AN: This is a confusing chapter, I admit that, and I apologize. I actually wrote another version of this chapter, but it didn't fit even though it was much easier to write and I thought it was cool. If you just go with the flow, I think you should be able to figure it out…I hope so at least…Really, I don't mean to be confusing! I just…am…sometimes…
Chapter Twenty: Direct Aftermath
They had wrapped her in one of the soldiers' cloaks so they might carry her from the temple with some dignity. Not one of the Captain's men, even Marcus himself, really knew what to make of her. Had she been witch, mortal, fey, perhaps a Goddess herself? It did not matter what she was though because it did not save her from the sword.
Nabooru ordered the girl's body to be taken to the castle and to have her wounds cleaned, and the soldiers did as they were ordered, but a heaviness settled in their hearts as they bore the person quietly and unobtrusively through the streets. Even they knew that there was something not quite right about everything, even though the victory was theirs.
Link just let the entire commotion slide past him as he stood silently among the destruction of the Temple of Time. He did not even remember when they took Loraefin out of his arms and carried her away. A youthful soldier approached him cautiously, and gently pulling on his arm began to lead Link out into the open air, hopefully away from foul sights that burdened him.
"Come on now Link, you're wounded, let us get a carrier for you," Grant's deep voice offered sympathetically while he held his friend up in the torchlight just outside of the temple. Link had never looked more weary and defeated than he did now, with evidence of the battle covering him from head to toe. Striking gashes along his jaw and hand seeped fresh blood. They would certainly leave deep scars. Grant knew that those scars wouldn't be the only ones this hero would carry.
A dozen men or so rushed past into the temple with mighty beams of wood to fortify the remaining structure from breaking further. Many great groans were still emanating from the stone walls, each growl threatening to send what was left of the temple crashing down. A small crumbling sound followed Grant and Link out of the temple, but neither of them cared to look back. Everything was destroyed enough as it was.
"No, I can walk. Let me walk," Link said weakly, oblivious to any pain he felt and stood on his own. This is a dream, Great Farore, let it be a dream…
"Dream? What'r you talking about, Link?" The straight, dark eyebrows of Grant twitched upward in confusion as the hero unintentionally mumbled the words aloud. Link looked back at him with equal bewilderment and shook his mind free of the millions of thoughts pounding down on him.
"Nothing, nothing…where are we going?" Link asked vacantly, his attention seeming to be diverted by the rush and commotion of the four races.
"We need to get you medical help, Link. You've just been through Hell," Grant replied seriously.
"But what about Zelda, and Fin? Where is Fin?" Link's tone became frantic as he pivoted around searching in a kind of desperation. Grant saw his legs tremble then fail him and quickly grabbed a hold of Link to keep him from falling.
"The Princess has been taken t' the castle for treatment, Link, with Impa and the rest, remember now? Now come on, we need to get you there too."
"Not without Fin, where is she?" Link's voice was still desperate and Grant thought he had lost his mind.
"Who'r you talking bout, Link?" Grant asked, perplexed.
"What do you mean 'who am I talking about'? Loraefin! You saw her!" Link was almost ranting now and the other soldiers gathered around began to stare. Link's features suddenly fell from this worked up frenzy and halting stared down at his hands and felt the weight of the Master Sword on his back.
"Sweet Nayru, what have I done?" He sobbed unexpectedly, but Grant was there to snap him out of it.
"Shut up'n get moving! You're exhausted and you need help!" he barked, ignoring Link's pleas for someone he didn't know. Grant was sure the battle must have driven him mad. Who was he talking about? There was no one in the Temple other than he and the Sages. Link suddenly swung around and punched him in the jaw, knocking Grant flat on his arse in his struggle to get free and go back to the Temple. Grant, still reeling from the hero's solid fist, quickly jumped up and with the aid of two more soldiers grabbed and restrained Link by the arms and held him firm. Rubbing his jaw sorely, Grant glared fiercely at him.
