Notes: It's been a while, eh? I've had little to no time to write recently, and then when I did I found it really hard to get back into the headspace. Plus I had a fic to write for the Hyrule Exchange. I definitely haven't abandoned this fic, and I hope the gap to the next chapter is much shorter!
##The sun is bright overhead as Link stumbles his way over the last ridge of dune before the Gerudo encampment, the loose sand sliding away under his feet. He's not surprised to see the Gerudo waiting for him; his slow progress across the dunes must have been visible for hours. What is surprising is their lack of concern at his arrival. Not one stops their task to go for their spear or sword.
"Sav'orq", he greets them cautiously as he approaches.
"Sav'aaq," they call back cheerfully. No one moves to intercept him as he goes by. There are lumps in the sand in the shade of the tent, where the Gerudos' seals have buried themselves to keep cool with only their faces poking out.
At the entrance to the Chief's tent stands a mountain of a woman, with thighs like tree trunks, leaning on a greatsword. Is this Chief Riju? He can't see much resemblance to Urbosa in her face. She looks down at him, and he resists the urge to rub his peeling nose and ear-tips. The molduga attack smashed his bottle of sun salve, and without it his pale skin burned almost the instant he left the shade of the fairy spring behind. Even the lightest touch of his clothes against his skin is bordering on painful.
"I'm looking for Chief Riju," he tells the woman, trying to look more like a seasoned warrior and less like a seasoned lobster.
"She's expecting you," the giantess says, and beckons him to follow her inside.
Inside, a young girl in fine clothes sits on embroidered cushions. This is Chief Riju? She can't be more than a dozen years of age. She surges to her feet as he enters, and he spots a stuffed sand seal in amongst the cushions.
"You see, Buliara?" she says, her hair swinging in its braid as she clasps her hands together. "I knew the dragon spirit must have been a sign from the Goddess. I told you I saw it! And now a strange voe appears in our camp, from out of the sandstorm! Who are you? Why are you here?" she directs this last at Link.
He drops to one knee on the richly-patterned rug, hand to his chest. "My name is Link. A century ago I served with your grandmother. I'm here to offer aid, in wresting the Divine Beast Vah Naboris from the Calamity's grasp. I was headed for the centre of the sandstorm in search of it, before the dragon appeared to lead me to you."
Riju gasps, but Buliara butts in. "My Lady, we have no proof of this voe's claims."
"That is true," Riju muses. "Didn't the legends say the Hylian Champion wielded a divine blade with which to seal the darkness? Have you such a weapon?"
"Ah. Princess Zelda hid it in the forest for safekeeping; I - have not yet ventured in to retrieve it," Link says, shame washing over him at the reminder of the sword. It's not that he's been avoiding going to get it - actually no, that's exactly what it is, what point is there in lying even to himself? He's been putting it off, because he's still not really convinced it will recognise him. But it's been weeks now since he had the lurching feeling of nothingness where a memory should be. His combat skills are re-honed. He's probably got as much back as he's ever going to. Why is he still shying away from the idea?
"I do have a message from Captain Teake, though," he says, pushing the thoughts of the sword aside for now. "And a gift."
Link hands Buliara the message tube, which she unrolls and scans. "Is this true?" she asks, waving the scrap of paper under his nose. It's in Gerudo script, flowing and - to Link's eye - incomprehensible.
"I don't know what it says."
"It says that you have recovered the Chieftain's helm and are charged with bringing it safely to Chief Riju," Buliara says. Her tone is skeptical.
Link pulls the cloth-wrapped helm from his pack - he's extremely glad that it survived the molduga unscathed - and hands it over. Riju's eyes are wide as she unwraps it, exaggerated by the kohl outlining them. She runs her fingers just over the surface as if she can't quite believe that it's real.
"How did you come to have this?" she asks.
"It's a long story, your highness."
Riju gestures to the cushions. "Then sit, and tell it. Buliara, bring us more lemonade and some lunch."
Link describes everything that has happened since he set foot in the desert, and then has to backtrack to explain his presence in the future, and what happened prior to his arrival in Gerudo. At some point during the tale Riju notices Link's sunburn and has a pot of soothing salve brought to him, made from the slimy insides of succulent leaves. That plus the food and the cool mint lemonade has him feeling much better by the time his story is wrapped up.
