Nine

When the men rode away, Damleda and I weren't the only ones crying. All the wives, mothers, sisters, daughters, and sweethearts of the many soldiers had gathered around the palace gates to wave our army off: practically all were crying. As I watched Link ride towards battle and blood, sitting tall and proud on his horse, his silver armor gleaming, riding within the king's century, I prayed to myself that he would keep his promise and return to me, return to become my king.

If he didn't, I thought, my heart would be broken one final time, beyond repair forever.

I was to run Hyrule in conjunction with the king's remaining advisors whilst my father was away. They were all men of the highest esteem, of noble blood and the greatest of military prowess, but, unfortunately, the few who remained were the few who were truly old and decrepit, old-fashioned, fixated wholly on their goddesses and the ways of their youth. Without the other advisors to moderate and mediate, this would, I knew, be quite the governing adventure. But I could do it. If I could withstand half a dozen old men, I could rule the country.

And I would, I vowed, rule.

Heart heavy, I watched the drawbridge creak back up behind the men. Some soldiers had remained at the palace to guard us- I'd prayed to the goddesses to let Link be one of them, but my father needed him out on the field and so my prayers were denied. I needed him too, though, I thought. I needed him as much as I needed water or air or food. But for now, I would manage without. I would have to... for him.

"Come on," I said to Damleda, who was wiping at her streaming eyes with a kerchief. "Let's get back to the palace."

"Of course," she replied, sniffling. "There's much for us to do, isn't there?"

"Yes," I replied solemnly. "But first, I think that we should... should take a few moments to freshen ourselves, back in my quarters."

"Yes, yes," Damleda agreed. "This horrible humidity has ruined your coiffure."

Little Rowan was lying in a scarf across her chest, as usual, dark hair ruffled from sleep, pale eyes lacking sparkle. He had picked up on his mother's restlessness and ainxiety, and let loose a discontented wail, clinging to his mother. Damleda gathered her son to her chest and the two of us set off through the crowd, back to the castle, where we excused ourselves, then expunged our grief, holding tight to one another as we cried.

"If... if Esten died, I don't know what I would do," she told me through her tears. "I can't imagine raising Rowan without him..."

"But even if something does happen to Esten, you will always have Rowan," I replied, hopless as slow, steady tears leaked down my face. "I... Link... the idea of life without him is desolate."

"He will come back for you," Damleda replied. "His life has been so empty for so long... when he didn't have you, he only fought for the glory, to remind himself of his own mortality. Now, he really does have a cause to weild his blade for. Nothing will stop him," she comfoted me.

"We can only pray," I concluded, squeezing Damleda gently one last time before pulling away, "that the Goddesses see fit to bring our men back to us quickly and in good health."

"Yes," she replied, smiling and wiping away the last of her tears. "Oh, dear. We'll have to powder our noses before we go back down, else we'll look like Lon Lon Ranch's best cows."

I laughed, which cut off with a choke, and then sat down at my vanity, retrieving my powder and allowing Damleda to attempt to rectify the slight damage to my hair.

"Everything will be fine," I told Damleda through the mirror. "The men will return, and Link and I will wed, and you and Esten will have enough children to fill all of Hyrule."

"Perhaps so," Damleda replied with a laugh, touching Rowan's messy black hair. "But for now, Rowan is enough for me to handle."

"He has grown," I stated admiringly. Damleda beamed, all motherly pride. "He has," she agreed.

And, in the mundane way of women, Damleda and I comforted ourselves with the simplicities of routine and daily life, reassuring ourselves that our men, our loves, would return to us, safe and soon.

&-

I stared into the campfire.

I wondered how she was, how she was holding up- she would be afraid, of course. I was afraid, to an extent. But I knew I had her hope and love and prayers protecting me. I would return to her, I vowed. I would return to become her king.

"Thinking about Zelda?" Esten asked me, examining his sword, which he was polishing by the light of the fire.

"Of course," I replied quietly. "And you? Are you thinking of Damleda?"

"Constantly. And I'm thinking of Rowan, too. Wondering how they're doing."

