*ALL STANDARD DISCLAIMERS APPLY*

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In Sotto Voce

By The Wolfess

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Chapter 22

Morning's first light drifted into the tent and across the hero's face. A bird that wasn't a crow or a vulture sang somewhere nearby. He stretched in his bedroll and groaned, slowly allowing his sleepy mind to adjust to the realities of a new day. He turned over for a moment, wishing he could just pull the blanket over his head and sleep a little longer. The thought lingered in his mind for a moment before he sighed and threw the blanket aside. Duty called, and if the sun was already rising then she was calling late.

Link stood and pulled on a simple tunic and boots, and then strapped a short arming sword to his hip. He would put on more formal armor after he made sure the queen was awake. Ducking out of his tent, he stepped over to Zelda's and paused just outside the closed flap. "Your Majesty?" he called. "Are you awake?" There was no answer inside. Link frowned. She was usually a restless sleeper and up well before dawn. "Zelda?" Again, no answer. The hair on the back of Link's neck prickled. Something was wrong here.

Trusting the tent flap aside, Link leapt into the tent with his hand on the hilt of his sword. He didn't know what he expected to see inside the tent, but it certainly wasn't what he found: no one. The tent was empty. There was no sign of a struggle. The bed clearly had never even been slept in. Taking his hand off the sword hilt, Link cursed under his breath.

The first step in any problematic situation was to assess your surroundings. Link reminded himself of this and started looking around the tent. The bed was made. Either Zelda had gotten up, made it, and left without waking him, or she never slept in it. Both were concerning. Turning away from the bed, Link saw that Zelda's wardrobe doors were slightly open. This was also unusual as sand would inevitably get into her clothes. He walked over to it and opened it up. Both her night gown and her battle gown were hung neatly. Was she taken naked somewhere? Or did she have something else to wear that he didn't know about?

The soldier was about to close the wardrobe when he noticed the difference in height between the bottom of the wardrobe on the inside and the bottom on the outside. It was rather dramatic, wasn't it? He knelt and started feeling around the edge of the wardrobe's floor, soon finding a small ridge that let him get a grip on the fake panel and pull it up. Inside was one item—Impa's bloody armor piece—and Link knew instantly where the queen had gone.

"Damn you, Zelda," he growled. "Couldn't you have just waited? Or at least brought me along?" Silence was all that greeted the young soldier. He put the panel back in place, closed the wardrobe, and slipped out of the tent. He kept his face neutral as he walked past the posted guards back to his own tent. Link's mind was racing. He would have to set out at once, of course. If he chased after her, he could surely find her before she got too far. But what if they already found her? What if it was too late and he ended up being the incompetent guard who let the Queen of Hyrule get herself killed?

Link closed his eyes and rubbed his temples. "Okay, slow down," he said to himself. "Think about it: they wouldn't just quietly kill the Queen of Hyrule, even if they did capture her. Right? They'd have to make a statement or something. Keep her alive for a bit. Right? Right." He started pacing back and forth through his tent, his mind racing. "And even if I did charge in there after her, what could I do? I'm just one soldier. I'm no hero…I don't even have the sword."

His fists clenched and unclenched at his sides. His teeth ground against each other. It was an impossible situation. Rush in unprepared to rescue Zelda and end up getting caught himself? Or wait until the army was ready to mount a formal rescue and risk being too late to save her? Neither option was good.

But what if that's not the only option? A little voice in the back of his mind said. What if you had the legendary sword? Surely, you would be strong enough then. Link's blue eyes widened. Zelda had said it was in an ancient temple guarded by the souls of hundreds of dead soldiers of Hyrule. It, and they, would only recognize the true hero. He was far from that hero...wasn't he?

"What choice do I have?" Link sighed. "Only the Hero of Hyrule can brave that horde to save Zelda. And that sword chooses the hero. I have to try." He crossed over to his trunk and reached down. Beneath the tunics and armor he usually wore was one outfit wrapped in one of his tattered old trainee tabards. Zelda had given him this green uniform so long ago, and he had taken it off out of protest. He hadn't felt worthy of it, and he didn't feel worthy of it now. But Hyrule needed a hero now, not a regular soldier. It needed THE Hero.

So Link steeled his heart against his fears and put on the green tunic. He strapped on his bracers and his greaves, the metal armor that mounted on his shoulder, and the blue scarf bearing the insignia of Hyrule's Royal Family upon it. Finally, he put the green cap on his head, finishing off the look. Then, with his sword and his Hylian shield strapped on his back, Link slipped out the back of his tent. Quietly, avoiding the eyes of the soldiers around him, he found his faithful horse and untied her lead. He led her just out of sight patted her cheek. "Come on, Epona," he said, swinging up into her saddle. "Let's go save Hyrule." With that, he clicked his tongue and galloped away from the battle, back toward Hyrule to find and retrieve the fabled Master Sword.

