5 – Pumpkinheads, Potions & Parties

Candlestick in one hand, tears of hot melted wax pooling beside her fingers, Ruto ran down the winding staircase of Hyrule Castle, her other hand trailing the dust-coated banister. She reached the landing and strode across, slanted moonlight peering in through the windows illuminating her path. She stopped short in front of the main guest chamber, hesitated, then pushed the large double doors open with a creak.

Myriad eyes, haggard and fraught with tension as they were, looked up as she entered. She could see the accusations in their faces, could almost feel the desperate sense of hope and rage that lay behind their tight expressions. Ruto ignored them all, walking onwards, the candle flame flickering as she tried to keep her footfalls soft. Not that it mattered how much noise she made. The children here, surrounded by anxious relatives, were not going to wake. She could hear their breathing in the hushed, almost oppressive silence. Rising and falling, rising and falling, rising and falling...

Ruto's eyes widened as she reached Zelda's bed. She could hear the mutterings of the other people as she pulled out a stool and sat herself down – some of them, the Zora knew, blamed the Shadow Lord himself. After all, what kind of husband was this man? Probably one with a volatile temper, or one who showed little to no affection to his beleaguered wife. The poor Princess! It wouldn't be surprising, they said, if either the Hero of Time or the Princess herself had brought on this illness just to be free of the other and, tragically, the children had fallen with her. Ruto, despite the indignation it caused her, knew what the people were saying and ignored them. She knew that Link and Zelda didn't care what others thought of their marriage – indeed they considered it no-one else's business but their own.

A torch crackled over the bed, weaving a pattern of swaying light over the Princess' thin face. And she did look thin, Ruto realised, unnaturally so. Her hair dull, her skin pale like it had been drained of blood, and her body almost skeletal, Zelda lay motionless with her eyes tight shut, looking desperately fragile, as though she would crumble under the tiniest breath from the wind. The unsightly scar that she'd received five years previous rose and fell as she breathed. Ruto knitted her fingers around the Princess', watching as Tingle busied himself as bedside, fussing away.

"Any change?" Ruto asked, looking up.

"None whatsoever, milady," Tingle replied, pressing a damp cloth to the Princess' brow.

"And we still don't know what – or who –caused this?"

Tingle didn't reply, choosing only to give a non-committal shrug.

"Here, give me that," the Zora said, taking the cloth from his hand. "You go get some rest."

"Very good, milady."

As Tingle shuffled off, Ruto gazed down at the Princess, wondering exactly what was going on in Zelda's mind right now.

2

Princess Zelda felt herself drowning in darkness, felt a suffocating sense of emptiness coil its way around her and then tighten with a jolt. Panic rose within her like a wave, the inkiness from without seeping in, tarring every last inch of her heart and soul. Memories and words rushed around her head – light, love, friends, sun; she was sure they each had a meaning, was sure because her heart tingled with recognition at each one, but for the life of her she couldn't remember exactly what those meanings were. It just seemed inconceivable that there existed anything except her raw soul laid bare and this deep, churning darkness. Had she really experienced anything other than this gloom, or had she merely imagined it?

The darkness spoke to her. "Come to my embrace, little one. Let yourself fall into my arms." The voice reminded her of icicles – icicles, what were those? – scraping across a frozen mist-enshrouded lake. "There's nothing else to do but fall in."

"Who are you?" she breathed.

"I love you," the voice replied. "You will find no other love, no other sweet caress, except through me."

And she was tempted. She was sorely tempted, so much so that her lips almost formed the word 'yes.' The voice offered her no warmth, no comfort, but it seemed real – the only thing that was real - and it seemed like an escape. She opened her mouth to reply –

And then the world bloomed to life – all colour and noise and life – like the opening of a rose at spring's first light. She found herself standing on the rise of a hill, yellow flowers swaying by her feet, and peered down at a vast lake of rippling crimson liquid that glistened as the sun beat down on it. She remembered this...it was a man-made lake; a reservoir to store Red Potion – but hadn't it dried up years and years ago? Zelda looked down at herself and almost gasped in shock. She was small. She was young. And, then, like a puppet tugged on a string, the memory took over...

"What are you doing?" the little Princess said, her lips pursed primly.

