blurred with tears. She had done his to him. If only she had heeded his words, had worked harder, tried harder, maybe—maybe he wouldn't be here; maybe Revali and Mipha would still be alive. The damage to the castle and Castle Town she could easily enough dismiss. Buildings and roads could be rebuilt, but the lives that had been lost… Sitting and staring at the very real consequences of her failures created a guilt she could not rationalize or will away. Pulling her trembling hand back to rest it atop his own, she finally dared to speak.

"Father…" She tried to keep her voice steady but she could feel the cracks forming.

"Father, I am so sorry. I… even though I managed to unlock my powers, it was still too late to save you. I'm—" her words halted as a knot formed in her throat. Taking a moment to swallow it back, she paused before shakily continuing.

"The council has made me Regent."

She tried to smile as she said it, as though to make him feel more at ease with the news she bore. Silly…

"Regent, to rule in your stead until you are well."

Her smile quickly gave way, voice faint as she spoke the words she'd been unwilling to voice to anyone but Link. "But… I don't feel ready to rule."

Momentarily she pulled her hand back as the tears which had been building in her eyes fell down her cheeks. Delicately wiping her face dry, she took a steadying breath, returning her gaze to his still form.

"I need you, Papa. I have prayed to the Goddesses every day for your health, but my pleas go unanswered… just as they did before."

She squeezed his hand, a tremble passing through her limbs, "I've already lost Mother. I can't lose you too."

She gazed desperately at his still face for several moments. Despite her confession, he remained as unmoving and unresponsive as he had when she'd first approached his bedside. She didn't know what she'd been expecting; perhaps a hope-beyond-hope that the Goddesses might answer her prayers or that the presence of her powers, though she knew not their extent or how to wield them, would somehow stir him. Taking a breath and clearing her throat, she forced a tight smile as she gave his hand one last squeeze, attempting a lighter tone.

"So you have to get better, Father. You have a lot of people counting on that, myself especially."

Leaning down upon the bed, careful not to disturb his slumbering form, she laid a gentle kiss upon his forehead before slowly rising to her feet. Giving his still face one last pained glance, she pulled the curtains of the bed closed as she turned and walked away, struggling against the urge rising within her to run back and snuggle into his arms as she used to when she was a child, fearful of the dark. Stopping before the door to the hallway with her hand upon the handle she took a deep breath, closing her eyes as she tried to steady her breathing and still her trembling hands. No need to give Impa any reason to believe she'd been right. She he had wanted to do this, she had done this, and she was fine. She would be fine. Pulling her shoulders back, she pressed down on the handles and pushed the door open.

Link and the nurse stood in the hallway, Link to one side of the door with the guard on the other and the nurse standing opposite her knight, stealing unsubtle curious glances. As she stepped into the hall, both turned to her. Zelda offered the nurse a tight smile as she gestured into the room.

"Thank you. You may resume you duties."

The maid straightened herself and curtsied.

"Yes, your highness." She then walked quietly into the room, shutting the door behind her. Link didn't say a word, but eyed her with a subtly appraising look. Zelda ignored it, even though she could feel it boring into her back as she turned from him to face back down the hall. She was fine. She was… fine.

She spoke in her best calm, collected voice, despite feeling anything but. "Shall we?"

She walked forward, not waiting for a response. After a moment, Link followed silently behind.

-:-:-:-

Zelda had come to the frustrating conclusion that her desk was not nearly big enough, and this realization was worsened by the fact that it possessed only one drawer. Papers lay spread across its surface in an overlapping mess as she shuffled the pile to find the document she was in need of. In her free hand she clung desperately to another document, trying her best not to get distracted and set it on the pile she was currently sifting through and lose it as well. Travel plans for the formal visit to the Zora and Rito? No. Work orders for the gravediggers guild? No… Aha! There it was, finally, and with all three pages pinned neatly together.

Turning to the wiry gentleman standing in the center of the room she walked stiffly forward, trying her best to mask it though there was little she could about the slight creaking of her knees. Too much sitting.

"Here is the list of deceased guardsmen, as we discussed," she said, stifling the yawn which threatened to escape her, "And here is the engraving design." She then handed over the documents, gesturing to the ink sketching upon the surface of the larger paper, "Detailed instructions have been written on the back for your master's reference. If you have any questions please do not hesitate to send word."

The man eyed the documents with thoroughness before stacking them.

