LOVE IN A TIME OF CALAMITY
Part 2: After Catastrophe
Chapter 12: Kitchen Gossip

Heads up, this one is a good deal shorter than usual. Special author's note at bottom.

Chapter Warnings: none

"I tell you, it was a lovers quarrel!"

"Did he truly raise his voice to her? To the Princess?!"

"I knew it!"

"What did you hear? What did they say?"

Meredith stilled with her hands in the soapy water of the wash basin, subtly tilting her head to better hear the conversation taking place across the room. Late-morning sunlight streamed through the far windows of the warm, stuffy kitchen, and the sounds of pots and pans clattering filled the air. Despite that, their voices carried in the large, echoing chamber.

"She was screaming at him to leave her alone, and I didn't quite hear all of what he said in return, but I did hear him say, nice and loud, mind you, 'Why are you doing this?!'" She altered her voice to sound more gruff, and out of the corner of her eye she could see the young woman gesturing wildly with her hands. The gaggle of girls began to giggle and squeal.

"What do you think it was about?"

"After the council meeting I just know she wouldn't have stood for such treatment; there must be something going on if she allowed him to speak to her like that!"

"Ooooh, do you think it was a love confession gone wrong?"

The ringleader spoke over the eager voices, "I don't know what they were arguing about, but get this: He was in her room with her—alone—for an hour…"

"Ooh! Maybe it was a love confession gone right!"

Excited squeals erupted at this news, but Meredith had had enough. Pulling her hands from the water, she dried them on her apron before turning and marching around the island to where the gaggle of young women were huddled in the corner. Pointing her finger and speaking in her best no-nonsense voice, she glared at the ringleader with reproach.

"Nell, you leave 'er Highness be! She's under a lot of stress, she don't need you startin' no rumors!"

Nell turned, tucking a stray strand of short, mouse-brown hair behind her ear before eying Meredith with excitement, as though she hadn't just heard her reprimand.

"Meredith! You see the Princess every day, surely you must know something?"

The older woman huffed, annoyed that her words had gone in one ear and out the other. Typical Nell.

Meredith deeply admired the Princess and the Hero both, and had felt honored when the head of the kitchen staff had chosen her to serve the Princess. Seeing their privacy so flagrantly violated deeply bothered her. And though Meredith secretly agreed, the two did seem… unusually close, she wasn't about to share that with the gossip queen of the kitchens.

"If Master Link an' 'er Highness were indeed fightin', it's their business, not yours. Whatever it was, I'm sure 'e was proper and 'ad 'er best interests at heart. You let this be, you 'ere?"

Meredith stared sternly into the over-exuberant eyes of the young gossip-monger, pleased to see her finally wither under her disapproval. With a frown Nell averted her gaze, turning and heading towards the door which lead to the back patio where wood for the stoves was stored. Waving her hand, she acknowledged the reprimand in her usual airy fashion.

"Yeah, yeah, Meredith, I got it. We're just having fun, no need to be a spoil-sport."

Nell led her gaggle of gossiping girls to the back door and the group stepped out into the morning light, leaving Meredith to watch them depart. Though she was glad to have been able to interject before the rumor could get out of hand, she wrung her hands in worry anyway. It wasn't the first rumor of this sort she'd overheard. Whispers of a blossoming relationship had been circulating in some form ever since the Hero had carried her back to the castle after defeating the Calamity. Meredith had initially chalked it up to the overly-romanticized image his trek through the destroyed city had created in the minds of traumatized survivors—they were just latching on to fantasy to distract from the horror the Calamity had wrought. But now that she'd been serving the Princess for some time, she was beginning to wonder if there was, in fact, something more between them. Especially since she thought she might know what the two had been arguing about.

Meredith had returned an untouched plate of food to the kitchens from the Princess' chambers repeatedly over the past several days. Though she'd seen little of her directly as she worked studiously at her desk, she had noticed the Princess seemed to be doing poorly. She'd started to get increasingly short with her when Meredith would interrupt to deliver meals, and though she didn't take it personally—she knew her Highness was under an inordinate amount of stress, it was extremely out of character for the usually kind and courteous Princess. Most notably, whenever she left the room with an untouched plate, Master Link would frown ever so slightly as she slipped by him on her way back to the Kitchen. Clearly, he had been worried about her as well; that could easily have been the subject of their quarrel. He'd always shown a particular sort of thoughtfulness towards her that seemed… not inappropriate—far from it, just perhaps a bit above and beyond.