"It is hard to believe that you are truly here," Riju says. "Growing up the five Champions were figures of legend to me; to actually meet one is a strange feeling."
"It's a strange feeling to be here. So much has changed since - well, since last year, from my perspective. It's as if I stepped out of my front door one day to find I'd somehow missed an entire season. Only it's entire towns I'm missing, and everyone I knew."
A thought seems to occur to Riju. "I've never spoken to anyone who knew Urbosa directly before. Even my grandmother was too young to remember her. What was she really like?"
Link feels the familiar clench in his chest at the thought that he'll never truly see her again. In his mind's eye, he sees her scything through monsters with deadly grace, fury etched in every line of her face; sees her overflowing with affection as she sings softly to Zelda and brushes her hair. Sees the knowing looks she directed his way whenever he got too caught up in observing Zelda rather than their surroundings.
"She was - incredible. As fierce as the desert winds, but she had such deep reserves of kindness in her, too. She would have adored you."
Riju looks as though she could spend the rest of eternity talking of Urbosa, but Buliara coughs lightly.
"My lady, perhaps we ought to discuss the Divine Beast. As we speak it approaches the city."
"Oh! Yes. Link, have you any idea how it might be stopped?"
Link holds up the Sheikah Slate. "If I can touch this device to the central terminal, it will drive out the aspect of Ganon which controls it. It will certainly put up a fight to prevent me getting there, though. And getting inside has been a challenge before. I imagine that will be the case here, too."
"Even approaching it may prove difficult," Buliara says. "We saw Naboris as we came down from the north-east, and attempted to get close enough to see what it was doing, but we were unable to penetrate the dustcloud around its feet. And this was before it had expanded the storm - by now it is many miles wide and only getting larger."
Riju puts the helm on; it wobbles precariously, designed as it is for an adult woman's head. "The helm should allow us to get close to Naboris," she declares. "Its magic allows the wearer to divert the power of the storms. I can create a bubble around us, in which we will be safe from harm."
"Lady Riju," Buliara objects. "You cannot mean to go yourself, it is far too dangerous!"
"And shouldn't a Chieftain be willing to face danger for her people?" Riju asks, her shoulders and jaw set. "Is that not her duty? Is that not what my mother would have done? What Urbosa did?"
Buliara inclines her head, looking chastened. Link can understand the instinct; Riju looks so young. But then again, at her age he'd been well into his military training, either already a squire or about to become one. He'd already seen most of Hyrule, and fought most types of monsters.
"Well, assuming we can get close, there's still the fact that Naboris is the height of the tallest tower in the city," Link says. "I might be able to climb up, but without seeing it first I don't know if it's possible. I wish I'd thought to ask Teake to pack some kind of grappling hook."
"Hmm. Perhaps we can improvise," Buliara says, looking thoughtful.
Hours later, Link is once more racing across the sands on a sled, his seal following closely behind Riju and Patricia with little input from him. On the Chief's other side, Buliara keeps pace effortlessly. He runs over his current assets in his mind as they speed onward. Coiled at his feet is a makeshift hook made from tent pegs bound together with leather straps. His sword and slate hang from his hips, as does his sole surviving vial of healing salve. Strapped to his back are his bow and a large, ornate shield which Riju had insisted he take that once belonged to Urbosa.
Assuming the pattern from the previous Beasts holds, the incarnation of Malice which resides within will fight like her. Link had always enjoyed sparring with Urbosa, but he's keenly aware that they'd neither of them been aiming to maim or kill. In a serious fight, he's honestly not sure who would have emerged victorious.
"How long do you think it will take to reach the city at this pace?" he shouts across to Buliara, when the faint smear of the sandstorm has grown to a towering barrier ahead.
"By nightfall, perhaps," Buliara replies, looking concerned. Naboris isn't that fast, but its stride is enormous and it never needs to stop. They've been pushing the seals as hard as they can to catch up. They sent a messenger bird ahead to Teake before leaving camp, but evacuating will take time. Plus, there's really not anywhere else to go. Kara-Kara can't hold the entire population. Link has to shut Naboris down before it gets too close.
Riju lifts the helm from between her feet and puts it on as they reach the edge of the storm. "Alright, let's do this!"