"Of course, your Highness, I will see that it is done to your exact specifications. Thank you for allowing master Cargill and myself to be part of such an important project."

Zelda offered a wan smile. She was glad to have been able to secure the Master Stonemason's help—he was an extremely busy Zora who came highly recommended by King Dorephan for his success with the Zora stone monuments which were recently placed throughout the Domain; but as she approached her thirty-fifth hour without sleep, she was quickly losing the energy and patience for pleasantries.

"Of course. If you have no further questions…?"

The man shook his head, tucking the papers under his arm.

"No, your Highness. You have been very thorough."

"Thank you, Mr. Wenton. You are dismissed."

He bowed low before turning sharply on his heel and heading through the door.

It had only been three days since the council meeting, since she started work on the funeral, and already she was worn. She had initially begun her planning with eagerness and vigor. She'd felt a sense of purpose in it, and had felt as though she could truly begin to honor and atone for the deaths the Calamity—her failure—had caused. The first day she'd spent mostly in her room, contemplating how to best go about acknowledging each loss individually while balancing the reality of just how many people had died, and how long she really had to plan and execute a funeral.

She'd made a quick trip to the Royal Library, which she'd been grateful to discover sustained relatively little damage aside from a section of collapsed roofing. The books had all been in good shape, and that was what mattered. She dug around for tomes on old wars and the funerals that had followed, and on monuments erected in remembrance of great losses throughout Hyrule's history. She researched traditional Hylian funeral ceremonies and the different ways in which each race and the different Hylian and human cultures scattered throughout Hyrule approached and resolved death. Finally, after several hours of scouring the library's halls, a plan had taken root in her mind. She'd returned to her chamber to jot out her ideas, and had gone to bed feeling satisfied with the day's work.

And then she'd awoken in the early morning, sweating and shaking from a dream she couldn't remember. She'd tried to return to sleep but further rest eluded her, much to her frustration. That had marked the start of her troubles.

As she began her day, began working through the logistics of her precisely laid-out plan, she'd started to realize just how hard the project would really be, and the toll it would exact on her time and energy. She'd first gone to Knight-Commander Pipit, the highest ranking military official left until Urbosa's official induction in a few days' time, to compile a list of the deceased soldiers for the monument she wanted to erect outside the castle town gates; Once she had it in hand, she found she couldn't stop herself from reading each of the 1,623 names, feeling a sinking, festering pit in her gut as each one was seared painfully into her mind.

Then she'd gone to see Winton, who had taken up residence in the castle to oversee the construction of the refugee camp south of the Sacred Grounds in Hyrule field. Together the two had compiled a list of the civilian deceased, and throughout the course of their work he had only barely held himself back from openly crying. As she left the meeting, she found herself once again reading each of the 903 names listed with laser-like intensity, feeling a little more bitterness and self-loathing with each one.

Upon returning to her room after her morning meetings to find lunch waiting for her on her bedside table, she found that as the usually appetizing scents of Chef Yeto's signature soup reached her nose, her appetite had completely disappeared, along with her good mood of the day prior. So she'd thrown herself into the minutiae of it all and the distraction had, so far, been working. Her responsibilities and the demands of the Kingdom did not cease just because she didn't feel all that great.

As the door clicked shut behind the stone mason's Hylian apprentice, Zelda let out a breath. That was one part finalized, but she was still anxiously waiting on the arrival of a Miss Teryn to coordinate the flower arrangements and the garden she hoped to have planted in time for the ceremony. Her letter predicted her arrival around mid-day, but it was nearly lunchtime and there had been no sign of her.

Zelda paced the length of her room in agitation, contemplating what to work on in the meantime; no point in allowing down time, especially when the project was so time-sensitive. There was still the civilian monument to work on, her speech, security arrangements, the buffet menu to arrange with Chefs Pimm and Yeto… She still had the special rite for the Champions to finalize, though Rola wouldn't arrive until tomorrow so that was likely best saved for then. The speech it was.

Turning in her pacing, she made for her desk, shuffling the pile of papers once more in search of the hastily scrawled first draft. Finding it, she lowered herself back into the plush wooden chair and grabbed her pen, setting to work.

It was barely a half hour later when a knock sounded at the door. Feeling her train of thought dissipate, she answered tersely, fingers tightly clenching her pen without turning.

"Yes?"