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"How did you know it was me?" Zelda was stalling. She was thinking about ways she could escape from this room or disable the ghost in front of her, anything that would get her out of this, but she needed more time to think. Luckily, villains always love to talk about how great they are. She could use that.

"You thought fairy magic could fool me? I am Wizzro, the master of illusions! That was a just parlor trick. I knew you would come for the Sheikah brat if we kept her alive, and you walked right into my trap, foolish girl."

So Impa was alive. That was good information to have. Zelda inched to the left, but the creature floated closer as she moved. Wizzro wasn't going to let her out of this so easily.

"You are not so clever," she said. Her stomach churned with nerves, but she wasn't sure what else to do besides keep egging it on. If she kept it talking, perhaps it would finally tip its hand. "We did discover you in the end, after all."

At this, Wizzro's mouth seemed to twitch in a smirk. "Hmm, that was a good day, wasn't it?" Underneath the large cloak that covered whatever 'body' the creature might have, something seemed to bubble and shift. The purple mist of its being turned inside out, and before Zelda knew it her father was standing in front of her with his arms crossed in front of his large chest. Zelda's breath caught in her throat, her muscles tensing. What new trick was this?

The late King of Hyrule stepped toward her. His face was turned in a scowl as his eyes glared down at her. "I am so disappointed in you, Zelda," his familiar voice said. "What are you doing here? Running away from your duty like a coward."

Zelda closed her eyes and shook her head. "No, I—"

"And why are you still keeping company with that treacherous Sheikah?" The King interrupted. "You are as weak as your fool of a mother, and just as doomed. I am glad I ordered her death."

"NO!" Zelda screamed. She covered her ears with her hands and clenched her eyes tight. "This is a lie. It is all lies. You're made of nothing but smoke and mirrors—capable of clever deceptions, but nothing of substance." As she spoke, she felt strength returning to her heart once more. "You know nothing of my parents. Your act is the worst kind of amateur farce. Pathetic."

"Then why don't you do something about it?"

The illusionist was right in front of her this time, inches from her face, and the voice coming from it was no longer that of her father. It was Impa's voice. Zelda opened her eyes despite herself, and the tall form of her love stood in front of her full of confidence and beauty. The queen's heart broke a little even as her mind screamed that it wasn't the real Impa. She opened her mouth to respond, and then closed it again. It was no use arguing with a madman.

"Oh, that's right," the fake Impa continued, raising a hand to stroke the side of Zelda's face. The queen trembled beneath that touch despite herself. She felt paralyzed as her lover's hand trailed down the front of Zelda's leather armor. Then the Sheikah's eyebrows shot up and her hand snapped out, grabbing the edge of the blood-stained handkerchief that the queen hadn't realized was sticking out of her armor a little.

"Oh, how sweet. You're carrying my blood around in your pocket? How…twisted of you, actually." Impa held it up and stuck her tongue out like she was going to lick the garment.

This finally snapped Zelda out of it. "Give that back," she growled. "It does not belong to you."

The imposter laughed. She didn't lick the garment, but she did tie it to the leather strap on her own armor like the real Impa had and then turn her red eyes back toward Zelda. "You are weak. You throw others into battle to fight your wars because you're too pathetic to fight them yourself. There is nothing you can do, is there?" The creature spit on the ground at her feet as a sickly, menacing grin spreading on her lover's face. "How I ever had feelings for you, I'll never know. Especially after your betrayal…I can never love such a pathetic creature."

Zelda shook her head. "You are not real…" she murmured. "She is not here."

The fake Impa laughed. "Real or not, you know it's true," she said. "Why did you even bother coming here? You're so weak. Even if you do find me, you don't have the strength to save me by yourself. Why don't you just give up?"

The queen took a deep breath and closed her eyes again. It would do her no good to look at the creature. It would only use that as a power over her. No, her father was dead, and her lover was trapped somewhere deeper in the caverns. This creature knew nothing but rumors from spies and traitors. It didn't know what had transpired between her and Impa in the time that had lapsed since its farce as the King. It didn't know the true depths of what she had gone through because of what it did. And, most importantly, it had no idea how much she had grown because of it all. She was not the same person this creature manipulated back then.

"I am more powerful than you think," she said, clenching her fists a little tighter.