Maybe there wasn't some secret romance, maybe it was just a deep friendship, born of the destiny they'd both been preordained to carry. Whatever the case, Meredith worried for the Princess. She'd been working so hard on the funeral, it broke her heart to think such a kind and caring person must be the subject of vicious speculation. She walked back to the sink and resumed her task, contemplating Nell and her group of gossips. She sighed, scrubbing a little harder at the soapy pot. Whatever was truly going on, she could at least do her part by keeping Nell's overactive imagination in line.

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

Faris leaned his head back against the stone wall, his head spinning and heart pumping where he stood just out of sight of the maids. When he'd come down to the kitchen for an afternoon snack, the last thing he'd expected, or wanted, was to overhear more proof of the very suspicion so tormenting his soul. It must be true—he'd always thought of himself as very observant and perceptive; though he'd always doubted his own suspicions, if others had come to the same conclusion, then surely…?

Anger burned in his veins, and he turned rapidly on his heel throwing his weight behind a punch—then stopped just before his knuckles hit the stone. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath to calm his fury before lowering his arm. Feeling some of his composure return, he quietly turned for the door, opening it and stepping quietly into the hall, eager to get space from the conversation he'd overheard.

He walked quickly back through the winding passageways to his bedroom in the lower levels of the castle—to the section dedicated to housing the royal family's artists-in-residence. Currently he was the only one—it had been several generations since the castle was made home to a full roster of artists, and it had been King Rhoam's wish early into his reign to see that change. Though preparations for the calamity had largely diverted his attention, the King had managed to set aside the time to approach Faris several years ago, offering the commission. He had accepted readily, settling in quickly and happily to his new chambers and his new role… and not long after that, he'd met the Princess—and his fate had been sealed.

As he neared his chamber Faris struggled to keep his fury in check and his features neutral. However, the moment he stepped through the door into the privacy of his room, his control snapped. Launching himself towards his desk he swiped his arms across the surface, sending the papers outlining the beginning of his new ballad flying across the room. When he formed a fist with his hand, this time he did not stop himself as it slammed onto the surface of the desk with a loud thump.

He bent over the desk's surface heavily, feeling his shoulders shake and tears prick at the corners of his eyes. It wasn't fair! He had loved her for so long… did she not realize the extra effort he put into the songs he wrote for her—about her? Did she not feel the love he'd laced into the poem he'd written about her for her 16th birthday? Had she not felt the tenderness and care he'd treated her with when they'd surveyed the shrines throughout Hyrule together? They had known one another for over two years now. In all that time, had she truly never once looked his way?

Link was… he was nothing! He was just another soldier, another knight among hundreds of knights! So what if he had a special sword? He was neither nobility nor royalty… granted, neither was he, but he at least held a position of esteem within the court as a Sheikah. What did that… that stupid, brutish child have that he lacked?

He sighed heavily, his anger seeping out him along with his breath. Of course, aside from burning a hole in his heart, this complicated his latest work, too. Though it hadn't been a formal request, many months prior King Rhoam had expressed a desire to have an epic poem written about his daughter's defeat of the Great Calamity. Though the King was currently indisposed, he felt he should honor his request regardless, and had begun working on the piece shortly after his arm had recovered. Besides, it was a moment in Hyrule's history that would be remembered for generations, and he wished to be the one to memorialize it.

But what was he to write about the events that had transpired? It was in no way as smooth a tale as the events of 10,000 years ago. And though he couldn't be completely sure, between his observations and the Princess' own words it seemed likely that her love for the hero had unlocked her power. Dare he be so bold as to claim such? Aside from possibly incurring the wrath of the royal family, could his heart bear such a proclamation?