"Lunch is ready, yer highness," came Meredith's timid voice through the door. Zelda's hand came to a halt and she sighed. It really wasn't fair to be so short, Meredith had been nothing but kind; but she'd just managed to get her thoughts to flow…

With effort, Zelda removed the bite from her tone but couldn't find it in her to do more than that. "Come in."

The door swung open, Link holding it for the maid as she carried in a silver tray. His eyes lingered on the Princess momentarily before shutting the door behind her.

Zelda forced a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes as the maid entered before turning back to her desk. "You may set it on the bedside table."

"Would you like me 't take away yer breakfast, yer Highness?"

Oh, her breakfast… She'd been so preoccupied with her preparations she'd completely forgotten about it, and had forgotten that she'd forgotten about it. Not that she thought she could eat anything anyway. She answered absently and without turning.

"Oh, yes."

Attempting to focus on the words swimming before her, she struggled to pick up the thread of thought she'd lost upon Meredith's entrance. Her speech needed to be perfect, and perfect it currently was not. As she sat hunched over her desk digging little crescents into her palm with her clenched fingers as she struggled to translate her emotions into words, she didn't notice Link eying the uneaten meal as he held the door open for Meredith to exit, looking to Zelda with a frown as he slowly closed it behind her.

-:-:-:-

Knock Knock Knock.

Tiredly Zelda rose from her desk chair, briefly shutting her eyes to momentarily ease the itchy dryness that had overtaken them. The day had progressed achingly slowly, and she found herself more taxed than she'd anticipated. But she had one last meeting for the day before she could simply fall into the minutiae of her work for the night and enjoy the solitude of her room. Opening her eyes once more, she pulled on what little energy reserves she had and called out smoothly, "Come in."

The door opened and a striking young man with silvery hair entered, his arm held against his chest in a tight sling. Shutting the door, he gazed at her intently for a moment, a small smile on his face, before bowing low. His voice was warm yet filled with an emotion she could not name, and was too tired to attempt to decipher.

"Princess," He acknowledged, "You asked to see me?"

For the first time that day, Zelda smiled. "Faris, it is good to see you." She walked towards the young man, who gazed at her with soft eyes. "Impa told me of the injuries you sustained during the Calamity. How do you fare?"

"Better and better each day."

"That's wonderful to hear."

His smile broadened. "Thank you. And how do you fare, your Highness? You seem to be in good health."

She hesitated only a moment, the truth of her current state at odds with the polite answer she knew she should give; however, she kept her mask of polite interest firmly in place. "I am, thank you." Before he could continue with further small talk, she diverted the conversation straight to the reason for his summons. "Though I wish we had an opportunity to catch up, I unfortunately have much demanding my attention this evening. I wanted to make a request of you. I assume you have heard of the upcoming funeral?"

He nodded once more, eying her curiously.

"I know traditional Hylian funerals are typically somber, serious affairs, but my plans are actually quite the opposite. I wish to foster an environment of celebration and community rather than sorrow and formality. To that end I have arranged for a celebratory feast after the ceremony. If you feel your arm will be healed enough by then and are amenable to the task, I would very much like for you to perform during the feast."

Faris' eyes widened in surprise. She had been expecting as much. As the court poet, his performances were usually limited to smaller affairs in the castle—birthdays for members of the royal family, solstice celebrations, entertaining visiting dignitaries… This would certainly be a change of pace for him. However, he didn't falter in his response, gazing at her with just a hint of pride in his dark eyes.

"I would be honored. Healer Selga believes I should be well enough to remove my split within a few days time. Is there anything in particular you would like me to play?"

Zelda shook her head. "No, I only ask that you avoid pieces which focus on death or loss. Warm and lighthearted songs would be best."

The poet nodded. However, as she opened her mouth to dismiss him he quickly interrupted.

"Princess, I… while I was here, I was… hoping to ask you a favor."

Though she was happy to see him, and happy to have this business finalized, she was tired, and eager to have the room to herself for the night. However, she nodded politely. He was a friend after all, she could spare a moment for his request.

"I know your time is limited right now, but I was hoping I could get a moment for a brief interview. I'm writing a new piece about the vanquishing of the Calamity, and there are some rather… outlandish rumors circulating. I wanted to know from the source what happened that day." He paused, eying her carefully. Seeing her smile falter, he added quickly, "For posterity's sake."

