Chapter Thirteen
Link woke up, entirely refreshed and rejuvenated. No haunted dreams of that Miyako girl, no dreams of his past, no dreams of Ganondorf, no dreams at all, and it felt so good as he stretched contentedly and lay back down on the bed, staring at the ceiling.
After a moment of this, guilt inevitably set in. What right did he have, allowing a girl to die alone in a tower, locked away and shackled up like a dangerous beast? But for all he knew, she could be dangerous. Maybe that was why she was there in the first place.
'If Navi were around, she'd give me no choice. She'd make me rescue Miyako,' thought the nineteen-year-old somewhat nostalgically. He had not heard from or of the fairy since they parted shortly after he saved Hyrule. Because he was not a Kokiri, it was forbidden for her to remain with him any longer. She had already pushed her luck. But still... the little sprite had been terribly useful and intelligent, and she had been a good friend by his side during his adventure.
Sighing heavily, the Hero of Time rose from his bed to bathe and dress. The general might need his presence.
Lance cavorted somewhat crazily around the garden, pretending to practice with the bastard sword he had received, but quite actually fooling about. There was no need to practice; he knew how to wield a sword to save his life, and that was all that was necessary, really.
"And what stance do we call that, Lance?" questioned a voice lazily from the depths of the plants around him. The young sailor halted his antics and looked around, smiling slightly.
"Aye, Cheyanna, 'tis called the Crazy Stance of a Half-witted Sailor. And what be you doin' here in the garden? I thought 'twas lunchtime, aye." The princess stepped out of the bushes and nodded once.
"I already ate earlier; I'm quite full. Do you expect to get anywhere with practice like that?" Her voice held amiable disdain, but disdain nonetheless. Lance touched his forehead respectfully, although she knew it was a mockery.
"Forgive me, princess, but t'ain't in your place to be judgin' me skills. What counts is when I'm on the battlefield."
"You're a friend of Link's, aren't you?" Her manner changed at once, and sighing wistfully, she seated herself on a small wicker chair nearby. Lance leaned on the bastard sword, wondering exactly where the conversation was headed.
"Aye, I am." Cheyanna looked longingly at the rosebushes within the small area.
"Well, I don't know why, but... he seems so cold towards me. Have I done something wrong? Am I not likeable?" Lance scratched his head, a bit confused at this turn of topics.
"Hmm... I don't know. He don't prefer the royal type, 'tis all I know."
"I could change! We don't have to stay here and rule Selinta..." Her voice trailed off and she blushed prettily. The eighteen-year-old clucked his tongue and raised both eyebrows.
"Already fancied him your husband? Cheyanna, you're a wild one."
"I know, but... he's awfully handsome..."
"Awfully? Think that's a bad thing? How low you must think of me, then!" She laughed, then shook her head.
"Just a figure of speech, Lance, no need to be so literal. You're usually not. Something's bothering you, isn't it?" The sailor shook his head.
"Nay, princess, nothing a'tall. I'm fine. Never you mind about poor ol' Lance. But... I don't think Link's really interested at the moment."
"But am I not pretty?" She fluttered her eyelashes alluringly at him, and Lance smiled primly.
"Far more exquisite than an icy sunset, Cheyanna," he answered quietly. She laughed merrily.
"You're quite the charmer, Lance."
"It came with who I am, Cheyanna. I don't know what else to tell ye. Link's not the romantic type. 'Least, I've no reason to believe it. Aye. He's a born fighter and wanderer. Maybe one day, but not today or for a while after." With that Lance performed a little salute with the sword and sauntered off deeper into the garden to practice alone.
Cheyanna fumed inwardly. She was no closer to discovering what it would take to throw Link off his guard, and on top of that the only friend she'd ever really had seemed to be less... appraising of her. How dare he!
'Everything's going wrong, I'd better tell Viru about this,' she thought angrily, stalking off to the castle's back entrance.
Link swung the Master Sword idly, concentrating only on the wooden construct that served as his practice partner. It was certainly no substitution for a flesh-and-blood partner, but it was sufficient nonetheless.
