AN: I finally got this chapter finished! Whoop! :D My apologies to all of you who have been waiting ever so patiently for this. I only wish I had more time to spend on this, but school unfortunately isn't being too nice at the moment. Somehow I've been put in charge of organising nearly the entire of my year's Christmas Fair, and on top of that I've spent nearly all of today doing my English homework. Anyway, enough of me blabbering. Enjoy!
Chapter 5:
To receive a summoning from her father was out of the ordinary to say the least, but to be sent to his chambers was something that Zelda couldn't quite believe. She knew fully well that her father's quarters had been uninhabited for some time now. He hadn't even gone there to rest in the few minutes of solitude he suffered so laboriously. Zelda wondered what could have possibly forced him to retreat to the seclusion of the west wing. The sudden thought that he might have become indisposed caused her to quicken her pace. Another loss was something she couldn't bear.
The tall climb through the tower faded away with the spiralling stairwell, one step becoming another. The door appeared before her, and hesitantly Zelda extended her hand to knock the smooth wooden panel. But something stopped her. She tried again to bring herself to softly tap the door, but her hand remained paralysed in the still air. A growing fear of reprimand proved to be invading the small thoughts of illness. Nearly every encounter with her father had led to a severe reproach, and it had been something Zelda had wanted to avoid for many years, out of sheer irritation and laziness to tolerate it anymore. A desire for Impa to be accompanying her now entered into Zelda's mind, but she knew that she was no longer a child.
Before she knew it, the back of her hand rapped against the door, and she was admitted inside. Her father's lying eyes were still devoid of rest as he smiled at her, bidding her to sit down. He retreated to one of his sofas, letting his bulky body sink gratefully into the soft cushions, while Zelda placed her slender frame opposite, attentive and upright.
"How have you been, Zelda?" he asked. "I haven't managed to see you many times these past few weeks. Business has kept me confined to my study, you see, and I apologise for not dining with you on many occasions. I have been unable to leave - something always wanted looking over, or required a signature. But time has granted me this small liberty. I feared I would be interrupting something of importance to you, but it appears agreeable to you to spend some time with your old father."
"I am as well as anyone in the castle, father. Impa awakened me this morning, and I came immediately," was her short reply.
His manner served as enough confirmation that illness was far from being evident. All that remained then was the purpose of this visit. Her father would not spend time with her willingly if he had the choice; their history together was enough to secure that in Zelda's mind.
"I'm glad," he said, slightly surprised at the brief answer. "I trust you have spent your days well?"
His questions came as something forced, but Zelda did not think it prudent to oppose his attempt to have a conversation. "Yes, father," she said calmly.
"How is…umm." He faltered awkwardly. "Has your grieving…passed?" As if expecting to be harmed, he winced as he looked at his daughter.
Zelda was taken aback by the oddly spoken question. "Father." Her hands tightened into fists, clutching her dress at her knees. "I have no wish to speak of that now. I beg you to please speak of something else."
"Dear, I was…I was only asking - "
She couldn't take his fumbling hesitance any longer.
"Well, you don't have to ask! It's been barely a month since Link was taken away from me! How could you even presume that I've finished grieving? How could you! Are you that ready for me to move on? If so, you're mad I tell you - Link was everything to me - you knew that! I thought you understood what our love was - I thought you gave us your consent to be happy. Only you," she said maliciously, "you sent Link to his death - you killed him. You murdered our happiness, and you're asking me whether I've finished grieving?"
Zelda's face had grown red and wet with hot, angry tears running freely down her face. The entire time her shoulders trembled as she kept her face tilted downward, hiding her furious temper in a miserable attempt from her father. Was it his purpose to make her feel wretched? It was the same every time her father tried to talk to her. Everything had always ended in a raging flourish of tears. But the bite in Zelda's words repeated themselves over and over, and as she continued to weep, her single shred of sympathy prevented her from storming out of the tower.
She knew he was an uneasy man, daunted quite easily by her erratic disposition, and she wanted to apologise, but her pride did not allow such a possibility at that moment. It had been her father that had ripped them apart, forcing them to become eternally separated; but upon a deeper reflection, he had not been the murderer. Zelda had no right to blame him, yet he was the only one she could blame. It was always easy to shift the blame onto someone else. It was less painful.
The tone of her words had been the delayed force the King had anticipated, yet each time they cut through his defences, tearing deeper at his already tattered spirit. He looked on as his daughter covered her face with her hands, cringing at the helpless state he found himself in. He wanted to say he was sorry; he wanted to be able to comfort her like Impa had always done; he wanted to help her; but at that moment there was nothing he could possibly do.
