It was truly something to walk on solid ground. The floorboards beneath her feet were hard and secure, not the creaking, shoddy, seemingly rotting wet wood from the Epona or the Wanderlust. Each step she took was firmly set, confidently placed, and without fear of being tossed about with the crash of a wave with every rock of the wretched boats. And Goddess above, it felt good not to feel the toss of her stomach as both she and it lurched about the deck; no, here, she was not ill, not queasy, not stumbling about.
No, instead, Zelda was being lurched around by the harsh tug Paya gave on the laces of Zelda's boned corset, one that was far too small for her.
"It feels so good to do this routine again." Paya said. She was far, far too giddy for this time of the morning, but Zelda couldn't begrudge her the joy of being home. She was excited too, of course.
Another tug.
Gasping, Zelda pressed her hand on her waist to try to catch her breath. Almost every other pair she had were perfect, comfortable, and she loved them, but these were terrible.
"Why are we using these?" Zelda asked in a hiss of air. "I can't breathe; it doesn't fit. What, was I a child when last I wore this one?"
But Paya kept lacing. "I'm afraid after your things were sold by those no-good looters, you're living on the charity of other's today, including improperly fitted corsetry. I'm sorry, Miss Zelda. Your father gave me a list of things you'd lost in the voyage, and I'll be getting you all new ones today."
"What about the stays I wore when we were on the ship? I had it on yesterday. Those were comfortable."
Paya stepped back. "Miss Zelda, those are pirate made. You are never getting in those again. I'll be burning them for you when I return."
Zelda's face fell. "They're simply an article of clothing. They'll hardly corrupt me. And best of all, they didn't crush my lungs to bits."
It won't convert you to piracy, Miss Nohansen. It's a coat.
Zelda shuddered as Link's words from what felt like ages ago haunted her. But she pushed them from her mind and stayed silent, letting Paya lace up the next layer without uttering a word of complaint. Because these were just clothes.
Upon entering the halls once Paya had done her up properly for the day, her heels clicked against the fine wood flooring, echoing through the great room. Unlike the boots that sank in the sand, her heels resounded as she accidently pressed her foot too heavily into the floor, readjusting after far too long in boots or flat shoes while aboard ships.
Light on her feet. Toes only. Soft.
She had to remember how to walk.
Lifting her skirts, forgetting just how heavy they truly were when they were this full and layered, Zelda descended the stairs to an eerie quietness that she'd almost forgotten. It was nothing like the din of the ships or the beach.
There was a ticking clock, and a low murmur from outside, but there was no idle chatter, no music, no ripple of sails in the wind or the waves against the hull. There was nothing her mind had started to perceive as 'normal'.
And that unnerved her.
Paya was right behind Zelda as they each grabbed a cloak and headed outside, descending each step from the door to the courtyard with practiced grace. And Paya was beside Zelda when they hopped into the carriage. A shadow. An uninvited shadow.
Her father had told Paya to stay with Zelda. There was no other explanation for Paya's immediate company without Zelda's request.
Eyeing Paya hesitantly, Zelda waited for something to drop. But when nothing did, she turned to the driver of the carriage. "Do you know the residence of Mila Falls?"
"Falls? The shipping industry Falls?" he asked. Zelda nodded. "She hasn't been 'Falls' in some time, m'lady. She's Mrs. Mila Forseca. But yes, I know her residence."
"Married?" Zelda breathed, sitting back. "She didn't write to tell me."
"Mail takes time to get to the mainland from here, m'lady," he assured her before closing the door and hopping up behind the horses. "And letters are lost at sea often."
"Wait!" Paya said, turning through the window to the driver. "The Governor has requested that Miss Zelda meet him at the nearest Sanctuary before she makes any other trips today."
"He did?" Zelda asked, curious. "Does he want to pray?"
"He didn't say."
"Yes, miss," the driver said, spurring on the horses.
Wheels over cobblestone instead of dirt. Houses tall and painted rather than hastily set up tents on a beach. Finely dressed men and women going about their day rather than raggedy pirates on shore headed to a brothel.
This was where she belonged.