The creature scoffed. Here it betrayed itself—the sound was neither her father's voice nor her lover's. It was his own. "Being a servant of the goddesses does not make you powerful, girl, it makes you a puppet. Pathetic. And you've turned away from that path by coming here, anyway, so whatever favor you once had has abandoned you. You are alone! There is nothing and no one coming to aid you!"

Zelda knew without opening her eyes that the creature was no longer impersonating her loved ones. It was wholly its menacing and demented self. Remembering what it felt like to reach out with her powers and sense Impa's soul, the queen wondered if the same would work for a dark soul like Wizzro's. She reached out with her mind as it attempted to tease her. With her eyes closed, it was easy to push past the creature's illusions and see the truth: that it was nothing more than smoke held together by malice. Like a loose string on the edge of badly sewn hem, one good tug would unravel it.

"I am not like you," the queen said, opening her eyes and shaking her head. "My power is not tied to the will of others, nor is my destiny so fragile that the whims of an errant heart will doom the world. No, my goddesses are stronger than whatever evil being you worship. And so am I."

"What nonsense is this?" the creature spat. "You're deluding yourself! Your life is ruined, and your country will soon belong to my Lord Ganondorf!"

Its voice sounded distant to her now, like someone shouting from across a wide canyon. She heard the sounds, but they had lost their meaning. Instead of listening to more of its lies, Zelda closed her eyes again and raised her hand up toward Wizzro. A golden light grew around her, growing brighter the more she focused on the darkness that made up this creature's being.

"What are you doing?" It said, its voice pitched high with panic. "No!" It hurled magic at her, but the ball of violet energy faded in the light surrounding her. Zelda paid it no mind. She found the metaphorical 'string' that held Wizzro together. Reaching out with the light magic inside her spirit, she took hold of the 'string' and pulled hard.

A million voices rung out in the cavern, and all of them were screaming. The creature that called itself Wizzro twisted and churned, transforming from one illusion to another faster than its body could keep up. Through them all, the blood-stained favor tied to its leather strap shifted places. First on the armor piece, then tied around a wrist, then strapped to an ankle, then hanging from a mass of hair. Eventually the creature was just a hideous mass of mismatched body parts that could no longer shift. A strange, purplish-black ooze dripped from its mouth and the corners of its blood-shot eyes, falling down its scarred cheeks like a river of tears. "Witch!" it shrieked, reaching for her with a hand rapidly degrading to a groping skeletal claw. "You are nothing compared to my Lord—nothing! And you are not prepared for his return! Hahaha!"

As the crazed laughter fell from its lips, the creature suddenly exploded. Strange purple ooze flew in every direction. The queen was covered in it, much like she had been covered in the bits and pieces of her father's corpse all those months ago, but this time she was not shaken. She wiped some of it off and shook her head. There was enough light lingering around her frame that she could see the handkerchief on the floor in the middle of the cavern. She crossed over to it and picked it up. Some of the purple ooze mixed with Impa's blood on the fabric, so Zelda took it to the underground stream and washed it out. Some of the blood was so dried that it still lingered, but with enough scrubbing even that washed downstream with the purple ooze. She tucked it back inside her armor, careful that it was really secure this time, and turned back to face the spot were Wizzro died.

"You would not understand in life, and you will never understand in death," she said aloud into the chamber, her voice small and quiet in the darkness that seemed to close in on her as the light about her body faded. "I did not see it until this day, and neither did my mother before me. She could not find the truth before her grief took her from the world, but I know it now with every fiber of my being: my destiny is not so fragile that my own freewill can destroy the world. As long as I have faith in them, the Goddesses' will shall be done. I will walk my own path, not the ones laid before me by others, and they will have to accommodate my decisions in their plan. It is as simple as that."

Zelda turned to the exit and reached out again with her spirit. She could feel the real Impa again, strong as a guiding light hovering before her. The queen moved toward that feeling, wasting no more time than she had to, although she still moved with caution. After all, Wizzro's overconfidence may have left him alone to face her—a challenge he foolishly thought himself more than capable of overcoming—but that scream would call all the forces of evil down into the tunnels. She could only hope that the fairy's glamor was still intact. After all, she had been told it would last until she found her love—no sooner and no later than that.

After what seemed like hours crawling through dark tunnels, Zelda finally saw a faint firelight up ahead. She crept toward it as quietly as she could, straining to overhear the words being spoken.