"If you don't get your damn act together I'll carry you to the castle myself Link! Now get your ass moving!" Grant feared for Link, not only his health, but his sanity too, which seemed to be wavering. Link had become dazed and confused and sagged in the other soldiers' arms and the young, dark hair soldier's expression turned from irritated to concern in an instant while he gazed upon the Hero of Time.
"Great Farore, what'd they do to you?" Grant said quietly, swearing an oath under his breath and taking the place of the man on Link's left, began to walk him to a horse. "No worries now Link, we'll get you fixed right up."
Link's walk was stumbling almost, a humbling sight for the young soldier of nineteen who looked upon Link as the legend he was. Grant had been in the temple when all had taken place, when the Master Sword had lit up with a brilliant light and Link had struck down the Evil King Ganondorf. If you spoke to him of the strange creature whom the legendary blade had pierced though, he would look at you strangely and ask what you were talking about. There had never been a young woman in the middle of the battle…that would be absurd.
Link insisted on riding a horse of his own to the castle, but the weariness from his trials finally broke through his strength and he couldn't stand. The world was spinning for him and in a daze he was taken with haste for medical attention.
***
Zelda was so overcome with weariness that she did not recollect the time it took her to reach her chambers in the castle, or how she came to be there, for that matter. Her head was splitting and every fiber in her body was sapped of strength it seemed. It took her several minutes of concentrating just to find the will to roll over and face the newly stoked fire in the hearth. An old woman bent over her, moistened her forehead with a damp cloth, then smoothed her long gold tresses back away from her face and neck. Zelda vaguely remembered the face, knew it was someone she had seen many times before, but her mind was in too much of a torrent of blindness that she could not dredge up the memories.
"Hush, child. Rest now," the old voice spoke softly, cupping Zelda's face once the hair had been dealt with. Zelda blinked and tried to stir, but all limbs felt weighted down and she could not move.
"Is…is it over? Have we won?" Zelda managed to force out through parched lips. Until now she did not notice her burning thirst. The old woman seemed to know her thoughts, as a water ladle was promptly at her lips and the cool, refreshing liquid was running down her ravaged throat.
"'Tis all over child, do not think more," the woman insisted, watching carefully the speed in which the princess drank. "It seems the Goddesses have granted us another miracle this day."
Zelda sank into her pillows and tried to collect her thoughts, which by the minutes were starting to slowly clear again. She remembered Ganondorf crushing her, his hands on her body (reality was coming to life again as she felt the dull throbs where he had held her now), and Link trying valiantly to save her.
"Where is my father? I must see him," Zelda said with new energy and tried to sit up, but her elder caretaker gently pushed her back down again for which she was partially glad. The motion of sitting upright had left her head spinning.
"Yer not strong enough, Milady. Rest now," she said again, a misty glimmer in her eyes, and turned away quickly, before Zelda could see the sorrow there. The old woman was not fast enough however.
"Where is my father?" Zelda asked once more just as the chamber door opened and Saria entered, followed by Captain Viscen. Zelda could see the upset in them too and she could feel her heart quiver.
"Captain Viscen, how goes my father? Is he well?" Grasping to hope, Zelda clutched the bed covers as Viscen's mouth pinched into a straight line and he exchanged glances at both Saria and the old women.
"The King is dead, your majesty," said the Captain solemnly, still hovering in the doorway, his features etched in the firelight. Zelda didn't hear the words at first, but then her line of vision shot down and saw the crown he held in his rough soldier's hands.
The familiar taste of bile bubbled up in the back of Zelda's throat as waves of hot tears stung down her face with abandon. Collapsing back onto the bed, she fell into a fit from which she could not be consoled, and continued to cry until there were no more tears to give.
***
Nabooru walked despondently through the halls; her temper strung so tightly that any people who got in her way would find themselves knocked against the wall. Even though the battle had been won, something still left her with an uneasy feeling clenching in her gut that she could not explain. Something felt…missing.
