A Link to the Heart Chapter 27
The summer had broken at last, ending the days of glorious sunshine and balmy warmth. In its wake came showers and cold winds, sleeting rain and grey skies. Brooks that had nearly run dry in the heat were now swollen into streams and rivers into torrents that surged over their banks. The ground became soaked with water, turning into a clinging mud that stuck to boots and made every step difficult. It was the kind of weather where those who could stayed indoors and closed the shutters, and those who couldn't grumbled about their lot.
Under that sky a bedraggled line of refugees was crossing a ford. They were a dishevelled bunch, miserable and dour. They were the oldest and the youngest, selected from those too weak to be called up to fight. They had been turned away from Castle town, sent out into the wilderness to find a new place to live. So they marched away, led by Link and two other Knights, dragging a few carts by hand, carrying all the tools and supplies they had been able to scrounge. Epona and two other horses were among them but they had not been ridden, instead being walked as a sign of comradery with the unfortunate souls.
Currently one of the carts was stuck in a stream, its wheels caught on a large stone. Link cursed as the stubborn wheels refused to move. He leaned his shoulder against the frame and heaved as hard as he could but the cart refused to move an inch. He gritted his teeth as he heard the sound of shouting, the refugees struggling to pull from the other end. To his right Tarren applied all his strength, wincing as his ribs protested. To the left Jortan had a long beam of wood stuck under the wheel and he heaved on the other end, trying to lever the cart out of the water.
Link pushed for all he was worth and barked, "Come on, move!"
Tarren shouted, "On the count of three: one, two, THREE!"
As one the labourers heaved and suddenly the cart popped out of the water, rolling up the shallow bank as many hands pulled it along. Link followed, squishing out of the stream with soaked boots. He grimaced as he felt the clinging sensation engulf his feet and sighed loudly, knowing he couldn't press on in this state. He looked around the green bank and saw several hundred refugees loitering near the carts, waiting for them to finish. These were the people he had been assigned to escort, ordered to take them away from the capital and its depleting granaries. Dozens of such groups were moving through Hyrule, escorted by tiny numbers of Knights, but these were his responsibility. The King had ordered him to protect them and so he would.
Link waved to the group and called out, "Everybody take a break."
Tarren stomped up beside him and muttered, "Have I thanked you for volunteering us for this duty?"
Link sighed, "Only five times today, once less than yesterday."
Tarren snorted, "Don't think that means I'm any less resentful. I could be in a nice warm tent right now."
Jortan waddled past, his boots dripping, and exclaimed, "Don't be so sour, it's not all bad."
Tarren retorted, "You only say that because you're sharing your bedroll with that brunette refugee girl."
Link rolled his eyes and said, "Sit down and take off your boots. Dry them out as best you can, it's all too easy to catch footrot with damp boots."
The trio spied a large boulder sitting by the side of the stream and squelched over, flopping down upon it. Link reached down and peeled off his boots one at a time, wincing as water poured out. He laid them out on the rock and flexed his toes, feeling the cold wind like ice on his feet. Oh, for the summer sun he lamented, but at least it wasn't currently raining. As he waited for his feet to dry he looked over the land. To his left Death Mountain rose high, its summit lost in the grey bowl of soup that was the sky. The surrounding peaks looked hazy and indistinct, building clouds promising another shower before the day was out. To his right lay the hills of Hyrule field, green and fertile and empty. But before them was a wall of trees: the Lost Woods. Gnarled and bushy and dark, they did not look inviting in the least. There was a watchful menace about the forest, a sense of hostility and hungry malevolence that spoke to the oldest instincts and primal fears. Link knew what dangers lurked in the shadows beneath the trees, but given Hyrule was wracked by war it was just as dangerous out here. If a hundred Gerudo rode over the nearest hill there was little three knights could do to stop them.
As they sat Jortan grinned slightly as he inquired, "So Link… tell us what it's like to kiss a Princess."