"Come on, you dunces, bring that slop over here. It's got to eat, remember?" The Hylian queen could recognize the sound of a Moblin's voice after her encounter outside. She doubted she would ever be able to forget. In return, the incoherent growling of a couple Bokoblins responded. "Good," the Moblin said in response. "Now grab the keys off that hook and let's go." There was a metallic clanking and then the shuffling and clicking of monster feet on stone.

Zelda sank back into the shadowed stone wall behind her and listened. It was quiet here and not too difficult to tell how far they were going. Allow them to feed her, she thought. Then they will leave the key when they get back. Easy for me to snatch off the hook and sneak by. She was trying to convince herself that the last part of that plan would be easy. The truth was that she wasn't confidant in her physical skills, no matter how much she had trained with Link in the courtyard, but she would have to figure something out.

Eventually, Zelda could hear the guards shuffle back toward their post. The Moblin was gone it seemed. Zelda could hear neither his voice nor the sound of a third, larger set of feet on the stone. There was a quiet clicking as the guards hung the keys up, and then the creaking of a couple wooden chairs. They had clearly settled in for their watch. Zelda resisted the urge to sigh in frustration—of course they wouldn't just leave the keys and the prisoner unguarded. Even monsters weren't that stupid. She said a quick prayer to the heavens that her disguise was good enough to fool them.

Her shoulders hunched, the queen shuffled in her best imitation of a Bokoblin's gait. She made a point to make noise as she walked so the monsters could hear her coming before they saw her. As she turned the corner, she could see a small wooden table backed against the cave wall with a single oil-burning lantern atop it. This was set up in what looked to have been just another narrow passageway at some point in the past. The east wall had since been excavated, revealing a cavern on the other side. Install metal bars over the opening and some crude shackles inside and viola—a make-shift prison. Zelda had to admit that it was rather ingenious given their limitations. But now was no time to admire the ingenuity of the enemy—she had a Sheikah to rescue.

The two Bokoblin guards marched back and forth in front of the prison bars, keeping an eye on its inhabitants and on the hallways on either side, one of which Zelda had just come from. The key to the cell door was hanging from an iron spike on the wall just above the rickety table, and the guards didn't seem to pay it as much attention. As she approached, they perked up and looked at her. Shuffling over, they grumbled something at her in their peculiar language. They weren't trying to attack her, so that was a good sign that her disguise was still in effect.

Seeing that Zelda didn't immediately respond, the guards gripped their clubs tighter and seemed to repeat themselves. Well, here goes nothing, she thought. She hopped up and down and began to gesture frantically the way she had come, making her best 'distressed Bokoblin' impression. The guards looked at each other and then back to her, confusion written over their features. Knowing she was going to lose them soon, she gestured at her own throat, making a choking motion, and then pulled out her harp to show them like she had shown the Moblin outside. Finally, she thrust her finger back the way she had come again, glaring at them with all the impatience she could muster. She wasn't sure how any of that would look to the Bokoblins, but it seemed effective. They nodded and ran past her toward the entrance.

Zelda breathed a sigh of relief and then ran to the table, grabbing both the lantern and the key. She looked round and listened for the sounds of approaching footsteps before she crossed to the cell and fit the key into the lock. It unlatched with a loud clanking sound and the door creaked open like some kind of alarm. Zelda cursed under her breath and listened again—there was a lot of commotion coming from the direction of the entrance now, but it didn't seem to be moving her way yet. Obviously, they found the mess that used to be Wizzro—that would keep them occupied for a while trying to determine what it all was, but when they figured it out these tunnels would be swarming with monsters. She had to get Impa out fast.

Zelda tucked the key in her pouch, just in case it came in handy later, and then turned to the dark, smelly prison space. She held the lantern out to the side so it could cast light in front of her without blocking her vision. It didn't take her long to look past the corpses and skeletons and see the living body hanging from the ceiling toward the back of the cell.

"Oh, goddesses," she gasped and ran back to the spot. Impa was bruised and battered, especially around her bloody wrists. Despite these signs of abuse, the bandages wrapped around her battle wounds were clean and freshly changed. The same couldn't be said of her clothes. Obviously, the force-feeding process hadn't gone well and bathroom breaks had not been a thing.

There was a lot more noise coming from the outer chambers. Feeling the urgency of the situation, Zelda hooked one arm around Impa's torso and used her free hand to fish the key out of her pocket. Luckily, it fit the shackles that bound Impa's wrists. The moment that the shackles unlocked, the Sheikah's body fell onto Zelda like deadweight. She fell to the floor with Impa's body limp on top of her. Groaning with pain and effort, the queen shifted Impa onto her lap and sat up. It took a little maneuvering her for to get the Sheikah into a good position, but finally she was able to really examine Impa's face.