Zelda stilled. Revisiting that day was… not something she really wanted to do. Sharing what she had in the council meeting had been hard enough. Besides, she wasn't quite sure what she really wanted to—or should—share. Impa was really the only one who'd gotten the full story, down to every last gritty detail. Between her and Link, over the course of her recovery they'd managed to cover all that had happened from her failure at the Spring of Wisdom to her arrival at the castle after their defeat of Ganon. She didn't think she could bear to relive it all again even on a good day—and today was decidedly not a good day.

More than that, she had a political image to be conscious of now. She didn't want to fuel any hero worship or incite fear against her or Link. And goddesses only knew what the rumors he spoke of were about—no need to fan the flames there, either. True, she trusted Faris—he was a Sheikah, after all, loyal to the Royal Family and their wellbeing. He had also proved himself a friend over the years, both in his capacity as the court poet and during their lengthy survey of the shrines all over Hyrule; but she was exhausted, and her stress was mounting, and though she didn't want to be rude she simply didn't want to deal with this right now.

Yet as she gazed at Faris, eying her with hope and nervousness and just a touch of excitement, she felt her resistance waning. She simply didn't have the energy to deny him and deal with his inevitable disappointment and polite needling. He hadn't been made court poet at the young age of 19 for a lack of determination.

She settled on a middle road. Withholding a sigh, she gestured towards the twin arm chairs in the corner and made for one herself. "I have much more work still to do, but I can spare a few minutes now. Will that suffice?"

Faris' eyes lit up, and he nodded demurely, though his excitement still shone through. "Absolutely, your Highness." Following after her, he settled into the seat across from her. The chair beneath her felt entirely too comfortable to her sleep-deprived body, however she determinedly ignored it, doing her best to stay focused on the matter at hand.

Pulling out a small notebook and pen from a breast pocket, he leaned forward onto the arm rest and eyed her attentively.

"So, first things first. How exactly did you unlock your power? I know you had been returning from the spring of Wisdom when the Calamity broke out—were you successful?"

Zelda felt tension seep into her shoulders as she remembered the overwhelming feeling of devastation which had plagued her on her journey down the mountain to the Eastern gate. Already she was doubting her choice to entertain his request. Attempting to keep the bitterness from her voice, she said softly, "No, I was not. It was sometime later that I unlocked my power, shortly after Ganon appeared over the castle."

He hummed, turning his attention briefly to his journal as he jotted down notes. "If you don't mind my asking, how were you able to unlock your power? What occurred to bring it about?"

"I…" she faltered, too many emotions rising as she cast her mind back. Swallowing heavily, she pushed them down and tried to focus. "Even now I'm not entirely sure. When Ganon turned the guardians against us, Link and I had been fighting through the monsters before the castle town gate, trying to reach the castle. He—"

Faris interrupted, eyes wide. "Wait—wait… you were both fighting monsters?"

For a moment, pride overtook the sorrow and pain she was feeling, and a small smile rose to her lips. "Yes… we were both fighting monsters." She continued on, ignoring his stunned expression. "When the guardians turned, Link tried to lead me to safety, but we were ambushed in the woods." Faris had shaken himself from his shock and had returned himself to his notes. Yet as she recalled the events within the trees, trying to think how she wanted to convey what had happened, her heart began to ache in her chest. She shut her eyes as the overwhelming mental image of Link's limp body against the tree trunk rose to her mind, as well as the sickening crack of his head against the wood. "He was… he was ready to lay down his life to give me a chance at escape. But… I wasn't fast enough, and he got thrown against a tree by one of the rogue guardians and fell unconscious. And I—I just…" she shifted her hand in her lap, rotating her wrist so that the back of her hand was visible. No mark adorned it now, her skin pale and unblemished. But she remembered—remembered that moment vividly.

Shaking her head of the thoughts, she attempted to hide her discomfort, refocusing on maintain the polite mask on her face which had begun to slip. "I stepped in front of him, to protect him, and it was just… there—the power to seal Ganon away. I defeated the guardian, and when Link awoke we made our way back to the castle. I'm sure you've heard the rest."

As she finished her tale, Faris' exuberant interest faded and his expression became guarded. Though strange, Zelda didn't have the energy to contemplate it. He'd gotten his tale. He nodded before looking down to add more notes to his journal.

He asked only a few more questions, mostly about what it was like to actually fight Ganon, and how she felt stepping in to fill in for her father (he, as well as many others within the castle were unaware of the King's true condition). She answered as best she could, finding herself resorting to briefer, more generalized answers as her psychological stress mounted. After several minutes more he finally closed his notebook, tucking it back into his pocket. Thanking her politely for her time, he headed for the door, exiting silently.