Still, it did feel a little foolish to be ducking and dodging around, pretending some lump of wood was seriously threatening his life, but training with the other soldiers was awkward and usually uncomfortable. Many felt inferior to him, and that started the whole mess in the first place, of why they proved to be little of a challenge.
He never considered himself an elite swordsman by any means, but he could certainly swing a sword like there was no tomorrow. Many of the Royal Hylian Army soldiers knew this, and because they felt that they were no match for him, they /became/ no match for him, when in reality, could have easily been up to the challenge of facing him.
Whatever the reason, there was still the only outcome; he trained alone and for much longer hours than any other soldier did. He supposed because his skills needed sharper honing, and probably because his training was not as efficient as theirs, to boot.
'No pity for one who complains,' he thought, performing a roll and weave and striking at his 'opponent.' Then he stopped and let the tip of the Master Sword lower to the ground slowly. Suddenly his training, his effort, seemed completely useless and illogical. Link clutched the handle of the sword and sighed desperately. Was there no avoiding it? He supposed he would have to go looking for that strange girl. She had been on his mind the entire morning.
Link strode down the castle halls, pretending to be carrying out some important task, but quite actually wondering where the hell he was going. He had no idea where there would be a doorway to a set of stairs leading up the /right/tower. And he certainly couldn't ask for a map of the castle; that would be considered very curious behavior.
Convinced he'd found the right door (after all, not many doors sported a small plaque saying "East Tower" on them), Link reached to open it, but before he could...
"What are you doing?" The Hero of Time glanced to his left and saw Jonathan standing several yards away. "Going off into the East Tower? Questionable."
"Only for someone who would consider it himself," retorted the nineteen- year-old immediately.
"I don't recall being told that we could explore the castle on our own, without accompaniment," replied the younger smugly, sure that he had finally cornered Link.
"But then again, the king never said we couldn't, did he?" Link pointed out, lifting an eyebrow at the soldier. "And why are you interested in spying on me?"
"That's not true," hissed Jonathan indignantly, clutching his fists at his sides and glaring at Link. The Hero of Time knew he had the upper hand.
"Why are you always following me, and pestering me? The answer's obvious. You're obsessed."
"You're a sick person, Link, and extremely conceited for 'one so honorable,' " Jonathan snapped, storming off. Inwardly pleased with having disposed of the bothersome rival without too much trouble, the blonde teenager opened the door, stepped inside, and shut it after him. Nothing worked like turning a man's hatred against him. Nobody saw him enter the East Tower.
Link stepped up the winding stairs, wondering just how far this exploration would take him. Every so often he passed by a tough-looking wooden door, but these he pay no mind. Miyako would be in the highest tower; Kaepora had lain claim himself. And she would also be in the highest room, no doubt.
So he climbed. And climbed. After ten more minutes of stairs, Link was all too happy to embrace the notion of simply turning around and walking back down. But it was either continue on, or hold the guilt of having let a damsel in distress die.
Miyako sensed someone coming. Someone with much strength and courage. Even in her weak, unfortunate state, she could still sense the aura of people as they approached the top room in the East Tower. Making an effort to sit up, the girl waited for whoever it was to reach her cell.
After what seemed to be an eternity, Link reached the final room. He suspected that he was out of practice for traveling a short distance up a steep incline. Perhaps his sword skills weren't the only skills that needed finer honing.
He had reached the topmost room at least, and that was something to pat himself on the back for. But that would have to wait until later; at the moment, he had a girl to liberate.
Link peered into the cell, and it was just as bare and impersonal as it had been in his dreams, and the girl was in the same corner, only this time she was sitting up.
Unerringly, she spoke.
"Hello?" Her voice sounded almost rusted, as though she had not spoken for a long time, but it had pleasant undertones. It was a voice he could certainly get used to. "Hello, someone is there. Please answer." Unfortunately, Link had no idea what to say.
"I... Um... I came," he replied weakly, knowing no other response. "You sent me dreams, and... Here I am." Pathetic, but it was something.
"...Link?" Her tone of voice changed; she sounded hopeful. "You're the boy!" He snorted slightly at that; he was no boy, but his indignation did not matter to her, however; she would soon be free!