Although the monsters appeared to be making some minimal effort to keep the Sheikah alive, it was half-hearted at best. Her body was thin, bruised, and cut. But it was less the physical effects she observed than the mental ones that chilled Zelda to the core. As she gazed upon her love's face, she saw the drawn features and absolute terror that she had seen only once before—on the face of the soldier in the medical tent. Impa was exhibiting all the signs of poe-induced torture.

"Not anymore," she murmured, determination on her face. She trailed the backs of her fingers down the side of Impa's face and then pressed the fingertips of both of her hands firmly on the Sheikah's temples. Taking a deep breath, the queen closed her eyes, said a quick prayer, and focused on the unique bond they shared.

The darkness inside Impa was immediately apparent. A part of the queen twisted with guilt over the last big confrontation they had and how she had disbelieved Impa's loyalty even as she searched her soul and found no evidence. This perverse, foreign darkness was immediately obvious and overwhelming even to Zelda, a mere spectator to it. It was difficult to imagine what it must feel like for the Sheikah, and for others who were experiencing this same supernatural affliction. Unfortunately, she suspected that she was about to find out. Zelda focused in on that presence. The closer she drew to it, the more she realized that this wasn't just some dark energy affecting Impa's mind. No, it was an actual metaphysical presence which had somehow forced itself inside the Sheikah's very body. Now, it worked to suppress its host, but to what aim? Was it simply trying to prevent her from waking, or was it trying to force her consciousness so deep that it could take over? Is this how Wizzro took over her father's body—one waking nightmare at a time?

Zelda shook that thought out of her mind. It would not serve her in this moment, and Impa needed her. Zelda pursued the foreign presence deeper into the center of Impa's identity and being. Though it was not quiet her magical core, which Zelda herself had invaded the night when the Sheikah and Zora armies first came to answer Hyrule call, it was close enough for Zelda to feel fear.

When Zelda drew near to the dark presence, she found that she could see images. The poe spirit had clearly created some kind of locked space that required the impression of physicality to be believable by its host. Zelda could see a door much like the ones in the lower reaches of Hyrule Castle where the servants' quarters and the prison were located. She knew before she approached that it would be locked when she touched it, but she also knew that there was no depth of Impa's soul that would not open to her touch. Sure enough, when the queen reached out toward the handle, she heard the click of a lock being unlatched and it yielded to her, swinging open before her.

A flood of images and impressions surged in Zelda's mind once the locked chamber was revealed to her. She knew that what she was seeing was a world created by the poe, but it almost felt real as she looked around—like being inside a lucid dream. She was aware that she was in the 'dream space', but it all felt so real and tangible that it was easy to let her inhibitions go and just believe what her senses were telling her.

What she saw was clearly one of the castle dungeons, but darker and grimier that the real place. They generally prided themselves on treating prisoners with dignity, but there was no dignity in this place. Instead, there was a rank smell and shadows that slithered up the walls and pulsed, as if breathing. In the center of the room with its back to her was herself. This other Zelda wore all black. Her skin was pale as death and her hair flowed in an untamed, wild mass. It curled in the air and floated about her like each stand had a life of its own, like the shadows on the walls. Beyond her physical appearance, there was something deeply and inherently perverted about this figure. The real Zelda couldn't explain how she knew that this figure was the physical embodiment of the poe in Impa's psyche. But she knew.

The shadow Zelda paced back and forth in front of a figure that the real Zelda couldn't quite see yet. It appeared to be mid-tirade. "You are so disgusting," the shadow Zelda was saying. "How could you think that someone like me could ever care for a creature like you? Just look at yourself. I hate you."

The pacing figure moved farther over than it had before, reaching out for a long, iron spear. It proceeded to jab the spear at the figure's side, close enough to scratch but not quite to pierce. In this moment, Zelda could see clearly what she suspected all along: the person the Dark Zelda was addressing was none other than her love, her Impa, even though it did not look like the Impa she knew. Chained against the back wall was a hulking creature with white hair. It's musculature was disproportionately exaggerated, its hair stringy and matted. It had bulging eyes that protruded from beneath an overhanging brow and its jaw jutted out, revealing large fangs that protruded from the lower jaw. Its skin was covered in scars and gaping wounds. Its scent was putrid. But when Zelda looked into its red eyes she knew without a shadow of a doubt: despite its grotesque features, this was her Impa.

"Please," Impa groaned, her voice tired and desperate. "Please forgive me. Please let me go. I'll never approach you again…just let me go."