But Zelda payed him relatively little attention as he departed. With each question she'd been forced almost bodily back to that day; and with each answer she felt the fear and horror and despair creeping back, taking up residence into her heart. No matter if Ganon had been defeated, if he no longer posed any threat—she couldn't get her mind off of Link's bruised and battered form—off the desperate ache at the thought he might not survive; off the bodies strewn before the Castle Town gate; off her own certainty of failure.

As Faris shut the door behind her, she looked down to see her hands trembling in her lap. Frowning, Zelda flexed the muscles in her arms to still them.

The sun was just starting to near the horizon, indicating it long overdue for her to return to work. But perhaps that was a blessing—it might take her mind off things. Rising from her arm chair, she returned to her desk, glancing tiredly through the documents which covered its surface as she decided what to resume working on first.

-:-:-:-

Darkness had long since fallen, and Zelda's limbs felt simultaneously like lead and jelly. She was slumped in her chair, reviewing the security plan for the funeral provided by the council earlier that evening. A dull ache resonated from her stomach, her limbs were tense and achy, and there was a pounding behind her eyes; yet anxious energy coursed through her still, despite all her discomforts.

Food seemed appealing in concept, but every time she turned towards the platter with her latest meal, the sight and smell repulsed her. When she tried to force herself to eat something, it felt bitter and tasteless—almost ashen—in her mouth; and the more she forced into her stomach the more she felt nausea overtake her, threatening to regurgitate whatever had managed to make it down. Thus she'd finally given up entirely, committing to ignore food as a component of her day if only so she didn't have to waste energy on trying. Besides, her first deadline was approaching with the rise of the sun, and she was going to be damn sure she saw every aspect of her first major project as Regent through to a timely completion.

However, she was now also nearing two days without sleep and it was showing. She was getting sloppy, clumsy; she'd gone through two copies of the civilian monument design already, spilling water on one and smearing ink all over the other. Eying her bed, she was beginning to think a little sleep, even if only a brief nap, might be the solution to her quickly declining quality of work.

Giving the security plan one last cursory glance, she set it down atop the pile of papers on her desk and blew out the candle. Without bothering to change she walked to the bed, stumbling in the moonlight before reaching the bedside and pulling back the sheets. Slipping under the covers, her heavy eyelids slid shut the moment her head touched the pillow, and she quickly succumbed to sleep.

It was dark, and she was alone. A thick fog floated atop the dewy, grassy earth and faint light from a crescent moon filtered through a canopy of leaves and branches above her. Tree trunks loomed in the dark. She was dressed in naught but her prayer dress and the chill breeze sent shivers up her arms.

Foreboding filled her, and as she struggled to gain her bearings a faint voice called out from within the trees.

"Zelda…"

She whipped her head around, trying to determine where the sound had from. It sounded so familiar… Another called after it, just as faint and ghostly.

"Princess…"

Then another, spoken in softer tones.

"Princess…"

As sudden as the voices came, so too did a faintly glowing figure appear in the distance, illuminating the trees. The fog pooling at its feet glowed ethereally in the light the figure gave off, a faint blue. It turned and began to walk away, continuing to call her name.

"Zelda…"

"Wait!" she yelled as the figure gained distance. Spurred by a desire not to be left alone in the unsettling silence and darkness of the woods, and by a strange instinct that she should not lose sight of it, she ran after the mysterious figure. Cold air whipped at her face and arms as she darted almost blindly between the dark trees, fog kicking up as she disturbed the air with her pace. However, the nearer she got, the farther the figure seemed to be. Panic gripped her at the prospect of losing the figure altogether and being left alone in the terrifyingly empty woods. She increased her pace, tired legs aching with the effort, but soon the figure could no longer be seen. She stopped, winded, leaning against a tree to catch her breath. She was alone, all alone… Her heart thumped painfully against her ribcage and the trees around her seemed to shift and close in on her, and she wasn't entirely sure it was her imagination.

Suddenly a blue light caught the edges of her vision. Turning towards the source, desperate to find someone to lead her to safety, she saw…

"Father!" she gasped; but he didn't look right. His skin was pale, his eyes milky, and he glowed a faint blue. Had he been the figure she was chasing? He didn't answer her, simply turned and drifted slowly away. Determined not to lose him this time, she followed after.