"Damleda's strong," I told him. "If anything happens to you, she'll make it by."

When we'd been rookies together, Esten and I had thought it bad luck to talk like something might happen to one of us. After our first war, we grimly acknowledged the looming possibility of death.

"Zelda is strong, too," he replied. "Stronger than either of you think."

"If I don't return, it'll kill her," I sighed. "After what has happened, she has... she has been changed, in a way that I'm afraid I'll never be able to fix."

"You love her," Esten stated simply, looking up from the sword. "And you told her."

"I did," I replied, unashamed. "I told her when I brought her back from Zora's domain."

Esten and I really had been too busy to talk lately.

"How did she take it?"

"She didn't believe me, at first. But then, she came to my room that night, demanding answers."

"You slept with her." It wasn't a question.

"No. We dreamt in the same bed, but we are going to wait."

"Good," Esten replied, looking back down to his sword. "Because if something happened to you, she'd be in large, unhealthy quantities of trouble."

I didn't bother to respond- I knew he was right.

The night was warm and quiet, but by no means was it peaceful. There was the constant sound of building as the carpenters worked on a crude fortress wall. Soldiers patrolled the perimeter of our encampment. Blades were being sharpened before fires that glutted themselves on wood. Some men cooked, some worked, some stared at the flames thinking of home. None, however, slept. None relaxed.

"How long do you think we'll be out here?" Esten asked me, looking around at the field. Our particular division was placed strategically closer to the desert, comprised of more seasoned veterans who knew what to expect. We weren't far off the river.

"Perhaps a month, perhaps more," I stated blandly. "Hopefully less. If we lay siege, it may not take too long: the summer is coming and the fortress will be lower on food as their few crops die in the heat. But then again, they may have vast reserves of food. We don't know. There aren't that many of them, though. Hopefully..."

"Hopefully we'll be back by the time that Zelda has to announce her choice to the people," Esten stated blandly. "So that you can be there, by her side."

"I don't think we'll be out of here in a week and a half." I stared into the fire, brooding and silent. Esten sighed, knowing there was nothing he could say, and returned to the blade.

The first night passed in tension, exhaustion, and finally, restless sleep in which I'm sure all the mean dreamt of home, of their women.

And I dreamt of Zelda.

&-

I rose, determined to meet the new day and exceed all expectations that anyone might have had of me. Was I just a silly, helpless, incompetent princess who goes and gets herself kidnapped? We'd see.

As I sank into the water of my morning bath, I wrapped my arms around myself, thinking back to Zora's domain, the feeling of a slow, painful awakening, wondering where I was and praying I was dead, the feeling of penetrating emptiness: emptiness of heart, of spirit, of magic. It still hadn't quite come back to me yet, the magic. It hadn't done me any good, either: it hadn't gotten me out of that cell, hadn't kept me safe, hadn't done anything at all.

I wish Link was here, I thought, pouring water over myself. I could keep him with me. He could protect me, keep me safe. He wouldn't let anyone hurt me, not him. Not Link.

And he loved me.

A smile crossed my face then, a real smile, warmth spreading through my icy heart at this. He loved me. At first, I'd thought he was just lying, that he'd been using me all along, but I'd gotten to thinking, and the truth became suspect. So I'd gone to his room, and he had proven it.

I'd been disappointed when he'd rejected me, of course- who wouldn't be?- but then I understood that, in doing that, he had truly proven his love and respect for me: in looking out for my best interests despite a loss on both our parts, he had compacted my belief in him, and made me determined to carry on, to be strong. For him.

I finished washing myself, then rose from the bath, steaming and dripping, my long locks dark and curled from the water. I dried myself off, then pulled on underclothes and went into my chambers to dress.

Damleda had already arrived and selected a dress, red, like blood, with golden shoulderpieces and a black sash that tied around the waist. She twisted my hair atop my head and helped me to dress, draping a golden locket around my neck as I carefully outlined my eyes faintly with kohl.

"You look beautiful," she told me once the job had been completed, stepping back and cradling Rowan.