He sighed quietly, feeling the weight of his burden increase tenfold. He was going to have to tell her - tell her that she was to be married within the month to a man who would bring as much ruin to Hyrule as he would good. He was determined to tell her, at least…something.
"Zelda," he said rising. The King knelt before her and gently placed his hand upon her trembling shoulder. "Dearest Zelda, spring is almost upon us." She looked up, her hands dropping to her lap, her eyes twinkling in the sunlight. "The winter passed away long ago."
Her lips quivered, and suddenly Zelda threw her arms around her father's neck. The edges of the King's mouth rose slightly as he cradled his darling daughter in his arms. Only the goddesses knew how he had managed to be granted this moment of consolation, but he was happy. Happy, that he had taken another step in becoming Zelda's friend. Being her father was important, but outside the castle walls there would be no one to take care of her, not even Impa. He must do all that he can for her, while there was still time.
"Zelda," he said again, "may I ask you one more thing?"
"What is it, father?"
"I need…to tell you something. You are - " He paused. "You are - "
"Sire! Your presence is requested at the front gate!" an abrupt voice said anxiously from outside.
The King's eyes closed tightly, damning and praising the innocent fool at the same time. Zelda quickly drew away, her breathing still irregular and unsteady as she vainly tried to compose herself, achieving a less than persuasive serenity. The feeling of embracing her father was something she had yet to become accustomed to; convulsive actions on the other hand were all partially familiar. There had been an apology on the tip of her tongue, but the words never came. Her innate obstinacy had gotten the better of her. It dissolved in her mouth, lost and forgotten. But the anger she felt, having to force her father to suffer her harsh words without being released from her fury, it was something she couldn't forgive herself for. Every second passed, and each one was taken in silence.
Her father removed himself from her, taking a single glance back at his uneasy daughter, the sorrow and hurt alive in his tired eyes. The door creaked open and the King sighed heavily,
"What is the matter, sergeant?"
"T-two Gerudo have been captured in the Castle grounds and we request your orders, your highness."
"Detain them immediately and seal them in the dungeon," he said with an evidently forged tranquillity.
The soldier quaked in his armour, hurried his reply with a bow and shuffled and clattered back down the steps of the tower. The King's anger was not something that one wanted to wait for. Numerous times his voice could be heard booming through the corridors, and the soldier, along with many others, often felt little envy for the Princess Zelda. Despite their menial position, at least they were not subjected to bear the King's wrath. Sometimes they wondered how she could withstand it all.
The King held the door in his hand, his eyes fixed upon the descent. This conversation could never be recalled again. His courage was gone.
"I must go," he said, moving his glazed eyes back to his daughter. "I'm sorry, Zelda."
He turned to go, easing the door open quietly. Zelda's lip dropped in an effort to say something, anything to let her father know that she was sorry. She had never meant to say those cruel words, and her heart ached to see him so intolerably depressed. Her eyes had become wet again, and whether the door had closed or not, she could not say.
"Please…forgive me, father. Please," she inhaled sharply, "forgive me."
Nothing but the bird song was to comfort her whispers in that moment. It sang a sweet, melancholy song from somewhere far away, and Zelda wiped away her tears. The door swayed to-and-fro in the darkness, empty of stature and dominion. The King had gone, never hearing a word that Zelda had uttered so desperately.
Long into the darkening hours of the night Zelda remained in the tower. However long she cried, it would not compose her. Crossing to the window, Zelda sat and starred out across the landscape, dim in its midnight hues. Resting her head against her arms, the moonlight shone across the fields, washing the earth in a glistening silver robe that swept away all the bloodshed and destruction in one tender sweep. The traces of the fiery sunset had long dispersed, giving way to the dark, romantic shades of a lover's paradise. It had once been said that the Kokiri came out to play when the sun went down, dancing and singing in the woodlands, free as any living creature. But that was to be no more, as the forests now lay in ruin, empty of such legendary children.
But the effects of the war were not something that was pleasing to dwell upon. So many times, the ardent wish of the princess was to escape the castle walls, living mysteriously to the passing stranger, perhaps enduring the task of an adventure into the woods; anything to take her far away into a land of dreams and fantasy. For now though, all was well in Hyrule. Nothing could offer her even the slightest excitement or expectation. As she looked down upon the town, every small, box shaped light was extinguished from the houses down below and gradually, all of the Market Square was in darkness, warm in the comfort of their family, unafraid of anything.