"Yes, whatever. Please, I know you've got the skill to get me out of here! I'll explain everything afterwards, and I'm sure you'll need to know what I've discovered." Link tried the door. Naturally, it was locked. He kicked it deftly several times. Nothing happened. A bomb might bring too much attention, but what...?
'A fire arrow,' he thought, concentrating on the powers of fire as he drew an arrow out of his quiver. The tip flamed eternally, as it would (even in the rain) until it struck its target. He held it to the doorknob and willed it to grow hotter than ever. Eventually it melted the doorknob, and Link heard an almost inaudible click, but he replaced the arrow in his quiver and tried it again. The door opened, with some trouble, but that was to be expected.
But, looking at her metal shackles and fetters, it might be a tougher job freeing her. After all, the heat had been unbearable nearly for him, and he had been holding the arrow by its very end. Trying to melt it off her would probably only succeed in melting it /onto/ her.
"How am I going to get those off you?" He wondered aloud, walking closer. Even though her hair was matted and dirty from being kept prisoner so long, it still flamed red from beneath the muck.
"I'm sure, that if my hands weren't bound so tightly together, I could manage to slip my wrists out, but since they're behind my back, the opportunity hasn't arisen," she replied dryly, "or I wouldn't need your help."
"What should I do, then?"
"Chop the chain." Her tone was curt and final. "I'll hold them as far from my back as possible, and just swing your sword."
"...Well, I guess, but you could get hurt..." She made an impatient noise, and he got the message. Without further commentary, Link drew out the Biggoron's Sword, since its blade was keener than that of the Master Sword. He stepped back, tapped the chain lightly, taking note of the angle and the distance, and swung hard. The chain broke weakly and she flexed her arms, flinching at the stiffness in her muscles.
"It's been a while," she muttered, rubbing one shoulder, then the next. Link ignored her comment and swung again, liberating her feet, although he didn't think she'd be able to slip the fetters off her feet. To his surprise, her wrists were already free of the shackles when he sheathed his sword. "There, that's better." Miyako scrambled to her feet and wavered a bit, as though uncertain of how to stand. Link reached out and steadied her, feeling something of an spark between the two of them touching. Miyako reached behind her neck and carefully undid the mask, and turned to look at her rescuer.
Her emeralds met his sapphires, and Link felt the oddest sensation; it was as though someone was carefully picking away at the inside of his skull. It itched a little, but he remained still. Her face was pale, kept clean by shielding of the mask, but the transparency of her skin did not distract from her comeliness.
It was not a beauty of weeping matters; her face was merely pleasant. Her calm countenance drew his attention, but hers wasn't a beauty that would bewitch a man. It was a sort of common girl pretty, compared to Zelda. Looking at Zelda, you knew she was a princess. Looking at this girl, you knew she was a commoner, but one with more... more what?
"Thanks." Her voice had grown gruff. She rubbed her wrist, wincing slightly. "It's been terrible in here. The room service isn't all that they said it would be." Miyako smiled, and Link found himself smiling back. The itching sensation had gone away.
"Why did they put you in here?" He had to know what she had done that was so wrong to deserve being locked away in the highest tower.
"For insulting the princess and spying," she replied briskly, tucking several strands of flaming hair behind a long, elven ear.
"Oh." Miyako turned slightly away from him, her countenance frowning in concern. "What's wrong?"
"She also had me thrown in here because... because I know her terrible secret." Link's ears twitched involuntarily.
"Her... terrible secret?" Was that remarkable beauty magic-induced? Was she a bastard princess with no claim to the throne?
"Yes... It will come as a shock to you, but... she's meeting with King Viru, and giving him confidential information about Selintan troop movements and placements. That's why they've been winning all the battles." Link blinked in disbelief. Miyako looked back at him, an almost hurt expression on her face. "You don't believe me, I can tell. You think that she'd never be able to betray her own people, but some kind are just... born evil."
Finally! Thirteen chapters into the darned story and we meet another main character! Sorry it's been taking so long, but I've always aspired to make novels of my fanfiction. Hopefully, it brings depth and breadth to the plot. Thanks for grinning and bearing it, Faithful Reader.