"I look terrifying," I stated, admiring myself. "The red gown was a good pick."

"Yes, it was," Damleda replied, laying a hand on my shoulder. "Zelda..."

I raised my eyes to look at her, sure that the blueness of them was shocking against the brightness of my dress. "Yes?"

"You have to announce your choice to the people in a week and a half, don't you?"

"That was the original agreement," I conceded. "Though now that this has happened and father is not here, I don't know. I didn't have a chance to speak with him before he left."

"You... you are going to choose Link, aren't you?" Damleda asked, uncertain, biting her lip. I smiled.

"At the beginning of my hundred days, I was concerned with finding a man who would be a good king, or, at the very least, a good husband. I didn't believe I would find both manifest in one being- the goddesses proved me wrong.

"Even if I were to find myself a man who would be a better king than Link, I would not waver. And, I believe, no man could make a better husband to me than Link could, so my decision remains the same. I will marry Link, goddesses willing, and we will rule Hyrule side by side."

"He'll come back from the desert for you," Damleda reassured me. I closed my eyes as the pain overwhelmed me, the though of him never returning. "He loves you too much to leave you."

"He once told me," I replied, eyes still shut, "that, if it were necessary, he would undergo torture for me, kill for me, die for me. I pray it does not come to that, to being tortured: the gerudo are skilled in the art of torture and deception. I only hope they don't manage to get underneath his skin like they did mine, and convince him that his death will mean my life."

"Link knows you are safe now," Damleda replied, comforting. "He won't give in. Don't worry, Zelda. He won't let them take him."

"We can only pray," I replied, and then stood, touching Rowan's dark, curly hair. "Enough of that, though. There's nothing we can do about it right now. I have a kingdom to run."

&-

It had been three days, and neither hide nor hair had been seen of the Gerudo. Tension had been reduced to boredom, and through my worry, I'd been going crazy. I was having a bit of difficulty believing what I was doing to distract myself, and, apparently, so was Esten- or, at least, he would be having difficulty if he weren't so busy laughing at me.

"Shut up," I growled, scratching out the poetry I'd written in the ashes of our campfire with a stick. "You're not helping me to concentrate."

"Your eyes are bluer than tektite's blood? Come on now, Link, even you have to admit that that's not exactly romantic."

"I'm new at this poetry thing!" I growled, frustrated, stabbing the ashes angrily. As I had a limited supply of paper and ink out in the camp, I'd settled for more crude means of prewriting.

"Why don't you try this: 'your eyes are bluer than the bluest of skies, deeper than the waters of the deepest sea.' How's that?"

"It's not mine," I sulked, writing it down anyway. "What is it with you and poetry anyway, Esten?"

"My mother used to read me lots of poetry when I was younger," he stated seriously. "She seemed to think it would keep me from turning into a sword-swinging barbarian."

"You're a failure, then," I stated blandly, poking at the ashes with my stick. When Esten didn't speak, I dropped it and laid back on my palette, bored, watching the bustle of the rest of the camp, the tense excitement. I wasn't feeling it.

"I just want to go home," I sighed, closing my eyes and breathing deep. "Go back to Zelda."

"I know how you feel," Esten replied. "Remember how miserable I was during our first battle after I'd fallen for Damleda?"

"You two had a terrible fight the night before we marched off to battle, didn't you? I remember that. You were sulking the whole time we were gone." I opened my eyes and grinned over at Esten, who was whittling a stick down into a smaller stick. "We were gone for what- two months? And when we got back, she jumped on you, crying and saying how sorry she was and how much she'd missed you?"

"Yeah." The corners of Esten's mouth were twitching as he surpressed a grin. "That was one of the best returns I ever had."

"It's hard for you now, though, isn't it? Damleda is waiting for you, and now you have Rowan, too. You know what'll happen if we lose."

"If something happens to me, Damleda will be fine. She may be sad, but she'll keep going. She has other people that can help her- her mother, her sister, Rowan, Zelda... if we lose, I doubt that anything much will happen to her. She is Gerudo, after all, albeit only slightly. Leda's smart: if they try to do anything, she'll pull the whole "sister" act, talking of her pathetic, disgraceful grandmother and praising the Gerudo for coming for her."