Little Link let out an exasperated sigh as he rummaged about on the ground, planks of wood and bars of metal littered at his feet. "Stop poking me, will you?"

Zelda jabbed a chubby finger into Link's arm. "But what are you doing?"

Link stood up straight. "I," the Hero of Time said, "am making a whistle. A special whistle that only I can hear."

Zelda put a hand over her brow to protect her eyes from the glaring sun. "Why?"

"It's for you," he replied. "So that when you get into trouble, you can call me quickly."

The Princess felt an odd sensation in her stomach, as though her insides were light and fluttering, and felt her cheeks burn. She didn't like the feeling – or did she? For some reason she wanted to hug the Hero, but she wasn't going to let him know that. "I don't need you to help me, you...you...you pumpkinhead!"

Link reeled, shock blossoming on his face. "How dare you!" he cried, drawing his sword. He waved it about wildly. "Take that back or I'll punctuate you!"

"Puncture." Little Zelda stood still, her back regally stiff, one hand on her hip, one eyebrow raised, one foot tapping, and looking very very unimpressed. "Anyway, you won't hurt me."

Link scowled, waving his blade some more. After a moment, he lowered the weapon. "How do you know I won't hurt you?"

"Because!" the Princess replied, not exactly sure why herself.

"Because?" Link replied, bewildered.

"Because!"

"Because what!"

"Because you're a pumpkinhead, that's why!"

Faced with this unbreachable wall of pure logic, the pint-sized Hero of Time could do nothing but relent, scowling all the while. Zelda sidled up to him, grinning as she pulled a thin strip of black of cloth from her pocket. Link eyed the said item suspiciously. "What's that for?"

"We're going to play a game...I'm going tooooooo... blindfold you!" And before he could protest, the Princess had already wrapped the cloth around his eyes and tied it tight.

"Hey, hey, hey!" Link shouted, stumbling as he flung his hands out. "Geroffme!"

Zelda grinned some more, clearly pleased with her accomplishment. "Now I am going to go and hide, and you-"

She looked up quickly as a twig snapped somewhere nearby. Gasping, she took a step back as a dark shadowy shape peeled itself off of the ground, its face indistinct except for two rows of grinning needle-like teeth.

"What's happening?" Link cried, grasping at thin air. "What's happening?"

Slowly the shadow creature turned to the Hero, then raised its darkly transparent arms, claws springing free from where its hands should have been. Without even a moment's hesitation, the Princess leapt in front of Link, one arm flung out protectively, and glared at the creature. "Go away!"

"My love..." the shadow creature said, "Embrace me and fall in.."

Somewhere, an older, wiser Princess Zelda frowned – this wasn't how this particular memory went, she mused. The creature hadn't said those words at all.

The little Princess spun around, her skirt swirling around her legs, then pulled Link's sword free from his hands, turned around and, with all her strength, flung it straight at the creature. It hit home, and the creature howled as it sank to the ground, melting back into the earth, then vanishing in a puff of curling purple smoke.

Zelda fell to her knees, breathing wildly. It was then that she began to tremble, hot salty tears stinging her eyes. It was only then that she realised how terrified she'd been. She sniffled, wiping her nose and eyes with her sleeve and trying desperately not to cry.

There was a yell from behind her. Then a splash. Zelda's head snapped up. "Link!"

She turned around. Link wasn't there.

She ran over the top of the hill and peered down. She gasped.

Her heart drumming in time to the thump of her feet on the ground, Zelda rushed down to the lake's edge. "Link?"

Lying flat on his back with arms and legs outstretched, the blindfold now lost, the Hero of Time bobbed up and down on the lake's surface, a strange dreamlike expression on his smiling face. "Ohhhhh... " he slurred, " thaaaaat tassstess goood." He burped for added effect.

Zelda folded her arms, frowning, the liquid lapping gently at her feet. "Get out of the water, Link."

"I can shee a pink Ganon floating in the air from here."

The Princess pursed her lips. "You can't see a pink Ganon, Link."

The Hero of Time shook his head. "I'm shertain I can. Look! He's wearing a dressh!"

"Ganon is not wearing a dress, Link."

"Ish!"