Link woke up, entirely refreshed and rejuvenated. No haunted dreams of that Miyako girl, no dreams of his past, no dreams of Ganondorf, no dreams at all, and it felt so good as he stretched contentedly and lay back down on the bed, staring at the ceiling.
After a moment of this, guilt inevitably set in. What right did he have, allowing a girl to die alone in a tower, locked away and shackled up like a dangerous beast? But for all he knew, she could be dangerous. Maybe that was why she was there in the first place.
'If Navi were around, she'd give me no choice. She'd make me rescue Miyako,' thought the nineteen-year-old somewhat nostalgically. He had not heard from or of the fairy since they parted shortly after he saved Hyrule. Because he was not a Kokiri, it was forbidden for her to remain with him any longer. She had already pushed her luck. But still... the little sprite had been terribly useful and intelligent, and she had been a good friend by his side during his adventure.
Sighing heavily, the Hero of Time rose from his bed to bathe and dress. The general might need his presence.
Lance cavorted somewhat crazily around the garden, pretending to practice with the bastard sword he had received, but quite actually fooling about. There was no need to practice; he knew how to wield a sword to save his life, and that was all that was necessary, really.
"And what stance do we call that, Lance?" questioned a voice lazily from the depths of the plants around him. The young sailor halted his antics and looked around, smiling slightly.
"Aye, Cheyanna, 'tis called the Crazy Stance of a Half-witted Sailor. And what be you doin' here in the garden? I thought 'twas lunchtime, aye." The princess stepped out of the bushes and nodded once.
"I already ate earlier; I'm quite full. Do you expect to get anywhere with practice like that?" Her voice held amiable disdain, but disdain nonetheless. Lance touched his forehead respectfully, although she knew it was a mockery.
"Forgive me, princess, but t'ain't in your place to be judgin' me skills. What counts is when I'm on the battlefield."
"You're a friend of Link's, aren't you?" Her manner changed at once, and sighing wistfully, she seated herself on a small wicker chair nearby. Lance leaned on the bastard sword, wondering exactly where the conversation was headed.
"Aye, I am." Cheyanna looked longingly at the rosebushes within the small area.
"Well, I don't know why, but... he seems so cold towards me. Have I done something wrong? Am I not likeable?" Lance scratched his head, a bit confused at this turn of topics.
"Hmm... I don't know. He don't prefer the royal type, 'tis all I know."
"I could change! We don't have to stay here and rule Selinta..." Her voice trailed off and she blushed prettily. The eighteen-year-old clucked his tongue and raised both eyebrows.
"Already fancied him your husband? Cheyanna, you're a wild one."
"I know, but... he's awfully handsome..."
"Awfully? Think that's a bad thing? How low you must think of me, then!" She laughed, then shook her head.
"Just a figure of speech, Lance, no need to be so literal. You're usually not. Something's bothering you, isn't it?" The sailor shook his head.
"Nay, princess, nothing a'tall. I'm fine. Never you mind about poor ol' Lance. But... I don't think Link's really interested at the moment."
"But am I not pretty?" She fluttered her eyelashes alluringly at him, and Lance smiled primly.
"Far more exquisite than an icy sunset, Cheyanna," he answered quietly. She laughed merrily.
"You're quite the charmer, Lance."
"It came with who I am, Cheyanna. I don't know what else to tell ye. Link's not the romantic type. 'Least, I've no reason to believe it. Aye. He's a born fighter and wanderer. Maybe one day, but not today or for a while after." With that Lance performed a little salute with the sword and sauntered off deeper into the garden to practice alone.
Cheyanna fumed inwardly. She was no closer to discovering what it would take to throw Link off his guard, and on top of that the only friend she'd ever really had seemed to be less... appraising of her. How dare he!
'Everything's going wrong, I'd better tell Viru about this,' she thought angrily, stalking off to the castle's back entrance.
Link swung the Master Sword idly, concentrating only on the wooden construct that served as his practice partner. It was certainly no substitution for a flesh-and-blood partner, but it was sufficient nonetheless.