"What of Rowan?"

"The Gerudo keep their children, even if they are men. There's a tradition in the desert that when a child comes of age, boy or girl, they are sent into the desert to find the temple of the sand-goddess. Most girls return, but something happens to the boys in the temple. They vanish, supposedly, becoming lovers of the goddess. Only once every hundred years does the goddess return a male to the desert to rule- or, at least, that's how the stories go."

"You don't worry about Rowan being sent into the desert?"

"If it comes to that, I know he will be fine. Leda will raise him well, and he does have my genes," Esten stated, smirking. I sighed, shaking my head, and rolled over.

"I've got more to lose," I stated blandly. "If I don't return, Zelda will probably snap for good. If we're defeated in combat, Zelda will be forced to be Ganondorf's wife."

"Zelda will be alright, even if she is forced to join the tribe. She'll have Damleda, and the women have been known to take sympathy on capture-brides for their kings. She may not be happy, but she'll be alright. She'll make it through."

I sighed, closing my eyes. "Hopefully, this war will end quick. Hopefully, everything will-"

"Attack!" one of the sentries yelled, the end of the word frighteningly garbled. I was on my feet in a second, sword in hand.

"They must have killed the sentries further out before they could get word to us," Esten called to me over the sudden noise of battle. "Damn, but this is inconvenient."

"It could be worse," I stated, quickly tightening the straps on my armor (which I'd slept in, like all the other knights) and grabbing my shiled. "They could have snuck in and slit our throats in our sleep."

"Right," Esten replied. "Let's find the king."

We dodged through the camp, where the first fingers of battle were already stretching. Further on, closer to the desert, the sound of an all-out war clashed and clanged. Esten and I made it to the King's pavilion, lining up with the rest of the century, listening attentitively to our battlemaster as our plan of attack was relayed to us. Within five minutes, we were marching towards the mess of Gerudos and Hylians, a silver box, swords extended and shields held to the sides and top, guarding us from attacks.

The mess was truly terrifying- slain everywhere, and all around, the stink of blood. Though I'd seen many, many battles, I'd never quite gotten over the initial fear that accompanied entering. Within a moment, however, my mind was occupied completely as we broke formation and began to cut our way through the Gerudo.

I'd learned early on in my tenure in the army to never look at your enemy's face while they died. It was difficult with the Gerudo- the stunned expression of one young woman as she fell was enough to make me want to drop my sword, but I shook it off. These were the women who had tortured Zelda. They deserved no pity.

I had to find Ganondorf and kill him.

I cut and stabbed through, trying to ignore the oddly easy feel of my blade slicing through flesh, the occasional catch of steel on bone. The few true fights I entered into didn't last long- though the Gerudo had twin scimitars and were deadly in their art, I was fueled by such rage that their blows only bounced off my armor as I took incredibly risky manouvers to bring them down. And then I was on, tugging at my helm to be sure my head was covered, looking for Ganondorf.

I'd find him and I would kill him.

I wouldn't torture him, I thought as I cut through another Gerudo- torture took too long and was too risky in a battle like this. I could try and face him, head on, but that would probably be something incredibly stupid, as I didn't know the measure of his fighting ability. Thus, I concluded I'd take the cowardly way out- I would find him engaged and stab him in the back.

But I'd have to make sure nobody could take me down while I did it.

I came upon him rather suddenly, and fear ate at me when I did. He was a whirlwind in a black robe, killing all that approached him with an easy grace. Faces I knew and faces I didn't went down suddenly, even as more soldiers attacked him. As I drew a gerudo woman into battle, I studied his techniques, killing my opponent quickly and taking on another one. He was fast, this much was obvious, and strong, but his guarding was sloppy. If I could simply get on top of him quick enough, I could stab him in the side, or possibly even the neck. As I slayed another Gerudo, I formulated a quick plan, hating myself for it. It would be very easy for me to get badly wounded doing this, if not killed: but I saw a way, and I would take the risk. If I killed Ganondorf- and I would- then Zelda would be safe, forever. And Esten had been right: Zelda would have Damleda, and her Countess friend, and all the people in her country.