Removing himself from the desk, he knelt tiredly to the ground and began picking up the papers he had thrown in his anger. As he gathered up the last of the documents, his eyes spotted a small creme colored envelope on the floor near the door. Standing and setting the papers atop the desk once more, he walked towards the envelope with a quirked brow, stooping to pick it up. It was a smooth, heavyweight paper, with the words "Master Faris" written in elegant black script on the back. Flipping it over, he started, fingers grazing the intricate wax seal of the Lynnhurst family.

He opened it quickly, finding a single sheet of paper inside with a brief message written in the same curving script.

"Master Faris,

Lord Freder Lynnhurst requests the pleasure of your company on the 25th of April to discuss the possible commission of a personal project. Please meet Lord Lynnhurst in the castle Library at 9pm. Due to the nature of this project your discretion is appreciated.

With sincere regards,

Donovan Greese
Personal scribe to Lord Freder Lynnhurst"

Faris stared at the note with a furrowed brow, rereading it twice before tucking it back into the envelope and setting it on his desk. He stood still a moment, staring off into nothing. The 12th was not very far away… only a couple days after the funeral. Though it wasn't that odd for someone to request an audience on such short notice, it was odd for one of the etiquette-obsessed nobles to do so. And more than that, very rarely did the nobles commission him for anything in the first place. He personally saw it as evidence of their own gaudy, unrefined tastes in art—but apparently one of them saw the value in his work. Well… it seemed he had an appointment to add to his calendar.

With a long-suffering sigh Faris flopped onto his bed, letting his eyes slide shut as the afternoon's events slowly sunk in. It was just… it wasn't fair. He could feel his heart ache dully in his chest as an image of the princess floated within his mind's eye, beautiful and enchanting, but forever—painfully—out of reach.

A/N: Aw, poor Faris. Getting started on the court poet's story line, finally, after his little cameo a few chapters back. In my head, I thought of this as the "banana phone" chapter-any of you play that as a kid? Also called telephone I think. Such is the way of gossip...

And OH MY GOD 5,000 hits last month guys?! WHAAAAAAAT! I'm so stoked. And over 100 followers?! AH! Can't believable. If I could, I would make you all the friggin best peanut butter cookies of your life (cuz PB cookies are the best, and I make the best cookies out there, yo).

And with that in mind, I have to say I feel kinda bad about this chapter being so much shorter than all the rest. Like... really short, by my standards. And a filler chapter to boot! So I'll make you all a deal. My two betas are both waist-deep in work so my feedback has been somewhat lacking lately. If I get 10 reviews about your impression of the story so far, I'll post the next chapter early! (reviews under 10 words don't count, though. I need me some feedback!). Though I would also appreciate comments on this chapter, I'd really, really love some thoughts on the story as a whole, so far.

As usual, a big thank you to everyone who reviewed last chapter! I'm talking to you, Artificial Python, Ultimate blazer, lordrednight, Awakening5, Guest, and Markus Antonius.

Artificial Python: Thank you! I actually rewrote that chapter like, 3 times, because I wasn't happy with their dynamic. My beta was kinda peeved at me for that, because I kept sending drafts and she'd get halfway through it before I'd send her another, lol.

lordrednight: Thank you! I had to sit down when I started work on chapter 13 months ago and map out my alt-world, because I was losing track of things and wanted to make sure all the pieces worked together, even thousands of words down the road. If you're interested, I posted my map outline on my Tumblr. It's got the various regional territory border lines and fictional cities marked and such. No spoilers, though, don't worry.

Awakening5: Thank you! Your comment really made my day, and I appreciated your honesty. I agree with you-it drives me bananas when authors, of fanfiction and actual books-toss in drama for the sake of it. In my mind it needs to have some sort of plot purpose or serve the function of character development. There's enough needless drama and angst in the world as it is. And more than that, I appreciate your comments about realism. Though I can still get into it, some stories sort of require you to suspend your disbelief and roll with the logic of their created universe rather than apply real-world responses and logic to fictional situations. Now that I've written my own story I kinda get why that happens, though I wanted to try and avoid that. So I'm glad you think I'm doing good on that front, so far :D

Guest: Yaaay, that delights me to hear. I try and keep it interesting^_^

So, as usual, I'll see you next week! Thanks to all those who stopped by and read The Virtues of Wisdom, Courage, Power, and Faith, and be on the lookout for another short(ish) mini-fic from me this week or next!