Link sighed loudly in exasperation, "Leave it alone."
Sadly Jortan wouldn't quit and pressed, "Come on, don't be shy. Tell us."
Link knew the knight wouldn't be content until he said something so muttered, "It was very… proper."
Even Tarren winced at that, "Proper? That's not a good word for kissing."
"What do you want me to say?" Link snapped, "Everybody was watching, did you think we would tear each other's clothes off?"
"Did you at least enjoy it?" Jortan asked.
"Doesn't matter," Link sighed, "We're meant to be together. It seems we were made for each other."
Tarren pointed out, "You say that like it's a duty."
Jortan assumed a cheeky expression as he asked, "How does it compare to kissing Malon?"
"Malon?" Link started as his eyes drifted to a flash of red hair moving among the refugees, "She was like fire and thunder. She was like being swept away by a river rapid and her hair smelled of spring…"
He realised the other two were grinning at him and snapped, "Would you stop that?! I've hurt her enough, I don't want to cause her more pain."
Tarren shook his head and said, "Afraid it's too late for that."
Link looked over again and saw Malon and Ingo distributing hard biscuits to the refugees. The ranch girl was moving mechanically, not smiling or joking as she normally would. She wasn't even shouting or haranguing people. She moved like one bereaved, her face blank and devoid of emotion. She appeared as one through the motions, not feeling anything and the sight made Link feel guilty. She'd been like this for days, barely saying anything other than the most basic talk of the day-to-day needs. Even though he'd never led her on Link knew he was the one who had hurt her and he had no idea how to make it better.
Malon and Ingo wandered over to them and Link tensed but she merely handed him a square biscuit and said, "Eat up."
Link wanted to say so many things, he wanted to apologise, but the words stuck in his throat so all he could say was, "My thanks."
Malon glanced at the carts and remarked, "We are eating through rations fast. At this rate they will run out before winter is over."
Link slowly suggested, "Once we've got you settled make sure everybody knows your priority will be gathering food and storing it. You will need a good stockpile to get through the winter."
Ingo muttered, "This lazy lot won't be doing much, useless bunch of shirkers and layabouts."
Malon sighed, "We will remind them they need to start soon or starve, autumn will be here before we know it."
"Maybe we can do some hunting before we leave you," Link pondered, "A few deer will feed many mouths."
Ingo frowned as he asked, "Can't you stay till spring? Keeping this lot in line will be a job and a half."
"We can't," Tarren rebuffed, "We have a war to get back to."
"We'll manage somehow," Malon said flatly as they turned and walked away. Link watched her go, feeling a dagger of guilt prick his heart. Silence fell as the trio chewed on their biscuits, the coarse fibre like sand in his mouth. Link spent several minutes chewing on his ration then finished it off. He picked out a few crumbs then reluctantly checked his boots. They were as dry as they were going to get so he pulled them on and grimaced at the cold leather wrapping his feet. Still he jumped off the rock and said, "Let's get them moving."
It took a good few minutes to round everybody up and get them walking again. Link led them from the front, walking towards the Lost Woods with a weary tread. Epona followed behind, content to be led rather than ridden, as were Tarren and Jortan's horses. Slowly the refugees moved ever nearer and the dark wall of trees grew in Link's eyes. The knotted barks and looming canopy were dour and threatening but Link was not dismayed. He had spent much of his early life under those boughs, growing up among the Kokiri. He remembered the forest well and he hoped it remembered him, he was hoping for a warm welcome from the little people.
For the next hour Link led the refugees to the edge of the forest, steering towards a pair of mighty trees that formed an archway. He aimed for that point and guided the refugees to the very edge of the forest but once there he made them halt and settle down. He wasn't willing to lead Hylians into the forest until he knew it was safe. The ancient wards that had once made the forest impenetrable had dissolved with the death of the Great Deku Tree, but there remained many dangers within.
Link drew his sword and shield and called out, "Ingo, keep everybody here. No one is to step a foot within until I return… nobody."