She remembered Impa lying stricken on the ground, she remembered Ganondorf slowly squeezing the life out of Princess Zelda, and she remembered a girl…Nabooru stopped. A girl? in the middle of the battle against the Evil King? Where had that come from? Shaking her head at her own foolish fantasies, the Lone Wolf pushed the made-up memory away.
Zora generals were keeping a tight reign on their disciplined troops and the Gorons stood with their great, lumbering bodies, conversing in both wild and subdued gestures. Everyone was hungry for news, and those who were fit to tell the tale were not speaking.
Along the halls and shoving past careless people did Nabooru advance until she caught hold of a Hylian guard by the helm and held him firmly.
"Where did they take him!?" She demanded of the guard, who looked at her angrily.
"Take who?" He replied gruffly, jerking himself free of her grasp.
"Ganondorf! Where did they take him?" Nabooru spat impatiently, tossing her long carmine colored hair. The guard's expression suddenly changed as his gaze raked over her once and he recognized who she was.
"Beggin' your pardon, Sage," he said, clearing his voice of anger, "the body's been taken to the western keep. Better able to guard him up there."
Without a thank you, or an apology, Nabooru took off in the direction the Hylian guard had pointed her in.
Now she would see for herself what kind of condition her once king had been left in. With a sick thought Nabooru thought she should blind him, just as he had blinded Impa. An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth, wasn't that how the old saying went?
The stairway that led up to the western most tower of the castle was devoid of living souls until she reached the last of the steps, where the walkway opened up to a landing with a door… A very heavy door that could not be gotten into or out of easily. The knights that had been assigned to the watch were the King's most loyal and skilled, Nabooru noticed with some satisfaction. Recognizing immediately who she was, the four men regarded her coolly, though it did not keep them from resting an easy hand against their sword hilts. Nabooru secretly smiled to herself a little more.
"Let me in," she said just as coolly, reining in her churning anger and hiding it behind a mask of calmness. The large, fair-headed knight looked down at her, calculating it seemed, and kept his face expressionless.
"I'd be breaking my oath by denying to do as a Sage commands, but I fear I must at least ask you your intentions before I consider it." He said. Nabooru, despite herself, admired the man for his courage. Harkinian was certainly blessed to have men such as these to follow him. A pang of sorrow hit her again as the thought of this, for now the King was dead and his men had lost their great leader. Nabooru could respect that, just as she had grown to respect him.
"I want to see him," Nabooru's tone ordered testily. "Open this door."
When the men did not, Nabooru took a step back and folded her arms across her chest and sighed heavily.
"What? Do you think that because I'm Gerudo that I'm going to do something?" Venom peeked out through her voice. "I said open this door!"
The men looked from one to the other, and then back to the towering blond knight barricading the door. With some reluctance he stepped aside and gave Nabooru entrance to the chamber. Nabooru stalked through as he held it open for her and she stopped a few feet into the door. Half a dozen other men-at-arms stood rigidly around the perimeter of the room and were staring at the Gerudo woman with slight surprise.
"Easy boys," the Spirit Sage said casually. "You've done a fine job, but now it's my turn. You can wait outside."
They hesitated, but consented and filed out of the room with discipline, leaving her alone. The big blond knight shut the door behind them with a heavy thud. The sound made Nabooru's heart leap. She then turned her eyes slowly to the motionless figure laying bound on the table and her pulse began to beat a little faster. She could hear his shallow breathing from the doorway and watched the rise and fall of his chest for some time before she made the decision to move. He looked peaceful, she thought, and then resented him for that peacefulness with bitter fury. His skin was illuminated by the partial amount of torches lit around the walls, and Nabooru could still see that it had become the same tone as hers once more, golden and browned by the sun, like their people were supposed to be.
Our people…Nabooru thought sourly as the idea occurred to her again. He was no longer Gerudo in her eyes, aside from everything else he had done he had betrayed his Nation first.