She leaned her head against the side of the carriage, feeling the rocks beneath the wheels jostling the cab, but nowhere near to the level the waves crashed upon against the ship to rock it wildly. Then, she felt Paya slightly tap her foot against Zelda's heel.
Zelda turned, and Paya sat up straight as a pin, and gestured to Zelda to do the same.
Goddess, how Zelda had to fight back a harsh roll of her eyes. It was as if Impa were here; the constant watchfulness of someone waiting for something to go wrong just so they could snap.
Paya remained silent, refusing to speak to Zelda until the carriage stopped in front of a large temple-like structure. But she stayed put as Zelda slid out.
"Aren't you coming?"
"No. I'll wait here. Your father wanted you, not me."
"He did? Did… did he speak with you about me?"
"No, Miss. Just asked me to fetch you for him."
Zelda sighed, turning to the massive structure. She bitterly realized that there had been so much money spent on building this one structure that the rest of Windfall had to be monetarily suffering in some way. The magnificence wasn't lost on her, but neither was its pomp.
Gardens in bloom, signs with written devotions, and a white fence all lined the walkway up to the massive cathedral doors.
And making his way down the stairs was Rivan, headed toward her with non-coincidental intent.
"Lieutenant?"
"Miss Nohansen," he said with a bow, his voice internally registering far differently than when Link called her by her last name. "I'm here to escort you inside."
"I didn't realize I was in need of an escort up the steps," Zelda chuckled, but it was nervous. He wasn't smiling, and her grip on her skirts tightened.
"You were headed elsewhere today." It wasn't a question.
"I… yes. I was going to call on an old friend of mine. Mrs. Mila Forseca."
"The Falls and Forsecas are good friends of mine."
"A fortunate coincidence, considering our future," Zelda muttered.
The quiet streets around the Sanctuary were not empty; there were plenty of people mulling around, but they remailed silent as they went about their day, idle chit-chat at work not encouraged by the Goddess.
"Lieutenant?" she asked, getting his attention. "How long have you been in the Hylian Navy?"
"Hard to say. My whole life. All of it that matters, anyway."
"Did you always want a career in the military?"
His eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Why?"
Curiosity is a vice, the sharp tongue of her governess hissed in her mind. "Forgive me. I was merely attempting to know you."
Hesitant, he glanced up at the large spires, perhaps to give his mind a moment to think up an answer, before looking back to her. "I suppose… I suppose I can have your father give you my recruitment military profile. Will that suffice?"
No.
"Yes. Thank you for that kindness, Lieutenant."
He nodded sharply, looking almost embarrassed by the conversation. "Your father designed much of this."
"Did he?"
"Mmm."
A long beat, several silent steps, heels clacking against the pavement as the only noise.
Goddess, this was awkward.
But they made it up the walkway, doors opened, and a woman in white was suddenly beside them.
"Welcome."
Inside was… unordinary. It looked like the temple back home, with several pews in the back, but more importantly, statues of and to all the goddesses, and one of Demise underneath Hylia's foot. Same as every temple in Hyrule proper. It was familiar in a disarming way. For a second, she could pretend she was home.
Vaulted ceilings caused her heels to echo off the walls, alerting the entire room to the new presence inside. All heads turned. All eyes suddenly suspicious of the loud intruder into their prayers.
Her footsteps echoed through the main hall until they were joined by another set, a cacophony that lacked the harmony of unison.
Turning, Zelda's eyes locked on Aryll's as the younger girl entered one of the chapels, freezing under Zelda's scrutiny, and looking away, unable to meet her gaze for some reason.
The same blue eyes as Link's haunted her, even here.
"Hello, Priestess," Rivan said to the woman, breaking Zelda from her fixation. "Goddess' Blessings to you."
Distracted, not by the familiar paintings that she'd seen her whole childhood, nor the commissioned statues that were meant to inspire a sense of awe and wonder into all who beheld them. No, she was looking for something far simpler than that.
"Where's my father?"
Rivan cleared his throat, getting Zelda's attention before returning to the Priestess. "This is my fiancée, Miss Zelda Nohansen."
"Ah, the Nohansen family is together at last."