The experience of being inside the sandstorm this time is much less disorienting. The bubble Riju extends around them keeps most of the sand at bay, which helps visibility a lot. Without the wind battering at them it's easy enough to reach the eye in the middle, where Vah Naboris strides relentlessly onward. Electricity builds around its feet and between its humps, then discharges in violent, random bursts that leave afterimages burned into Link's vision.
As they approach one arcs into Riju's shield with a smell like ozone, crackling in the air as it dissipates.
"Keep close!" she yells, reining Patricia in.
"Try to get underneath!" Link shouts back, and Riju nods. The helm wobbles on her head as she steers Patricia through the shadow of the Beast.
Link scans the telescopic legs as they near, trying to look for a route up.
"Lizalfos!" Buliara calls to them, drawing her sword and pulling her seal to a halt.
Three are emerging from the sand, closing in on them with that deceptively fast, sinuous shuffle. Riju raises a hand, letting the static in the air gather. Then she clicks her fingers, sending chain lightning arcing over their scaly hides. They flinch and twitch, and then Buliara is there to lop the heads off before they can regroup. She's just pulled back into the safe zone around Riju when another flash of lightning hits them and crackles off into the surrounding sand.
Link gathers the grappling hook in his hands to start swinging it in a wide circle. The seal barks alarm and swerves sideways to avoid the giant hoof that comes down by their heads, forcing Link to catch his balance or be thrown off. He grabs the reins one-handed to hold it steady for the next step, swinging with his other. His throw falls short; the hook thuds back onto the sand. The second and third tries do no better.
"It's too tall!"
Riju pulls alongside him. "Do you have any other ideas?"
Link drops the hook back at his feet and draws his bow, considering his choice of ammo briefly. Shock arrows had disrupted Vah Ruta, but Naboris is crawling with electricity; the same gambit seems unlikely to work here. He puts a bomb arrow to the string instead.
"Get us close to the front feet, on the outside!"
Riju does, and Link takes aim just as Naboris brings one of those feet down. The explosion doesn't even dent it, but it does wobble ever so slightly with the blast as it makes contact. They're cresting a large ridge in the sand now, and the next arrow Link sends knocks the foot just enough off-kilter to send it skidding down the loose slope. Naboris lurches over, dropping into an awkward half-kneeling sprawl as it tries to get its feet back under it.
"Underneath now, as fast as you can!"
He spins the hook as Riju steers them beneath the colossus, and there's a satisfying clank as the tines latch onto the walkway slung under Naboris' belly. Link's yanked upwards as Naboris recovers, leaving Riju and Buliara behind on the sands far below.
There's a guardian scout waiting for him as he hoists himself over the railing. It's the same model as the training bots in the shrines. He feints to its blind side as it swings. While it's trying to turn he gets his shield under its body and heaves it over the side. If the fall doesn't destroy it Buliara will.
Link creeps into the belly of the Divine Beast with his sword and shield high. The interior of Vah Naboris is vast and flooded with sunlight. No more guardians ambush him, though he can hear the skittering of mechanical legs on the levels above him. The entire space hums with electricity, lifting the hair on his arms and the back of his neck ever so slightly.
"Aren't you a sight for sore eyes?" comes a familiar voice, and he turns to see Urbosa, translucent but as radiant as he remembers. She has a smirk on her face that dissolves into a genuine smile almost instantly.
"Urbosa. It's so good to see you again."
"The pleasure is all mine, I assure you," she replies with a small shake of her head that sends her hair tumbling over her shoulders. "The company around here has been lacking, this past century."
Link laughs, brittle and joyful. "I'm so sorry. If we'd pushed ahead to the Castle, rather than trying to regroup -"
She waves his apology away briskly. "What's done is done. Come on, I'll show you where to get the schematics for this place so we can work on kicking out my unwelcome guest."
Working his way around Naboris' impressive structure to reboot all the lesser terminals is wildly different than creeping through Rudania in the dark had been; different again, from navigating Ruta's flooded interior. A hot, dry wind blows through the open portholes as he works his way up and down ramps and platforms, slashing crackling keese out of the air as he goes. He swaps to his energy blade after the first few shocks, but they're a nuisance at best either way. Chuchus and guardian scouts harry his steps, easy enough to handle in the abundant light and space. Not much can survive the desert; Naboris is much less infested than Ruta had been.