"Isn't!"

"Ish!"

Zelda balled her hands into fists. "You can't get...get...get-" what was the word? Oh, yes –"get drunk on Red Potion, you pumpkinhead!"

Link raised his head, staring at her quizzically. "You look like a mushroom," he said with a cast-iron sense of finality. He gave a small wave. "Ello, Prinshesh Toadshtool."

Closing her eyes, the little Princess shook her head in mock-despair.

"I was so scared!" Zelda said later that night, sitting beside the hearth as her mother stoked the raspy fire with a poker. "But I still did it! I jumped in front of Link so the thing couldn't get him!"

Her mother, a tall, thin woman with an angular, almost crystalline face gave a short smile. "Well," she said. "I'm angry with you and pleased with you."

Zelda, hugging her legs as the fire warmed her face, waited for her mother to continue, chewing her lower lip all the while.

"I'm angry that you went to play without telling Impa where you were going." She stabbed the fire some more, flecks of ash ghosting up into the air, then turned to look at her daughter with another smile. "But I'm very very pleased with your bravery." Her eyes seemed to go distant for a moment, the glow of the fire reflected therein. "We all wish for a friend that would truly define the word friendship for us. We all wish for someone to be so selflessly attached to us. And yet we forget that if we want a friend like that, we should first be a friend like that."

The little Princess frowned as she tucked one stray lock of hair behind her ear. "I don't understand."

Her mother stood, smoothed down her dress, then favoured Zelda with another warm smile. "I know you don't, darling. You didn't even think about it, you just did it."

"I still don't understand." Something in the air shifted, and when the Princess looked down at herself she found that she was suddenly older – about fifteen – and standing in the Palace courtyard, a stuffed effigy swinging from gallows in front of her. The memory flooded back...

"What don't you understand?" Link growled, hands on his hips. His voice echoed around the courtyard, rising to where, far above on the ramparts, oily-black birds cawed as they watched the scene unfold under a grey sky pregnant with rain.

The young Princess had to bite down the irritation she felt at the Hero's gruff manner. It's not his fault, she reminded herself as the cold breeze picked up, flicking at her hair. It had been years since the incident with the memory charm and he'd virtually become a different person since then. He'd hidden himself away in that time – 'studying' he said – and only came to the Palace now and then to train others in swordplay.

"I don't understand why I have to stab the thing so hard," she said, poking the effigy with her wooden blade. It spun slowly under the touch, squeaking, a like a ball of thread unwinding. "I mean, if it were real, it would have died!"

Link gave a snort of frustration as he rolled his eyes. "That's the whole point, love!" Zelda winced at the term, trying to still her anger. "What would you have us do on the battlefield? Stop to have a quick chat? Have some tea and a plate of biscuits?"

"No, I'd...I'd-"

"What?"

The conversation was cut off by the sound of hooves ringing through the air. The Princess spun around – and gasped, her hand touching her chest. Prince Loreth of the tiny republic of Sheshen gazed down at her from his horse, his flowing black hair framing a chiselled and handsome face. He held out a hand. "Princess?"

She knew what this was about. She knew what he was going to ask. But she still couldn't stop her heart from fluttering widly. "Yes?" She didn't take his hand – out of the corner of her eye she saw her mother gazing down from a window, no doubt playing both chaperone and observing to see if the Princess kept her propriety.

The Prince smiled. "Fair lady," he said, almost making Zelda gasp. "I see you are well; it gladdens my heart." Pausing so that she could nod a confirmation, he went on, "I realise this may be a little forward but..." He cleared his throat, and in that moment Zelda felt her heart leap again. "...I wonder if you'd do me the honour of accompanying me to tonight's festivity?" He glanced over at Link, then looked back to the Princess. "That is, if you've not already made a prior engagement?"

"No...I mean, yes..." Pumpkinhead! she chided herself inwardly. Get a hold of yourself! "No, I haven't made a prior engagement, and yes I'd love to go with you."

The Prince smiled a dazzling smile. "Then...come and embrace the darkness. Let yourself fall in."

"What?" Zelda said, blinking as she snapped back to the memory.