He traversed only a short distance, his movement mysteriously leaving the fog undisturbed, unlike her own. When he finally stopped they were in a small clearing, a circle of Sycamores surrounding them. He turned to her, but his figure was fading away. Her heart pounded in sudden dread. No! As she ran forward, arms extended desperately, he uttered two faint words before fading into nothingness.

"…your fault…"

Her hands grasped at air where he had been standing only moments ago. She could feel hot tears begin to well in her eyes as she looked around, trying to figure out what to do. As she made to move forward, her feet hit something obscured beneath the fog. Turning her gaze downward, she squinted trying to see in the dim light. Slowly the fog parted to give her a clearer view, and she felt a scream tear from her throat as she stumbled backward in shock. It was her father, his body pale and broken, clothing ripped and stained with blood. Jagged, bloodless cuts adorned his face, and he was still—deathly still. Her heart was pounding, blood rushing in her ears. She felt faint. No! He couldn't be…

Before she could properly process what lay before her, the fog filling the clearing began to dissipate, throwing into horrifying relief all that it had hidden.

Bodies. Hundreds upon hundreds of bodies lay strewn across the ground; men, women, soldiers, even children. Some were bloodied, others were missing limbs, but all of them were pale and still, wide eyes reflecting the pale moonlight; but that wasn't the worst of it. There, just ahead of her father, lay the broken and bloodied corpses of Mipha and Revali. Both were pale, unmoving, eyes glassy as they stared into nothing. A jagged cut tore through Revali's leather jerkin, sinking deep into his flesh, feathers sticking out at odd angles and covered in blood. Mipha's neck lay at an unnatural angle, mouth agape in a silent scream. Zelda felt her throat constrict as her breathing came raggedly, her body shaking uncontrollably and her heart palpitating within her chest. Her father's words echoed in her head, '…your fault…'

A sudden rustling sound followed by a low growl drew her attention into the woods beyond. There, looming out of the darkness, were two mismatched yellow eyes set above a sinister, crooked grin… Panic seized her, and her mind screamed at her legs to move but she was immobile. Looking down, gray, withered, corpse-like hands rose from the ground holding her ankles in place, their skin cold and slimy against hers. Lifting her legs with all her might, she found herself unable to budge from where she stood. Heart pounding in her chest, she returned her gaze to the woods, frozen as she gazed in horror at the creature she knew to be Calamity Ganon, bringer of all the death that surrounded her. Slowly, painfully slowly, it approached. Unbridled fear clutched at her heart as panic set in. Where was Link? Glancing frantically around the clearing, she saw no sign of him. Where was he?! He was supposed to protect her! As Ganon left the shadows of the woods, his monstrous body slowly becoming visible in the weak moonlight, she felt her throat burn as she did the only thing she could do: scream.

Zelda sat straight up, sweat beading on her neck and face, mixing with the tears which streaked down her cheeks. Her heart was pounding painfully in her chest and she wasn't sure where she was. Urgently she looked around her, searching for the yellow eyes which had only moments ago been advancing upon her; but her mind couldn't register anything but darkness. Feeling herself begin to hyperventilate, she forced her eyes shut, trying to calm herself. With her eyes closed, she could feel her other senses more acutely: under her hands she felt soft cotton, and beneath her she felt the pillowy softness of her bed. Opening her eyes once more, she took in the dim, moonlit chamber which was her bedroom and everything came rushing back.

Quickly she swung her feet over the side of the bed, standing on wobbly legs as she hobbled back towards her desk and the candle sitting upon it, desperate for light. After two failed attempts she was able to get her shaky hands to successfully strike a match and she lit the wick, her pile of papers coming into stark relief with the security plan laying atop the rest. Sitting in her chair, she took a deep, steadying breath. Once she got her breathing under control, she leaned forward for her pen. Anything to keep her mind from where it had just been was welcome.

-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-

Link was uneasy. Though he hadn't gotten the chance to see her beyond a passing glance, she was far too busy, he knew something was wrong. He had watched Meredith return almost untouched trays of food from her room almost every meal for the past three days. Every time he caught a glimpse of her at her desk, her eyes were hollow, her shoulders stooped. This… apathy, this wasn't her. Even when she had received news of Revali and Mipha's deaths, of the King's coma, she had reacted emotionally. She was a passionate person, even if her crown dictated she reign in such behavior.