The Dark Zelda scoffed. "Let you go? Ha! As if I would let a perverted creature like you loose to prey upon the young women of this kingdom? Never. Even life in prison is too good for you. No, the only solution is death. Hehehe…yes, death. I want you to die, Impa."

"You are wrong," the real Zelda said. She couldn't take another moment of this horrible vision. "And you are done here, you pathetic imitation."

Impa's chin lulled onto her chest, her eyes fluttering closed. The creature turned, and Zelda's own face looked back at her—icy, harsh, terrifyingly beautiful. There was a chill deep in her heart, for the sight of that face was not alien to her. She had, in fact, looked in the mirror every day to see that horrible, unfeeling face looking back at her for far too long.

"I am the Queen of Hyrule," the poe said, its voice defensive and malicious at once. "Begone from here, you imposter!"

Zelda shook her head. "I do not have time for this," she said. She crossed over to the creature in a couple quick steps and placed her hand on its forehead.

"Wait—wait!" the creature said, fear suddenly crossing its features. "I—I know where the King is! He is not dead! I—I can show you."

Zelda paused. The promises of a poe were nothing but a trap for the ignorant to believe, but still…what if it was telling the truth? Wizzro had said something along those lines as well. Maybe…but then Zelda heard a groan from the back wall, where Impa's was strung up. The queen's heart split all over again as she gazed upon her. Even if it was true, if she went with the poe on the off chance that it wasn't lying, she would have to leave Impa to her fate. The next time Zelda tried to come for her, it would likely be too late to save her from this torture.

Although it pained her, Zelda shook her head. She balled her free hand into a fist and light began to emanate from her again. "Even if it is true, my father is dead," she said. "Whatever is left of him will not be the person that he would want to be. And Impa needs me now more than he does. I choose Impa—and you will leave her body at once." The poe screamed as light emanated from Zelda's hand and washed over its body. First it gave up its fake form, revealing the real creature wrapped in white robes and floating in the air. It tried to pull away, but the light followed it. Its body began to show holes like a tearing fabric disintegrating to nothing before her very eyes.

As the final shreds of the dark being faded like smoke in the air, the queen waited for this horrible place to fade away and the real Impa to appear before her. But none of that happened. Suddenly it hit her—the poe didn't create this place. It merely took advantage of its host's own deepest, darkest fears. Impa herself created this place. This was Impa's own terrible vision of herself and her fears. And even though Zelda had gotten rid of the invading force, Impa wouldn't come back to the real world on her own.

Zelda crossed over to her twice-chained lover. For the second time, she tried to unlock the shackles holding her love prisoner, but this time she didn't have the key and they would not budge.

"Impa," she said, her voice soft. The creature did not look up. "Impa, please look at me. You are safe now."

"Leave me be," the creature groaned. "Leave me in peace. I can't hurt anyone here."

The queen placed a gentle hand on the creature's face. Her fingers stroked the pock-marked skin with tender care. "You have not hurt anyone—you are far too much of a helper for that. You put yourself on the line for the greater good every day. I love that about you."

Impa did look up this time, and those eyes that Zelda loved so much gazed back at her with desperation. "You don't mean that," she said, shaking her head. "You don't love me. No one loves a monster."

She tried to look away again, but Zelda would not have it. She placed her hands on either side of Impa's face and lifted it to look directly into her eyes. She held the Sheikah's gaze as tears began to well up in Impa's eyes. "I am so sorry, Impa," she murmured. "You did not deserve what I did to you. You are a beautiful soul, and I am so grateful to have you in my life. I am a selfish, foolish girl. Do you forgive me?" Impa blinked in confusion. Zelda was asking for her forgiveness? Before she could fully comprehend the ramifications of that through her torture-twisted mind, the queen leaned in and placed a chaste kiss upon her lips. "I love you, Impa. Please come back to me. I need you."

All at once, the room faded, shackles and all. Zelda felt her consciousness thrust from Impa's mind almost violently. Shocked and shaken, she opened her eyes in the real underground prison they were now hiding in. Zelda felt like the breath had been punched out of her, and it took her a moment to adjust both to real-life consciousness and to the shortness of breath in her lungs.

"How are you here?" Came a weak voice in her lap. Zelda looked down to see Impa's red eyes flutter open. The Sheikah winced and reached across to probe the bandages over her ribs.

The queen bit her lip in a sudden bout of nerves, even as her heart leapt with joy. "I…I came to rescue you."

Impa looked around and her brow furrowed. "I don't remember coming here. Where are we?"