The tensest moments are when he edges his way around exterior walkways or up ladders on the hull, aware that falling from here would be certain death. He keeps a watchful eye on the plasma ball, but it's is either unable or unwilling to strike him while he's on its own body. A few busy hours of fighting, climbing and circuit-breaking later he's standing ready at the master terminal. He rolls his shoulders and checks the fit of Urbosa's shield on his arm before he touches the slate to it.
Just as before, the seething goop leaps up to prevent contact. It boils furiously, coalescing into a tall, vaguely humanoid figure. If it's meant to mimic Urbosa, it's a copy made by someone who has never even seen a Gerudo. Something resembling red hair drapes over its muscular shoulders, shaggy and unkempt as no Gerudo would permit. There's a curve to its hips, but no limbs beneath. A single glowing eye burns blue in the centre of its birdlike face.
It raises its energy blade and shield in a mirror of Link's own stance. And then it moves.
Link's only warning is a rush of wind at his side before he hisses in pain and surprise. There's a deep gash on his calf where it clipped him. His counterswing meets empty air. It darts back again, catching his shoulder this time. By the time he's turned it's ten feet away, hanging in midair making a rumbling noise that might be laughter. Link pushes the sting of his leg aside, focused on finding that central place of serenity in his mind. All distraction falls away, time stretching like taffy in his perception. This time, he sees it move.
As it zooms past he pivots into a downswing to catch it. His sword slices into its bicep, and it screeches back at him. It rams into him with its shield, and he brings his own up to meet it. His boots scrape backwards on the stone deck. He shoves, and it disengages to hover again.
Urbosa drops back into a ready stance, their initial blows exchanged. They have the measure of one another, now. She has reach, but he has flexibility. Link grins as he rushes in with a two-handed upswing that she blocks with her shield.
The Malice deflects his blow and slashes at his left side. Link brings his own shield up, stepping into its space to jab at its side.
Urbosa flows backwards out of range of his thrust, graceful as silk on the breeze. She twirls, turning that momentum into a downward slice that he dodges. Her eyes light up, and she surges forwards,
Thrust-slice-backhand slice. Link is on the back foot, stepping and parrying. Like a dance, he feels for the ebb and flow. He catches her blade on his own.
That expressionless mask is right up in his face as it pushes against his sword with its own. There's no flicker of amusement in its single eye. No whisper of breath against his skin. He shoves sideways with his sword. The creature gestures with a hand crackling with electricity, and Link cries out as the lightning sears down his arm. His sword drops from his numb fingers to clatter on the floor.
He rolls behind a walkway as it slashes down. The creature seems to have given up on skewering him, and is instead gathering more electricity around itself. Link drops back down quickly as the sparks hit. His sword is right underneath it. An idea forms.
Shuffling the slate to the hand he still has feeling with, he pokes his head out of cover just enough to aim. As the Malice builds the field around itself again, he uses Magnesis to bring the metal blade up right next to its head. The lightning arcs onto it and back to the creature. It howls, dropping down onto the floor in a twitchy heap. It gets its arms under itself, trying to push up. Link sends a remote bomb right at its head, and it drops back down again. Its mask is cracked.
Always a subscriber to the school of 'better safe than sorry', Link detonates two more bombs on its limp body before he wanders over to pick up his sword. Awkwardly, with his off-hand, he drives the point down slowly through its eye.
The Malice wails pitifully as it dies. Its misshapen body slumps into an even more misshapen pile of goo, which Link picks his way carefully around. He cradles his still-tingling arm to his chest as he presses the slate to the terminal with the other. Then he drops to sit on the floor to wait for the rumbling of the recalibration process to end. Outside, the ever-present howl of the sandstorm finally dies down.
"You did well," comes Urbosa's rich voice behind him. "Not that I expected anything else, of course."
Riju and Buliara kept pace while Link freed the Beast, and when Urbosa drops Vah Naboris to its knees in the sand, they come rushing up.
"Link, you did it!" the little chief calls, coming to a halt when she sees the figure standing behind him. "Oh! Vaba Urbosa!"
"Vehvi," Urbosa says warmly. "I am so pleased to meet you."
"And I you," Riju says, still looking starstruck. "I have heard so many tales of you."
"If you heard them from this one, don't believe a word he says."
"Hey, I was nice," Link says. "You know, mostly."
Urbosa laughs, head thrown back. "Come inside, why don't you all? I can see you safely back to the city."