And, if I did the thing right, she might have me, too.

As I swiftly brought down another Gerudo, I saw, as if time had slowed, my chance. Heedless of the danger, I charged in, firmly embedding my blade in Ganondorf's side. A sudden shock spread itself across his features as he fell, his eyes turning to me.

"For Zelda," I told him, pulling out my dripping blade. "It's cheap, but so was kidnapping her." His arm flew up, and I felt the fultility of his sword rebounding from my armor. Something, though, didn't feel quite right...

"You're dead, Knight," the Gerudo King responded, a sudden smirk spreading itself across his features. "All your people... are dead."

His head lolled to the side and his eyes stared off into nothing.

I couldn't believe I'd done it. I'd just killed- albeit quite cheaply- the Gerudo King. Zelda was safe now. Sudden, ear-splitting shrieks of the Gerudo women jerked me from my thoughts, and with this, pain overtook me. My armor had been sliced straight through by Ganondorf's blade- but when?

As I fell down to the ground to die in agony next to the single man I most hated in the universe, the Gerudo women dropped as well, surrendering their blades and shrieking, pressing their palms to their ears. But that didn't matter now- nothing mattered, except the pain, the horrible pain. Somehow, Ganondorf had sliced, killed me. But how?

Heedless of the danger, I charged in, firmly embedding my blade in Ganondorf's side. A sudden shock spread itself across his features as he fell, his eyes turning to me. I said something, pulling out my dripping blade, and as I did, Ganondorf's arm crossed over my chest, his sword...

His sword...

The battle was won. The Gerudo were surrendering. Ganondorf had been killed- but so had I.

The noise began to fade away, the scent of blood abating. Even the horrible pain in my chest dissolved, until I was safe and warm, staring up at the blue sky.

So this was what dying was like. It wasn't so bad...

I turned my head to the side, closing my eyes, seeing Zelda's smiling face in my mind one last time before I passed to be with the Goddesses.

I wish you all the happiness in the world, Zelda, I thought. Don't be bitter. Don't be cold. Move on.

Esten dropped on his knees next to me, shouting something, tugging at my armor. It was too late, I tried to tell him. I was already dying, already dead. I wanted to tell him to tell Zelda I loved her, that I wanted her to move on- there were so many hundreds of thousands of things I wanted to say.

In a moment, however, all my cares vanished as I was washed away into the endless, sweet sleep of death.

&-

News of battle came suddenly, late on the third night that they had been gone. I was eating dinner with the rest of the court, stately and quiet, when the messenger burst in, exhausted.

"Highness, highness," he panted, stumbling over. "News... from the desert..."

"Yes?" I asked, dropping my fork and standing suddenly, balling up my napkin. "What news?"

"A battle... many dead- two of three dead, injured, or missing. Your father, badly injured... the Gerudo king, killed. The Gerudo have surrendered..."

"Who killed Ganondorf?" I asked, clutching the napkin. "When will the soldiers return?"

"This night, or the next," the messenger replied. "I know not the name of the man who killed Ganondorf, lady, but he took a severe blow to the chest. It cut straight through his armor to his side. Not so deep that he'd die instantly, but he is currently close to death."

"My father, though? What of my father?"

"Severe... severe blow to the head, several deep open wounds. We don't know if he will live. He's being hurried here, along with the knight that killed the gerudo king, as well as some others who have more dangerous injuries."

"When will they arrive? When will my father arrive?" Hysteria was pulling at me, joy coupled with deep, unshakable fear, remorse and terror for my father, and the thought of Link, possibly dead... too much for me to handle. "Who are the dead?"

"A list is being compiled of the dead and missing. You will know when the army arrives..."

"Very well," I replied, ice overtaking me. "You have done well. I give you leave."

The messenger thanked me and stumbled out of the room, but I didn't hear or see. I was caught up, fear coiling around me. Wordlessly, I left the dining hall and went to my room, Damleda catching up with me when I was halfway there.