"Deep underground," Zelda answered. "Far behind enemy lines. I dare say at the very heart of their camp." She could hear the noise from down the tunnel getting louder and suddenly remembered the urgency of the situation at hand. "Look, I know you have a lot of questions and you have been through a lot, but we are running out of time. We need to move."

Impa winced as she sat up. Her head swam and her body protested the movement with all sorts of aches and pains she had no recollection receiving. "Running out of time? I don't understand. Where are the troops? Ruto? Link? Where is everyone?"

"There is no time to explain. Can you stand?"

Impa shrugged. "Maybe? I hope so." She tried to stand, but her legs shook, and her wounds throbbed with renewed pain as fresh blood soaked through the crude bandages. She fell back and shook her head. "On second thought, maybe not."

"Wait," Zelda said. She reached into her armor and pulled out the bottle she had caught the single pink fairy in. She held it out to Impa. "Here, open this bottle."

Pink light reflected on Impa's face as she uncorked the bottle. The little sprite flew out of the jar and circled around the Sheikah in a quick spiral. The deep wounds in Impa's shoulder and abdomen healed a bit and some vitality came back into her face, as if she had gotten a good rest. She was still quite battered and weak, but she felt strong enough to attempt to stand again. "Okay, let's try again. Can you help me?"

Zelda stood and helped the Sheikah to her feet. It took a moment for Impa to get her legs under her—she had been hanging from her wrists for days—but the fairy had given her strength and she soon got her footing. She looped her arm around the queen's shoulders for added support and they walked to the prison door.

Zelda inched the door open and looked either way. She couldn't see anyone, but the sounds toward the exit she came from were very loud. Even with the Great Fairy's illusion in effect—which it certainly no longer was by this point—they wouldn't be able to get out that way without arousing suspicion. That left them with one option—head deeper into the tunnel system and pray they found a way out. She indicated which direction they would be going, and they slowly moved away from the prison area.

They walked in silence mostly due to necessity. Zelda had a hard time hearing what could be up ahead of them amid the loud sounds of their clumsy progress and the distant sounds of the pursuing enemy forces. She had brought along the lantern, but now she wondered if that was smart. Not only was it very visible, it also prevented her from being able to see shadowy shapes in the darkness. After a while, she voiced that.

"We must leave this light behind," she said, her voice laced with frustration as she put it on the ground. "Maybe it will throw off anyone who comes along behind us."

"Zelda," Impa's voice sounded hesitant. "Where are we going?"

The queen smiled sheepishly and shrugged. "The truth? I did not think much past the point where I rescue you. That said, some of Master Shaddrick's oldest maps had a notation on them about some old mining facility back here—I am sure that is how these tunnels originated. If so, it follows that there is a secondary exit somewhere. Most mines have a secondary exit in case of a cave in."

Impa frowned. "So, let me get this straight—you came here with no back up and did not think through an escape plan?"

They were walking away from the light at this point, and the queen was grateful that the darkness hid her embarrassed blush. "Shh," she said instead of answering. "We can talk when we know for sure that we are safe."

The Sheikah frowned but she didn't say anything else. They walked in silence for a while longer, the sounds from the known entrance growing quieter and quieter. The queen was starting to worry that they would end up wandering in this darkness for the rest of their lives when she heard the distinct sound of two Moblins speaking up ahead. She slowed their approach and stopped when she could just make out what they were saying.

"Whadda we do wit' this junk?" One of them said. Zelda wondered if it was the same Moblin who managed the prison. She had seen it exit in this direction earlier. "Shouldda ask'd the boss."

"Jus' trow it out wit' the bones," said another distinctly Moblin voice. "No one's gunna use that junk anyway."

"Kay," said the first Moblin.

There was some shuffling and clanking. Zelda could only assume it was gathering up whatever they were debating. Would it come this way to reach the refuse receptacle, or was there somewhere deeper in the tunnel they were throwing it? Time would tell.

"I go wit' you," said the second Moblin. She heard its chair scrape against the stone floor. "Wanna bash Bokoblins with the shiny rocks, hehehe."

Zelda tugged on Impa to let her know they should follow the Moblins. They kept a safe distance as the wine-colored monsters shuffled in single file down the increasingly tight corridors. It was a while before the Moblins stopped, but eventually the corridor opened into a small chamber. At the other end of the chamber was a stone door with a strange face on it. Zelda and Impa swept to the left as quietly as they could, hiding behind a grouping of stalagmites to watch what the Moblins were doing.

One Moblin had his arms full of what looked like Hylian gear of some kind. It was too small for Moblins to use, and Zelda highly doubted their ability to think that someone else on their force might make use of them. The other Moblin, the one with his hands free, hefted the strange door open. It moved easily, like they often came this way. It wasn't long before a stench drifted across the cavern, revealing the purpose of this chamber as where they put the garbage.