"Yes. And Governor Nohansen said he spoke with you earlier?"
"He did. Come with me."
Rivan gestured for Zelda to follow the woman, led into the back rooms. There were shrines, confessionals, and even rooms for those in need.
Zelda and Rivan were led into a confessional.
When the door closed behind her, Zelda glanced curiously at Rivan. He leaned against the door, stoic and soldierly, at rest in his formal stance.
Something was wrong.
"Come in," the Priestess said, urging Zelda to sit. But confessionals were private places of atonement. Zelda sat uneasily while the woman stood over her. "I hear you've just returned from a terrible ordeal. Kidnapped? By pirates? How terrible for you."
"Yes, it was," Zelda croaked out, her heart racing, hand instinctively reaching for Revali's knife that… where had it gone?
Her clothes. Paya. Her father.
Instead, she sunk further into the seat, looking at the wicker partition that was meant to obscure a priestess from view. To repent in the name of the Goddess, they were the Goddess personified, and looking upon them ruined the illusion.
The Priestess stood before her instead, acting not for the Goddess.
For her father.
The wicker began to look more and more like a cage, and the small room lacked for air. No one had done anything yet, but she could feel it all vacuumed out the instant that she realized this was Rhoam's doing.
"My father isn't here, is he?" She turned to Rivan for confirmation.
He looked uncomfortable. Even remorseful as his pouted lip jutted out while his head shook 'no'. "I'm sorry, Zelda. Your father asked this of me."
Fists tightening in her skirts, this was something she found all-too familiar.
"Your soul is at risk," the Priestess said, leaning towards Zelda. "Your father told me of your deception. You protected those pirates. By rights, you should be imprisoned. At minimum, you should spend time with the brank to teach that mouth of yours what happens when you spout lies with the ease and fluency that you did. But out of respect for the Governor, this is between us. We'll handle this in private, and then move forward with life as you repent. I am only here to intercede on your behalf."
"My soul isn't at risk," Zelda countered. "I was trying to protect a child, not pirates—"
And then, like she'd suddenly been transported through time, she felt a hard sting on her cheek, a force the likes Impa used to deliver. Her hand went up to cover it, and her eyes welled up involuntarily.
"All we want you to do is to beg for the Goddess' forgiveness." The Priestess glared.
Never beg for anything, Miss Nohansen.
Zelda craned her neck backwards, as if that could keep Link's words away.
Maybe she did deserve this. Even now, face to face with one of the holiest of Hylians, she was thinking about the words a pirate had whispered to her in the dark.
"I didn't intend to lie. I just wanted to he—"
Zelda whimpered this time, the palm connecting much more firmly with her cheek.
"I just—" Zelda sighed in defeat, sliding off the chair and onto her knees. Letting out her palms, she leaned down further, holding herself barely above the ground. "I beg the Goddess's forgiveness for my transgressions," Zelda murmured, pressing her forehead into the cool floor tiling.
"Louder. I can't hear you."
A deep breath. A suppressed sigh; she forced out the rest. "I am unworthy of it, for my sins are too many, and too recent, but I beg of her acceptance of my plight."
"Better," the priestess said, her voice much calmer, much more polite. "The Goddess is forgiving to those who deserve it. Only time will tell if that is you. You're to attend Sanctuary daily, and you are to read the Ethereal Chapters. Study them well. The Goddess will become new to you in this way. May she grant you the forgiveness you seek."
Breathing became difficult by her very thoughts and words that thickened the air.
This was her freedom. And it tasted far more bitter than she remembered it.
The priestess knelt before Zelda. "The Goddess herself struggled. She fought Demise in an epic battle that raged for years at a stalemate. Not sleeping. Not eating. Only fighting. Hylia grew older from her time outside the Sacred Realm, but her brittle bones did not break. Nor did her will. It's an eternal battle, like hers with Demise; it's not something that can be won. Neither will yours.