She wished she hide herself in the courtyards, but in some hope of her father's return, Zelda delayed any thought of restoring herself to the main body of the castle. Not even the evanescent smells from the kitchens could tempt her to wonder from her station. She could do without food for one evening. A smile flickered on her lips, daring break through the downtrodden exterior to be shown to the blue vaults of heaven. Tomorrow she would no doubt have some hurried lecture about her health, the head cook insisting that she must eat at least three times a day. Her stomach growled in agreement, but the hungry desire soon passed. Eating would do no good. It was her heart that was empty.
But seeking her father now would only distress him further. Nearly every servant and soldier was in need of the King. The capture of two Gerudo was something that no one had been prepared for, and Zelda's father seemed the only competent man to be able to deal with the problem there and then. But then even the King was out of practise. He had relied too much on Link to manoeuvre the operations of the castle, immersing himself, far more than necessary, in the financial affairs of the kingdom to care about anything else.
However, the appearance of the thieves began to occupy Zelda's thoughts for much of the remaining evening. How they had escaped the Gerudo Valley was a marvel in itself. Before the war, when Hyrule's army was in its glorious prime, the Gerudos had been condemned to their valley, their race stained with the darkness of Ganondorf. Never was another Gerudo to enter into the meadows and plains of Hyrule. Fate had exiled them from humanity, the small mistake of one birth plunging them into non-existence. The long-felt fear was that another man such as Ganondorf would arise from them, and this was not only among the Hylians. Both the Gorons and the Zoras wished for the denouncement of the Gerudo tribe as well, and many long months were spent inside the castle walls debating the plan of action.
The conclusion came eventually that the bridge, joining the two cliff-faces together, was to be demolished, and that explosive would be set to trigger a landslide, blocking the entrance to the Gerudo Fortress, impassable to any species. No one was to go in or out, and for a long while, that was how it came to be. The Gerudo were so disgraced by their lineage that they happily consented to the confinement, much to Zelda's displeasure. It was not in their nature to be agreeable, and they had always made sure that they were remembered as the infamous women of Hyrule, hardy, ruthless bandits that lived the life of a scavenger. To be transformed into trapped refugees was somewhat disheartening to Zelda, and she had always disapproved of the exile. It had been the subject of one of the many arguments with her father, and Zelda remembered it well. No matter what excuse he gave her, it was a deplorable victory, justified in every heart but two.
A cold wind blew across her face, brushing her blonde hair over her shoulders, awakening Zelda from her musings. The sound of footsteps crept silently from beyond the closed door, and every feeling was alight with reassurance. As the door opened, Zelda spun around in her seat, smiling inwardly that she could now dispel the pain that she had seen in her father's eyes; but the door revealed something that instantly stole away any feeling of composure.
The two Gerudo stood poised in the entrance, their eyes narrow and vigilant. Behind them stood her father, but Zelda could not see his averted face. A stab of fear struck through her body, restraining any limb from movement, ensnaring her in the chair. Without warning, the women lunged toward her, clutching her arms, drilling their sharp nails into the Princess' flesh, catching her stifled scream in a rag, and rhythmically pounding her face in a dizzy, blackening circle.
She fell to the floor, dazed and confused. Was this the excitement she had longer for? If it was, she wanted nothing to do with it. The women hung the slumped Princess Zelda over their shoulders and looked toward the miserable man who held a chinking leather bag in his palm of his hand. They snatched it from him and turned toward the window. One took a long coil of rope from around her waist and began tying it furiously to the ceiling beam. With a final grin, the Gerudo thieves hopped out of the window with their captive and slid effortlessly down the rope that would take them to the Royal Forest, leaving the King alone to collapse and cry aloud in his chambers.
Hououza: Yep, that basically sums up this so far , but don't worry, I haven't done anything about Link's Triforce yet, so stay tuned to find out :D
serenitythefaierikin: Thank you! Things are going to start getting hairy indeed, and I hope you stick around for it.
Vampiress24: Ah yes, I see what you mean. Thanks for the heads up :D At a later point in time I will make sure that previous chapters are easier to navigate. I'm not going to spoil why Link is still around, so you'll have to wait for that one. Sorry! XD
Niamh nic Raghnall: Oh, you changed your name! :D Very original! I like it. Sorry about bugging you to review XD. In answer to your question though, Link is not alive, but he's not dead either Oo. I just love to be confusing, eh? X3 And as always, you're comments are helpful, no matter how nagging they are . I thought when I read your first review that I'd fallen back into bad habit, but I will indeed make things clearer in future.
AN: If I'm not dead from organising this fair on Friday, you may see a chapter appear sooner. But then again, the people in my year are not exactly giving me bundles of confidence at the moment Oo. Ah well, we'll see how things turn out.