"Zelda," she panted, "I... I heard that there was a... a messenger." She was doubled over, holding Rowan to her, her free hand pressed to her stomach.

"Ganondorf, dead, my father near death, many killed and injured and some missing. I don't know about Esten, or Link."

"When will the men arrive?"

"Tonight, or tomorrow. Those who are badly injured will be here sooner."

"Then let us pray that both Link and Esten come tomorrow. I'll wait with you tonight, if you would like."

"Please," I replied, my voice cracking slightly. "Please, Leda."

We entered my chambers and sat down on the sofas in the dressing room, silent, waiting. When Rowan began to get restless, Damleda fed him, then laid him down to sleep on my large bed. And all night, we waited, until finally, near dawn, the far off sound of many horses announced the arrival of my father and the injured.

I just prayed that Link was not among them.

&-

I was not ashamed as I began to wail before the many spectators, holding to his body.

"He's not," I sobbed furiously. "He can't be."

"I'm sorry, Zelda," my father replied weakly and solemnly from where he laid, bound and pallid. "I saw him- he charged in and killed Ganondorf, and as the gerudo fell, he cut Link with inhuman strength."

"He'll live," I sobbed, tears openly coursing down my cheeks. "He has to. Wake up, Link, wake up," I cried, touching his cheek, then his battered, bloody chest. "I need you."

"He has lost a lot of blood," Esten said quietly, his arm around Damleda, who had buried her face in his shoulder and was convulsing with tears. "I'm surprised he isn't yet dead."

"He... he won't die," I cried. "He can't. Not Link. Link could never die."

Nobody responded. I kept crying, holding tight to his frighteningly still form.

"You were going to marry me!" I shrieked suddenly, resting my forehead against his chest. "You were going to be my king! Nobody would have been better for Hyrule than you, and you had to go and make some stupid sacrifice just to get rid of a madman."

This was all taking place on the drawbridge of the castle, from where Damleda and I had rushed out to meet the many men bearing the badly hurt. Esten had been carrying Link, his face drawn, and he had not relinquished his friend until I arrived. Now, Link was lying on the ground, eyes shut, face strangely solemn, bleeding through his bandage.

Looking down at him, a sudden idea coursed through my mind. It was stupid, incredibly so, but if anyone deserved life, it was Link. I felt the beginnings of my lost magic at my fingers, itching to be released.

"Will you live, father?" I asked him suddenly, turning my tearful blue gaze on him. "Will you survive?"

"My wounds are very painful," the king stated with a weak cough as a medic bent over him. "But yes, I believe that I will live."

"I see." I turned my eyes back on Link, whose face had gone deathly pale. "Then... then there is hope." I touched Link's face lovingly, tears coursing down my cheeks anew. "You'll live, Link, I know it."

"Zelda," Damleda said suddenly, looking at me as I began to unbind Link's bandages. "Zelda, what are you doing?"

The words washed away from me as I stared down at the bleeding wound, a perfect slash deep into the skin of his broad, tanned chest. It would leave a horrible scar, I thought to myself as I pulled something out from within me, something glittering and huge, all the energy I posessed. Though it wasn't what I'd once had, it would be enough for Link. More than enough. He would live, and I would die, and because of it, the world would be a better place.

"He won't die," I responded, touching the wound, releasing the first waves of magic. "He'll live. He deserves a second chance."

As I watched, the blood began to stop as the skin on Link's chest knit itself back together. I felt it pulling the energy out of me, sucking me into darkness. Not yet, I said to the magic. Not just yet.

The wound sealed, raw and pink and angry, but safe. He would be safe. He would live. I heard the distant gasps of those around me, and then fell over, just as Link's eyes cracked open, barely revealing the beautiful blue.

"Zelda..." he whispered. I didn't hear it, though. I'd given him his second chance at life. The King could remarry, or name Link heir, or just plain give up. I didn't care anymore- like I'd told Link the night before he left, all that mattered was him.

I smiled as I took his place in death.