Still, it did feel a little foolish to be ducking and dodging around, pretending some lump of wood was seriously threatening his life, but training with the other soldiers was awkward and usually uncomfortable. Many felt inferior to him, and that started the whole mess in the first place, of why they proved to be little of a challenge.
He never considered himself an elite swordsman by any means, but he could certainly swing a sword like there was no tomorrow. Many of the Royal Hylian Army soldiers knew this, and because they felt that they were no match for him, they /became/ no match for him, when in reality, could have easily been up to the challenge of facing him.
Whatever the reason, there was still the only outcome; he trained alone and for much longer hours than any other soldier did. He supposed because his skills needed sharper honing, and probably because his training was not as efficient as theirs, to boot.
'No pity for one who complains,' he thought, performing a roll and weave and striking at his 'opponent.' Then he stopped and let the tip of the Master Sword lower to the ground slowly. Suddenly his training, his effort, seemed completely useless and illogical. Link clutched the handle of the sword and sighed desperately. Was there no avoiding it? He supposed he would have to go looking for that strange girl. She had been on his mind the entire morning.
Link strode down the castle halls, pretending to be carrying out some important task, but quite actually wondering where the hell he was going. He had no idea where there would be a doorway to a set of stairs leading up the /right/tower. And he certainly couldn't ask for a map of the castle; that would be considered very curious behavior.
Convinced he'd found the right door (after all, not many doors sported a small plaque saying "East Tower" on them), Link reached to open it, but before he could...
"What are you doing?" The Hero of Time glanced to his left and saw Jonathan standing several yards away. "Going off into the East Tower? Questionable."
"Only for someone who would consider it himself," retorted the nineteen- year-old immediately.
"I don't recall being told that we could explore the castle on our own, without accompaniment," replied the younger smugly, sure that he had finally cornered Link.
"But then again, the king never said we couldn't, did he?" Link pointed out, lifting an eyebrow at the soldier. "And why are you interested in spying on me?"
"That's not true," hissed Jonathan indignantly, clutching his fists at his sides and glaring at Link. The Hero of Time knew he had the upper hand.
"Why are you always following me, and pestering me? The answer's obvious. You're obsessed."
"You're a sick person, Link, and extremely conceited for 'one so honorable,' " Jonathan snapped, storming off. Inwardly pleased with having disposed of the bothersome rival without too much trouble, the blonde teenager opened the door, stepped inside, and shut it after him. Nothing worked like turning a man's hatred against him. Nobody saw him enter the East Tower.
Link stepped up the winding stairs, wondering just how far this exploration would take him. Every so often he passed by a tough-looking wooden door, but these he pay no mind. Miyako would be in the highest tower; Kaepora had lain claim himself. And she would also be in the highest room, no doubt.
So he climbed. And climbed. After ten more minutes of stairs, Link was all too happy to embrace the notion of simply turning around and walking back down. But it was either continue on, or hold the guilt of having let a damsel in distress die.
Miyako sensed someone coming. Someone with much strength and courage. Even in her weak, unfortunate state, she could still sense the aura of people as they approached the top room in the East Tower. Making an effort to sit up, the girl waited for whoever it was to reach her cell.
After what seemed to be an eternity, Link reached the final room. He suspected that he was out of practice for traveling a short distance up a steep incline. Perhaps his sword skills weren't the only skills that needed finer honing.
He had reached the topmost room at least, and that was something to pat himself on the back for. But that would have to wait until later; at the moment, he had a girl to liberate.
Link peered into the cell, and it was just as bare and impersonal as it had been in his dreams, and the girl was in the same corner, only this time she was sitting up.
Unerringly, she spoke.
"Hello?" Her voice sounded almost rusted, as though she had not spoken for a long time, but it had pleasant undertones. It was a voice he could certainly get used to. "Hello, someone is there. Please answer." Unfortunately, Link had no idea what to say.
"I... Um... I came," he replied weakly, knowing no other response. "You sent me dreams, and... Here I am." Pathetic, but it was something.
"...Link?" Her tone of voice changed; she sounded hopeful. "You're the boy!" He snorted slightly at that; he was no boy, but his indignation did not matter to her, however; she would soon be free!