"We were visiting the tribes, before this," Riju says. "But I think it is safe to assume more pressing matters have taken precedence if the Divine Beasts are stirring from their slumber. A ride back to the city would be appreciated."
She turns to face him. "Link, you have my gratitude for returning both of the great relics of my people to our control - the helm and the Beast. Anything you need of the Gerudo, I shall be happy to provide. And I name you honorary Gerudo. You shall always be welcome in our city."
By the time they reach the city, Riju is asleep on Buliara's lap. Link stands with Urbosa on the same balcony as before, past and present blurring together in his mind as the darkening landscape lurches by.
"I thought the ban on voe was a religious thing," he says, not quite a question.
Urbosa looks at him. "Hm. It's more superstition than religion. But Riju making you an honorary Gerudo gets around the ban, regardless. If there is ever a King of the Gerudo again - one not tainted by madness - he will have as much right to enter as any other Gerudo."
Link's thoughts turn, inevitably, to the last holder of that title. Does the Calamity share any of itself with that long-ago figure? Does it remember being human - being mortal - the way Link remembers being other versions of himself; in confusing fragments and flashes? It's impossible to know. There's a long lull in the conversation while they both watch the city walls get closer.
"Look after her for me, when I'm gone," Urbosa says, finally.
"Riju? Or Zelda?" he asks.
That gets him a sardonic glance and a lifted eyebrow. "Riju is young to have such responsibility, but she has good advisers, and the goodwill of our people now the relics have been recovered. She'll be fine."
He picks up on the negative space around the sentence easily enough. Zelda, by contrast, will have lost almost everyone she knows and her entire frame of reference. Well, he knows what that's like.
"I will. Look after her, I mean. Of course I will, she's -" he finds he has no words to describe what Zelda is - what she means - to him. 'All I have left' feels inadequate. 'My duty' misses the point. 'The only one who could understand...' closer, but still not right.
Urbosa takes pity on him. "I know. If I'm already gone when you see her... tell her goodbye."
Riju calls for a festival the next evening, to celebrate both the helm and the Beast returning to Gerudo control. Link makes full use of his newly-granted freedom of the city (with signed permission slip) while preparations are underway. He goes for a massage that leaves him feeling as pummeled as he ever was by any enemy, but in a good way. He follows the waterways around the tiled walls, from where the precious liquid bubbles up from the underground to where it tumbles down onto plots of melons, peppers, and verdant greens. He walks the dusty back alleyways where little shrines to Hylia sit almost-forgotten; the Gerudo still largely worship their own deities. He browses the vibrant market, sampling goods and haggling enthusiastically over the price of jewellery. In the end he gets a good price on the gold earring for himself but also walks away with a delicate jewelled hairpin for Zelda, and he laughs at the seller's skill.
Finally, as night falls he returns to the palace. Riju casts a critical eye over him and tuts.
"You can't wear your armour to a party! Come on, Buliara's little sister is about your size, we'll find you something to wear."
Which is how Link finds himself dressed in flowing turquoise sirwal and a halter top as he moves through the crowds. There is food piled up on the tables - grilled skewers of meat and veg, stuffed vine leaves and olives and huge flatbreads with dip. In the centre, a juggler is holding court.
Teake spots him in the crowd, and waves him over.
"I have to say, I'm impressed," she tells him. "You pack a lot of punch into such a small package. If you ever want to come train with us, you're more than welcome."
"I'll keep it in mind," he replies. Ahead of them, the juggler has been replaced with a fire-breather in a dramatic red outfit. She sends a dramatic burst of flame over the heads of the cheering crowd.
"Leena and Liana were looking for you, by the way. They're outside the Noble Canteen, I think they want you to join them for drinks."
Noble Pursuits, Link reflects the next morning, are a lot more alcoholic than they taste. He feels a bit queasy for more reasons than just the hangover, though. Only two of the items on his to-do list remain, now: free Vah Medoh, and retrieve the Sealing Sword. The idea of challenging Ganon, which has felt impossibly distant and abstract until now, is starting to feel worryingly close. What he really needs, he decides, is more certainty on the plan. Both the sword and the last Beast will keep just a little longer.
As he materialises in Kakariko, the warmth of the Gerudo sun lingers on his skin for a brief moment before the late autumn chill chases it away.
### Notes: I couldn't resist bringing the Hookshot back, in some form! It's such a shame we didn't get anything similar in BOTW, though I understand why they didn't add it.