Tarren drew his sword too as he said, "Never been in there but I've fought enough things that came out. You're sure it's a good idea to go inside?"
Link replied, "No choice, we can't leave these people outside, they'd have no chance if the Gerudo find them. Inside they can hide from the invaders, if we can find a safe spot."
"Golden Goddesses watch over us," Jortan muttered as they stepped within.
Link led them under the arch and found an overgrown path beyond. He carefully walked along it, trampling bushes underfoot as he did so. The forest was dark and gloomy, eerily quiet save for the chirruping of insects. Occasional shafts of sunlight broke through the canopy but they were few and in between were menacing shadows. He strained his senses, wary of danger, but found no sign of Stalfos or Wolfos or worse. The forest was not reacting to their presence but he remained keenly aware that they were only on the perimeter of the woods; the heart of the forest was a place even he would hesitate to venture.
As they walked Link whispered, "Saria… can you hear me? Please let us pass, we ask you for sanctuary."
"What was that?" Tarren asked.
"Nothing," Link deflected, not knowing if the Sage of Forest was able to hear him, or was willing to respond. She had been another old friend, one he had ignored for a decade. Perhaps she was as vexed as the rest, one more relationship Link had ruined with his ignorant boorishness.
Suddenly the ground dropped away in a sharp gorge, filled with tangled briars. Yet over that drop hung an old rope bridge, supporting wooden planks. Link gingerly tested them with his boot, not knowing how the old wood would take his weight, but it seemed firm enough. He led the knights over the gorge with a cautious tread and pressed on, following a road he knew all too well. Sure enough the path disappeared into a familiar fallen tree trunk, hollowed out and wide enough to walk through without qualm.
Link emerged from the trunk into a clearing, one filled with tree stumps And his heart skipped a beat. He remembered this place like the back of his hand. He had grown up here, explored and played with no idea of the wonders and dangers awaiting him outside the woods. The tree trunks had been hollowed out to form short houses and frayed rope bridges hung overhead, swaying gently in the breeze. Yet no voices rung, no calls or welcome or challenge and the grass was as high as his knees.
Tarren stepped out into the clearing and asked, "What is this place?"
"My childhood home," Link explained, "I grew up among the Kokiri."
"Where is everybody?" Jortan asked as he eyed the clearing.
"I don't know," Link replied with a frown, "I thought they'd be here, they should be here. They never left before, not in either timeline."
"Eh?" Tarren asked with a puzzled look.
"Nothing," Link deflected, "Maybe they're out hunting."
"All of them?" Tarren scoffed, "No, this place is abandoned, nobody's lived here in years."
Jortan stuck his head into a tree trunk house, the lintel barely over his head, and cried out, "What a mess, somebody's been through here and smashed all the pots!"
Link winced as he replied, "That.. that was me. I had a thing for smashing pots in my younger days."
"Wild child were you?" Jortan asked as he pulled his head out.
"I didn't have many friends and I was acting out," Link confessed.
"Be that as it may, this place is deserted," Tarren remarked, "It should be a safe place to build a camp."
"Agreed," Link stated, "Go get the refugees and bring them back. Stick to the path: do NOT stray from the path for any reason."
The two Knights turned back the way they had come and vanished. Link watched them depart then looked over the abandoned village. So many memories, so many innocent adventures. Here he had lived the life of a Kokiri, not understanding he was not one of them, yet never truly accepted either. He had been a lonely and unhappy child, with only one real friend. He had been the odd one, the outsider in their community and mocked for being the only one without a fairy. Yet at last Navi the fairy had come to him and set in motion his grand adventure. It all seemed so long ago and remote from his current life, like a story told to him rather than a memory.
Still he could not help but wander over to a particular tree, where a home had been carved out of the mid-trunk. He placed his hand on a short ladder leading up to the opening and sighed, "Never thought I'd come back again. I hope these people are happier here than I was."