"Yes, whatever. Please, I know you've got the skill to get me out of here! I'll explain everything afterwards, and I'm sure you'll need to know what I've discovered." Link tried the door. Naturally, it was locked. He kicked it deftly several times. Nothing happened. A bomb might bring too much attention, but what...?
'A fire arrow,' he thought, concentrating on the powers of fire as he drew an arrow out of his quiver. The tip flamed eternally, as it would (even in the rain) until it struck its target. He held it to the doorknob and willed it to grow hotter than ever. Eventually it melted the doorknob, and Link heard an almost inaudible click, but he replaced the arrow in his quiver and tried it again. The door opened, with some trouble, but that was to be expected.
But, looking at her metal shackles and fetters, it might be a tougher job freeing her. After all, the heat had been unbearable nearly for him, and he had been holding the arrow by its very end. Trying to melt it off her would probably only succeed in melting it /onto/ her.
"How am I going to get those off you?" He wondered aloud, walking closer. Even though her hair was matted and dirty from being kept prisoner so long, it still flamed red from beneath the muck.
"I'm sure, that if my hands weren't bound so tightly together, I could manage to slip my wrists out, but since they're behind my back, the opportunity hasn't arisen," she replied dryly, "or I wouldn't need your help."
"What should I do, then?"
"Chop the chain." Her tone was curt and final. "I'll hold them as far from my back as possible, and just swing your sword."
"...Well, I guess, but you could get hurt..." She made an impatient noise, and he got the message. Without further commentary, Link drew out the Biggoron's Sword, since its blade was keener than that of the Master Sword. He stepped back, tapped the chain lightly, taking note of the angle and the distance, and swung hard. The chain broke weakly and she flexed her arms, flinching at the stiffness in her muscles.
"It's been a while," she muttered, rubbing one shoulder, then the next. Link ignored her comment and swung again, liberating her feet, although he didn't think she'd be able to slip the fetters off her feet. To his surprise, her wrists were already free of the shackles when he sheathed his sword. "There, that's better." Miyako scrambled to her feet and wavered a bit, as though uncertain of how to stand. Link reached out and steadied her, feeling something of an spark between the two of them touching. Miyako reached behind her neck and carefully undid the mask, and turned to look at her rescuer.
Her emeralds met his sapphires, and Link felt the oddest sensation; it was as though someone was carefully picking away at the inside of his skull. It itched a little, but he remained still. Her face was pale, kept clean by shielding of the mask, but the transparency of her skin did not distract from her comeliness.
It was not a beauty of weeping matters; her face was merely pleasant. Her calm countenance drew his attention, but hers wasn't a beauty that would bewitch a man. It was a sort of common girl pretty, compared to Zelda. Looking at Zelda, you knew she was a princess. Looking at this girl, you knew she was a commoner, but one with more... more what?
"Thanks." Her voice had grown gruff. She rubbed her wrist, wincing slightly. "It's been terrible in here. The room service isn't all that they said it would be." Miyako smiled, and Link found himself smiling back. The itching sensation had gone away.
"Why did they put you in here?" He had to know what she had done that was so wrong to deserve being locked away in the highest tower.
"For insulting the princess and spying," she replied briskly, tucking several strands of flaming hair behind a long, elven ear.
"Oh." Miyako turned slightly away from him, her countenance frowning in concern. "What's wrong?"
"She also had me thrown in here because... because I know her terrible secret." Link's ears twitched involuntarily.
"Her... terrible secret?" Was that remarkable beauty magic-induced? Was she a bastard princess with no claim to the throne?
"Yes... It will come as a shock to you, but... she's meeting with King Viru, and giving him confidential information about Selintan troop movements and placements. That's why they've been winning all the battles." Link blinked in disbelief. Miyako looked back at him, an almost hurt expression on her face. "You don't believe me, I can tell. You think that she'd never be able to betray her own people, but some kind are just... born evil."
Finally! Thirteen chapters into the darned story and we meet another main character! Sorry it's been taking so long, but I've always aspired to make novels of my fanfiction. Hopefully, it brings depth and breadth to the plot. Thanks for grinning and bearing it, Faithful Reader.