"Conscious and aware, Hylia can still see all, and she knows who she will let through the gates of the Sacred Realm when one day, she can finally let go of her own battle. So until that day when we meet her again, we honor her sacrifice. We weep for the life she gave up so that we might live. And we are forever faithful to the watchful Goddess, who now, filled with power, strength, and wrath from her wretched existence, casts those who would not do as she was willing to. For though she is a divine Goddess, her sacrifice was made as a mortal, and all can do the same. As can you. You'll find the Goddess again, Zelda. Those heathens can't take her from you so easily."
"They didn't," she said weakly, as if the priestess' words were draining her.
"Good. Then we seek to follow her to rid this world of the monsters who would do us harm. Hylia destroyed cities to cleanse evil from their streets, so we overthrow their plans to break us of our faith, and burn their groves with fire. We condemn their actions, and seek to only remain in the good graces of the Goddess Divine. The more we do, the more Hylia can see us. We find the beauty in suffering, the joy in sacrifice, and the hope through the pain. Life was not meant to be simple, nor was it meant to be easy. Things will never get easier."
Zelda glanced at Rivan, her eyes burning under the shameful chastising she was still receiving. And with an audience. It was an endless assault of words. Like Link against a whip, this was her punishment, and it hurt all the same.
"Be faithful when you are called to sacrifice. Love nothing so hard that you can't offer it to the Goddess in her hours of need. All you do should be in her service. And find joy in that. We don't seek answers. We don't ask why. We do not need to understand; we just need to believe. Any who don't will die a painful death, lost in the abyss with none to find you to welcome you home. And those who actively seek evil will burn for eternity with Demise on the day Hylia can permanently cast him out. Don't join them, Zelda. Now, you may go."
Zelda hurriedly brushed past Rivan, her palm covering her still-stinging cheek.
"I'm sorry," he muttered. "Your father… he knows best and…"
But Zelda's glare silenced him. "I'm going to stay and pray until later tonight. Take Paya home. I'll walk."
"Zelda, your father wouldn't like—"
"Tell him I'm praying for forgiveness, and I want to repent alone. In silence."
Rivan's face fell, but he nodded. "I understand. Please have a Priestess send for someone to fetch me if you plan to return late. I'll escort you home."
"I doubt that will be necessary."
His breath brushed her cheek as he sighed, but he bowed his head and spun on his heel out the door.
Zelda licked her dry lips, tasting the stale air. The echoing footsteps of her Priestess bounced off the walls in the same manner her own heels had. And she found herself sinking onto the floor in front of a shrine to the Goddess.
Fourteen lit candles. Fourteen other desperate souls had knelt here today, begging a deaf Goddess to hear their pleas.
Grabbing a wooden wick, she lit a fifteenth candle and shook it out, looking up to a statue who might as well be little more than just that. A statue would look on without mercy or pity.
Her eyes drifted down to the lit candle; at least that was alive.
Tempted by the entrancing flicker of the flame, Zelda imagined what destruction an insignificant, overlooked object like this little candle could cause in the right situation. Her finger reached out for the flame, desperate to be warmed while her spine shivered.
And a gentle hand pushed hers down.
For the briefest moment, Zelda thought it was the Goddess Hylia herself. Framed by the light of the window, a woman stood above her cast in shadow, save for her green eyes. But the woman knelt beside Zelda, revealing a woman. Just that. Not a Goddess, not an ethereal being. Just another Sanctuary Priestess.
Upon realizing the woman was real, Zelda startled, clutching her hand to her chest as she stifled a gasp. "Goddess above!"
The woman chuckled and knelt beside Zelda on the hard ground rather than the bench, but she folded her hands into her lap and watched Zelda with the kindest of expressions.
There was a long silence, something that still itched at Zelda's ears.
The Priestess turned to the Goddess statue. "This morning, I prayed for guidance. What do you pray for?"
"A healthy family," she said automatically. But Zelda glared up at the statue, her hand subconsciously covering her stinging cheek.
"That sounded difficult in there." The Priestess's eyes drifted to the room Zelda had come from, and Zelda fought back a scoff.
But the Priestess's small smile didn't falter. "Our worth isn't measured by what we've done in the past, but what we will do in the future. Your father thinks he's protecting you. The Goddess faults no one for trying their best."
"Since when?" Zelda scoffed, noticing a chain remarkably similar to Link's dangling around her neck. Far more polished and expensive, but the same in design.