And when she wasn't apathetic, she was snappy and angry—something that, while not completely out of character—he hadn't forgotten the few times she had yelled at him early on in his appointment—was also not a good sign.

The hall was silent save for the soft hiss and snap of lit braziers lining the corridor. It was a pleasant change from the daylight hours, when the hall was bustling with activity. He found lately he was in need of time alone with his thoughts.

What should he do? It was clear the Princess was suffering, even if she put on a brave face and denied anything was wrong. He could take a pretty good guess at what was bothering her, though he couldn't know for sure. Friends did this sort of thing, right? But… how did he help?

The quiet of the hall was suddenly interrupted by the faint sound of hushed giggling. Curiously glancing left and right out of the corners of his eye, Link spotted them: two young maids peering around the corner at the far end of the hall. One of them he recognized, a young short-haired brunette whom he'd seen in the courtyard with Daruk a few days prior. Of course. Irritation flared within him as he pointedly ignored their unsubtle presence.

When Zelda had initially informed him of his newfound… popularity, aside from some embarrassment, he hadn't thought much of it. Romance was hardly a priority for him at present, especially given the past year; who cared if a bunch of women he'd never come to know were fawning over him? He had more important things to be dealing with. But after two weeks of being stalked through the castle by giggling girls, it was beginning to grate on him. Had they nothing better to do?

A faint noise interrupted his internal grousing, except this time it was not coming from down the hall. Subtly turning his ear towards the door so as not to arouse suspicion with his observers, he realized it was coming from within the Princess' chambers. Listening more closely, he recognized faint, frenzied words.

"Fah… Father…"

Link immediately recognized the tone—it was one he'd heard often growing up, when his father would relive old battles in his dreams. She was having a nightmare. Link felt his heart twist. Damnit, he knew he should have said something!

"No… no!"

More giggling carried across the corridor and Link felt his hand tighten into a fist at his side in response. His first instinct was to turn and go to her, but the maids down the hall gave him pause. The last thing he wanted was to start rumors about secret, midnight visits. He knew what they were like: they fed on gossip, lived and breathed scandal and speculation. Not all of them, perhaps—Meredith was a good egg; but enough of them. His thoughts were punctuated by a strangled gasp from within the room, and he cringed. As he was contemplating going in anyway, despite the maids, he heard the muffled scrape of the desk chair followed by the faint sound of several strikes of a match—she must have woken up. Link let out a small breath. This couldn't go on. Tomorrow, he would find time to talk to her. He wasn't sure what he would say, or how he would approach her, but he needed to do something. She couldn't live like this, and he couldn't stand idly by and watch her suffer.

A/N: Another long one, and hey, would you look at that! We've officially reached the double digits, chapter-wise. I think that calls for a celebratory candy bar. Tomorrow will be another busy day so this, once again, comes a bit early. Thursdays are turning into increasingly busy days so depending on how next week goes I may change my publication day to Wednesday, but we'll see.

You can expect a good deal of PTSD/trauma themes, in case that hasn't already become clear. I've done a lot of work with people who suffer from it, and it's always been something I've wanted to explore artistically, be it in writing or painting or what have you. It can be really debilitating, especially things like parasomnias (sleep problems, everything from nightmares to night terrors to sleep walking to teeth grinding to muscle tension, etc.) that happen in a way you can't control and affect your ability to function during your waking hours. I felt like, a 17 year old, no matter how much they had prepared, would be just a bit blown away by such a catastrophic event, and wanted to convey that trauma-coping-healing process throughout the first part of my story.

And... Faris! Enter the court poet, stage right! I struggled so much on that name, I don't know why. Nothing seemed to quite fit or feel very Sheikah and though I'm only moderately happy with the name, it works well enough. I have some fun plans for him, so in the end I'm glad he got shoved back into my story.

Also if you haven't seen on my profile I've started a Tumblr where I will be posting this story (and reblogging some of my fav LoZ & ZeLink art because I'm hopeless), as eventually it will exceed the FFnet M rating (at least as far as what they say the limits of the M rating are. I know many people have posted explicit content on here, but I'd rather not push my luck). That's a good deal down the road, however, and I'll let you know when I get to that point. I'm spicychestnut123 on Tumblr.

That's about all for now. Leave me a review with your thoughts! Special thanks to Kersplunk, Markus-Antonius, Guest, Awakening5, and Amarok Walker for leaving lovely comments last chapter. See you next week!