"Then...take this rose as a token of my affection." Zelda took a sharp intake of breath as the Prince gently pushed the sweet-scented flower, all scarlet petals and emerald stem, into her hand. He bowed his head. "Until tonight, fair one." With a tug of the reins, the Prince's horse trotted away.

Zelda sighed deeply, grinning as she pushed the flower against her skin, then spun around – to see Link glaring at her, an odd expression dancing on his face.

"I thought you weren't going with anyone," he said.

"I have to go with someone," she explained, "the whole point of the gathering is for young couples to meet under their parent's eyes with the intention of marriage. You know that." And, of course, her earlier foolish 'marriage' to the Hero would have to be annulled, especially if she was matched to someone who would bring fortune to the Kingdom. "I, of course," she said, trying to sound haughty, "am the most desired of all the girls going tonight."

Link ignored the jibe. "So, you're going with him, then?"

Suddenly tiring of the Hero's constant criticisms, the Princess felt her shoulders sag, a heaviness falling upon her eyes, "I don't see what it has to do with you."

Link folded his arms across his chest. "So, you're going with him, then?"

"So what if I am?" Zelda felt her eyes blaze, felt the curious mixture of hope and sheer hatred she felt whenever she was in Link's presence. And beneath it all were her memories. Memories of a friendship long dead.

"Just like a fairy-tale, is it?" the Hero asked, breaking into her thoughts. "You'll be all dressed up in your elaborate and probably pathetic gown just to make you look a little more than ordinary while your Prince – he'll straight from one of those dreamy slush songs the minstrels crow about, won't he?" She couldn't understand his anger and inwardly she suspected that neither could he. Link went on, "You know what's wrong with those particular type of fairy-tales?"

The Princess felt her cheek twitch. "Pray tell."

The Hero of Time took a deep breath. "The misguided individuals who inscribe those things know fully well the notions their fancy tales of daring-do put into pretty little heads – the notion that all they have to do is look a tad comely and pretend to be nice-" he said the last with a grimace "- and all the wenches will fall at their feet, thinking their prince has finally come because they're under the erroneous notion that their heart tells them what's right. But it doesn't!" Zelda almost jumped at the sudden spike of heat in his voice. "Our hearts, unless they've tamed and purged of our petty little egos, only tell us what we want at the expense of everybody else."

The Princess felt her mind whirl. Slowly she said, "True as that may be, but not if we use our heads instead. After all, am I not the Princess of Wisdom?"

"Our heads?" Link said, clearly not finished. "If you want to see everything in a cool, calculating, detached way, maybe. But if we use our heads and hearts together – that's when we can make a meal of this little thing we call life. Our poor pretty little wenches, on the other hand, after they've served their purpose to said misguided individuals find themselves lonely, bitter and thinking there's no such thing as love, because – since they didn't use both heart and head – they always, unless they're very lucky, over and over again picked the wrong person."

Zelda blinked, reeling as though she'd been physically slapped. "And you're the expert, are you?" His words had bemused, befuddled and enraged her all at the same time. "Are you?"

"I like to think I've thought things over a little, yes."

"You're just fifteen, Link!" she snapped. She knew their words were carrying in the air, knew the sly glances that were appearing at the windows. "You're not supposed to be thinking so...so...so deeply over such matters!"

Link grinned a grin that would become commonplace on his face in the years to come. "If not now, then when?" he said. "Besides," he added, changing track, "he's wrong for you."

There was desperation dancing in his eyes, but for the life of her, the Princess couldn't figure out why. "Wrong?" she said. "Why is he wrong?"

"Because!"

"Because, what!"

"Because!"

Zelda let out a breath. "I'm not a child anymore and I won't play this game." With one final glare, she turned on her heels. "Good day to you, Link."

Later that night, dressed in an elaborate and almost tent like gown, Zelda sat at the main banquet table, picking at her food, the sounds of jubilant merrymaking swimming through the air. A crystal jug of water stood on the table before her, and all she wanted to do was to take the whole thing in her hands and drink it all down in one gulp. She certainly wasn't hungry, but her throat burned and burned. She couldn't, of course. It'd be scandalous. The Prince sat beside her, smiling amiably as he chatted away. At first she'd been flattered by all his compliments and honey-coated words, but after a while he began to become tiresome. He was, she realised, a frightful bore when he had to talk about something other than her. Not only that, but he kept making surreptitious glances at his mother, who responded by giving him encouraging nods. This was, Zelda mused, turning out to be quite the disaster. Not that she'd ever admit that to Link.