The Priestess smiled, kind eyes softening Zelda with little effort. "Words are up for interpretation. How can we mortals be expected to translate the will of a Goddess so directly? No; we all take what we can from Her stories."
"Are you a heretic? You're going to get us both whipped," Zelda hissed, moving to stand but stopping.
The deadly sound, the crack that ripped through Zelda's ears that jolter her own body in time with Link's. The numb and cold that a rope against another's flesh could cause her own body to feel.
He was in her mind again. Perhaps she'd come to understand his pain after all.
Foolish decisions are met with consequences, Urbosa had said.
Perhaps it was what she deserved. She'd acted a fool. Protected pirates. Sympathized with them. Didn't want them dead.
No. Worse: she didn't deserve consequences; she'd earned them.
"I did this to myself. The Goddess knows what punishment is deemed fit for me," she muttered, glaring back at the candle.
"Empathy is a blessing."
"Then why does it feel like a curse?" Zelda scoffed.
On the steps outside the Sanctuary, cool air brushed Zelda's face as a harsh gasp ripped its way free, a sound that cracked her voice and broke down her protective barrier. Tears didn't even have the chance to well-up before they simply cascaded down her cheeks; harsh, guttural sounds tore from her as she tried to breathe and failed, each gasp bringing her closer and closer to that dark ring that was beginning to form around her eyes.
Some subconscious part of her brain told her to get away, to at least stop making a public scene. Her legs carried her into an alleyway where she slid her back down against a wall, arms locked around legs to keep herself wrapped in a tight cocoon of safety and comfort. A fine dress like this would be noticeably wrinkled and stained, but she couldn't even bring herself to care in that moment. Already a disappointment, right? Let her embrace it, then.
She felt disgusting. Tainted by something she hadn't been able to see, ruined by words she'd been intent not to hear. This world of hers had once been understandable. There was nothing that she questioned. Sure, there were things she didn't like, but she'd accepted them, because that's what a proper lady does. Now, though? Now she felt poisoned, like something was slowly making its way through her body, killing her from the inside.
Something that had been put there by Link and the others.
She needed to breathe, and that wasn't going to happen until she could remove the weight sitting heavily on her chest.
Fingers toyed with the hem of her dress as she sat, needing something to fidget with as she thought, calming herself as best as she could. Her mind drifted to the ships afloat in the harbor that had brought her here. They'd started all this when she left Hyrule. But no. That hadn't been the start, had it? It was when Link dragged her across the plank from the Wanderlust to the Epona.
Gathering up her skirts, Zelda made decision to take the the short walk from the sanctuary to the jail, content to simply glare at the building frame as if it could absorb all her malice from her.
Instead, it made her want to scream.
Something about tonight had her off-kilter. When she'd been walking, she'd stumbled over nothing, crashed into walls that were too dark to see, apologized to barrels that might have been people. A foot nearly slipped from its shoe, and she pulled her hair free of its tight, constraining hairstyle, letting the relief overcome her, even at the risk of being seen looking rather wild.
There was a guard pacing a small patrol route in front of the door to the jail. And in that moment, she knew that there would be no relief from simply staring at this building. No. She needed to get inside. She needed to confront a person, not a building.
Reaching down, she picked up a rock from beside a small bush and held it firmly, letting her fingers caress the coarse thing.
So, she threw the stone.
Listening to it bounce and bounce again before rolling to a noiseless stop, Zelda waited to duck inside until the guard was alert to the noise and investigating several steps away from the door. She slipped inside as quickly and soundlessly as she could.
The room was dark, lit only by sconces casting a flickering orange glow that took her eyes a moment to adjust. Instinct screamed at her to grab for Revali's knife, but it wasn't there anymore. Of course it wasn't; she didn't need it on Windfall. Perhaps her vigilance on the beach with the pirates had gotten into her head more than she'd thought, just like everything else.
Blinking through the darkness, she managed to make out the bars that lined either side of the long hallway she had to cross. Someone whistled at her, and she tugged her cloak tighter, keeping her face obscured as she calmly walked into the next room, opening the door, checking to see if there was a guard, ducking inside, and closing it just as quickly.