Without even thinking of her actions, Nabooru raised a hand and brought it down as a tight back fist across the fallen king's face. While her sudden burst of anger had left her heart pounding and her breath quick, it did not move the strange, dark form lying on the table, though she had struck him with all her might. Her hand sorely throbbing, Nabooru turned and left the room, unable to look at him any further… a part of her still unable to face him.
***
One of the women had been sent by the soldiers to tend to a body they had brought in. According to them it was not a pretty thing to behold, sword wound through the gut. Yet she was used to such things. As a midwife, healing woman, and witness to as much fighting as she'd seen in her lifetime, there was no wound she had not already seen inflicted on the mortal body. The castle infirmary was certainly livelier than usual, but no serious injury past a twisted ankle and a few cuts and bruises seemed to be the problem.
And yet something happened to this young lad… The woman thought as she left the main infirmary chamber, laden with her materials for preparing the dead, and made her way to the second door on the right of the back rooms. These were the rooms reserved for the dead, used to keep bodies from sight.
This had been a young one; she remembered as she opened the door inwards and prepared herself for the task. She found the room empty though, not even touched. Scratching her head, thinking she must have heard the soldiers wrong on what room it was, she picked up her things and went to the next room, then the next, and then the next. She found nothing in each. Curious, she left back into the main chamber again and pulled a doctor aside.
"Did ye hear about the one man they brought in? I was ta treat him, but he's no in any of the back rooms there." She motioned back, and the doctor's eyes followed her hand.
"Why would they have brought him back there? Why wouldn't he be out here with the rest?" He asked. The matronly woman looked back at him with slight surprise and pinched her lips.
"Why, they ain't goin'ta put out the dead with the living, ye know that," she replied. "But like I've said, there be no one back there."
"Well of course there's not, no one's died here today, Lilla," it was he who was surprised now, but turned and left to tend to another patient. Lilla followed him, trailing in his wake.
"Then why'd they tell me so? I know I didna hear 'em wrong," she persisted. "They says there'd be a body ta tend to."
"I'm not sure what they told you Lilla, but I can tell you for certain that not one person has been brought in here with more than a injured ankle, let alone dead. Could you hand my that clean cloth over there?"
The woman did as she was asked then left him, shaking her head in disbelief.
"Mayhaps me 'earins goin' sooner than I expected," she sighed. Perhaps she had heard wrong? Doubtable, she was getting older, but not that old, but what was there to do? There was no body to be found.
***
The commotion from the battle made slipping in and out with his burden easy. Outside now in the calm summer air, the dark figure secured it's load across his horse's back, then mounted up in front of it. A second horse was with him, it to burdened with a lifeless body. With a wordless command the horse took off at an easy pace, eventually gaining speed as they drew farther and farther away. As they reached the last crest of hill before the view of Hyrule Castle would drop from sight, the horse halted and it's rider looked back. The only noise was the soft chirp of crickets and the gentle breeze in the air, which was still slightly damp from the fading presence of the storm.
The man turned his gaze to the bundles slung across his horses' flanks behind and beside him and the marred jaw clamped tightly.
"Aye, Vandac, the world has turned upside-down it seems," he said softly and urged the animal on again, riding him into the forest and disappearing into the shadows of the wood.
AN: I hope the fact that Loraefin's memory is beginning to fade has somehow made itself known in this jumble. Just thought it would be nice to clarify that just in case. Really, that's supposed to be more of the under or side plot, while the actions and events that happen with the other characters are more important. The next chapter is nearly finished, and I'm hoping to get it done soon. Ever notice how what music you happen to be listening to at the time really influences the mood of your writing? Well, I'll just say that Glam Rock from 'Velvet Goldmine' isn't the greatest thing for me to be listening to right now…it's just so addictive though! Need to get back to Mists of Avalon or my Lord of the Rings soundtracks. Actually, in 'Waar Jiwtu' (Good Night My Daughter, same thing…) the rape scene basically plays along with 'The Cave Ceremony' and Loraefin's vision of Din in 'the Half Moon' is 'The Mystic's Dream'. So for any of you Mists of Avalon fans…
I'll stop now…