The Prince's voice fading into a background hum, Zelda scanned the hall, her eyes looking past all the well-dressed and stiff-necked guests until she finally found –

She felt a strange – and inexplicable – twinge in her heart as she spotted the Hero of Time lounging against a wall, laughing easily in the midst of carefree – and no doubt, enthralling – conversation. She stared at him, willing him to look up, to turn towards her to – and then he did. The barest flicker of a glance, smouldering with some deep emotion, in her direction. Rage, probably. Or hatred. Or maybe a smug satisfaction at seeing her so completely and utterly bored. No doubt he was laughing at her; laughing at her predicament, laughing at her beautiful clothes, laughing, laughing, laughing. She hated him.

And then the Princess' heart lurched – though why it did so, she couldn't quite say - as Link's partner slipped into view. "Malon!" Zelda said, her mouth dropping open. "He came with Malon!"

"What?" the Prince asked, dazed. "Melon? You want some melon?" He clapped his hands, motioning to one of the serving boys. "Here! Melon for the Princess!"

Zelda desperately tried not to roll her eyes. She saw her mother looking at her with a disapproving scowl. She saw her maids huddled in one corner, casting glances in her direction and giggling. She saw Link look at her one last time, that odd light in his eyes. Biting down on her lip, Zelda had had enough. She lurched to her feet, her knee banging painfully against the table, and knocked the jug over, ice-cold water spilling all over her expensive dress. The hall fell silent as all eyes turned to her. Her cheeks burning, tears in her eyes, Zelda sank into her chair and gazed stubbornly at the floor. And that's the way she stayed, no matter how many times both her mother and the Prince tried to snap her out of it. All she did was listen to the steady thump thump thump of her heart.

It was well past midnight when the Princess trudged up the stairs to her bedchamber, her body racked with fatigue, her heart nothing more than a slab of lead. Lifting the hem of her dress so that it wouldn't gather dust, Zelda slowly made her way up, inwardly cursing those very same 'fairy-tales' that the Hero of Time had so eloquently critiqued earlier in the day. She stopped short. There was the sound of a bolt being pulled back and she looked up, curious, as a door to one of the guest chambers opened. Link stood framed in the open doorway, light spilling out from behind him. "I just wanted to say-"

"I know what you want to say," Zelda spat, her chest heaving with rage. A bitter surge of acid fury burned through her. She was sick of them all. Her mother, the Prince, and most of all, the Hero of Time. "Something sage and stupidly stupidly intelligent, no doubt. Something to make me feel even more of...of...of a pumpkinhead!" She almost wilted in shame – how long had it been since she'd used that particular word out loud?

Link was strangely calm as he listened to her onslaught, a soft glow in his eyes. "No, I wanted-"

"Oh, I know," Zelda cut in. "You wanted to tell me how, if it was good for the Kingdom, I should marry the Prince, no matter how much he was wrong for me."

"Well, yes," the Hero said softly. "Personal sacrifice to help others is always worthy." Too young, Zelda thought to herself, he's too young to be talking like that. She held his gaze as an uncertain smile flickered on his lips. "But that's not what I wanted to say."

"Well?" the Princess snarled. Behind her she could hear her chambermaids rushing up, wanting to see why she sounded so distressed. "What is it? Spit it out!"

The shadows rippled around her. "There is only comfort for you through me...embrace me...escape into the night." Zelda didn't hear, neither did Link. The only person that did was the older, wiser Princess, watching the memory as a disembodied observer.

"I just wanted to say," Link said, somehow not managing to meet her eyes, "that you look beautiful tonight."

And with that he closed the door in a rush, leaving a young and very confused Princess speechless on the stairs.

The shadows grew. "Embrace me!" The voice was insistent, pleading. "Give into the temptation and flee! Love! I offer you love! LET GO AND FALL IN!"

"No, not yet," the older Zelda whispered, her voice soft and quiet. "Not just yet."