The first Moblin tossed the junk weapons inside and then hefted his own club on his shoulder to stand guard while the other Moblin went inside. "Hey, when we march to Seer place?" It asked.

The answer floated out of the refuse chamber where the second Moblin could be heard rummaging around. "I dunno. Soon. Tiny Sheikah say the Master rises wit' red moon." It came out with some shining blue stone in its large fist. It tossed it up and caught it again, then made a practice motion akin to smashing in some unfortunate soul's head. Zelda winced a little at the thought. "This good. Us go back." The first Moblin grunted its agreement. It closed the door behind them and the two Moblins shuffled back the way they came.

Impa was resting on the floor at this point. Zelda listened for the Moblins to be well gone before she moved in to check the door. She shoved on it and tried to push it up, but it wasn't budging for her. She was about to curse their luck and just wait for the Moblins to come back when she noticed a small, rusted switch to the right of the door. The chances of that working after all this time, and after Moblins forced it open and closed every day for who knew how long, were slim. But she had to try.

A push of the button and the door swooshed open with ease. Zelda's brows raised. Its construction was very advanced. As much as a part of her wanted to examine it more and try to learn about its construction, the Hylian knew that they had to keep moving. They weren't safe yet by a long shot.

"Come on," she said when she got back to Impa. "It smells absolutely dreadful, but that is our way out. I just know it."

Impa groaned as she moved to stand. "If you say so," she said. Zelda helped her stand and they went through the door.

There was a switch on the other side, so Zelda pressed it and the door closed behind them. It took the two a moment for their sense of smell to adjust to the stench of the refuse, and another couple moment before they realized that it wasn't as dark here as it had been in the previous room. There were these blue shining stones all over the place here. Small humanoid constructions with pickaxes for hands lay rusting on the ground at regular intervals—some sort of mechanical miners, Zelda thought. It was truly marvelous.

"My sword!" Impa exclaimed. She pointed to a pile of bones and carcasses off to the right side of the chamber. Buried underneath, obviously tossed in there a while ago, the gold decorations on the Biggoron Sword just barely reflected the blue light. They made their way over to it and dug it out, then Impa strapped it on her back. She sagged more under its weight than before, and Zelda struggled to support them both, but she knew better than to question the stubborn look on the warrior's face. One did not attempt to separate a warrior from their weapon. Not a warrior like Impa, at least.

"So," Impa started. "Do you think it's safe to talk now?"

Zelda nodded, but then realized that it was doubtful Impa could see the motion in the dark. "Yes," she sighed. "What do you want to know?"

"I mean, everything. Obviously," Impa said. "But, first…Zelda. How are you here? I don't understand."

Here it was. Impa may not be happy about her decision-making process, no one would be she assumed, but she was not going to back down. She made her own decisions for once and given the opportunity she would do it again. "The generals decided that the army was not able to retrieve you—which was an accurate assessment. More accurate than they were even aware of at the time. Nonetheless, I was not willing to risk losing you. So I snuck out and came on my own to retrieve you."

"How did you make it all the way in here? There must be hundreds of monsters outside!"

"Thousands now," Zelda admitted. "It was…risky. Too risky. But I had help from a rather forward Great Fairy. I am probably lucky she did not try to force me to stay with her as her concubine for a few years before letting me go."

Impa laughed at that, and then winced as pain shot though her side. "You? A fairy's concubine? I have to hear this whole story."

The Sheikah was insistent, so Zelda relayed the tale as best she could while they moved through the abandoned mine tunnels. While the Sheikah did chide her at a few intervals, she was mostly positive and supportive as she listened to the queen relay her tale. And while it was completely ridiculous that they were wandering through an underground tunnel running away from a literal horde of monsters which would be swarming the deeper tunnels at any moment now while chatting like barely any time or life-changing events had transpired between them, it was also somehow perfectly natural. After all, they were both chosen and this would always be their lives, wouldn't it? They needed a moment of calm before the world came crashing down on them again. So, for now they both let the unspoken words and intense emotions go. They just enjoyed being in one another's presence. There would be plenty of time to have those intense conversation when they made it out of this.

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Author's Notes: A part of our found family got married today! It was a beautiful ceremony in front of a moody waterfront on the edge of an incoming storm that held off just long enough...so, absolutely romantic and beautiful.

One of the brides asked me for another chapter, so how could i say no? This one's for you. Enjoy and congratulations! We love y'all.

-The Wolfess