Thankfully, her shaking hands hadn't rapped the metal enough to make a noise.
She took as steadying a breath as her lungs allowed and listened to the rattle of chains down the hall. Prison cells should be unnerving, right?
Her footsteps echoed thanks to her wretched heels, and she kept her pace as slow and even as she could. Letting her fingers trace along the jagged and rusted metal bars of the cells was a distraction, especially given that there were no occupants in them. Until she spotted it: the one cell that was in use. Her fists tightened around the bars when she stopped.
Link was on the ground, his hair wild and in his face, far less bloodied and disheveled than he'd been on the ship, likely to make him presentable for tomorrow, but she could see his eyes widen as his head looked up with the purest, most sincere expression of surprise. "Miss Nohansen?"
He pulled his shackled legs up to his chest and rested his arms against his knees, as if he were casually sitting on the deck of the ship. His wrists were also chained, and she caught sight of friction burns around his bone. The links slid noisily along the ground as he adjusted.
"What did you do to me?" she whispered desperately, her forehead pressed into the cold bars, her lips parted and drying quickly because no matter how hard she tried, she still wasn't getting enough air through her nose.
"Pardon?"
She pressed her palm against her chest as hard as she could to try to hold her racing heart, willing it to slow down with a desperate prayer to a deaf Goddess, but it only hurt harder, as if a piece of it had broken off and each thud was scraping the surface with jagged edges.
"What have you all done to me?" she asked again, firmer, with less control, her voice cracking.
Goddess above, her chest hurt.
"Why?" he asked, concern etching his features. He sat forward, his eyes going from alert at her presence, to sharp on her cheek. "What's happened? Who did that?" It was almost funny, his concern: he was the one in chains, beaten, bruised, even burnt, after all.
"Everything is wrong!" she said in a burst, all the words tumbling out laced with panic and fear and stress and pain. "This is my world, and I'm not doing it right anymore! What did you do to me that is making this so difficult? You did something, because I was fine before!"
Understanding crossed his features, though he lingered on her red cheek before meeting her eyes. "It's not what we did, Miss Nohansen, it's what you did. I assume Paya is fine."
"You're blaming me for being kidnapped by you? You're the villain here, not me. Not Hyrule." There was a desperate plea in her voice, but it wasn't to Link.
"Who are you trying to convince? Honestly, why did you come here? For a chat we both know is going nowhere? Want someone to fight with you? I'll swing. Or are you here because you wanted someone to say you're wrong; that you're the same person you were when you left the Wanderlust to come with us? I won't say that either. So why are you here?"
"That's…" she started, but her voice caught. Did she even know? "Why are you?" she asked, her voice a whisper. More than anything, her body did not want to answer his question. "You aren't even trying to escape, are you?"
He stood, the jingling of shackles dragging along the hard ground, and made his way to the bars where she stood. Wearily, Link rested his head against them, his face finally cast into the light. It made his marred face look far worse up close.
"This is exactly where I'm meant to be, Miss Nohansen. I've committed my crimes; I searched for my sister. I found her, and now I'll answer for those crimes, content in the knowledge that she's safe. I made my choices, knowing I'd end up here, in this cell, and then out there on those gallows. I've been under no false illusions. For Aryll's sake, I won't run. If they'll do this to the Governor's daughter," he said, reaching a finger just in front of her red cheek, so close yet far enough away, "how would they punish the sister of a pirate? My last act in this life will be to keep her safe, if I can."
He let his hand drop.
"My father is going to torture you for kidnapping me. You won't have a clean death, you know that, right?"
"I've told you before: I'm not afraid to face my fate."
"Do you believe the Goddess will be with you, then? To thank you for that sacrifice?"
"Suffering is not beautiful, Miss Nohansen. A vindicative being in the clouds didn't write my life out in the stars. I wrote it in blood, and that's how I have to pay."
"So poetic," she scoffed.
Link smirked, tired but genuine. "I've had time to think up what my life could have been like if I'd been a bard or a poet. It's rubbing off."
"And?"
"Far more boring."
Zelda's lip twitched, but it stayed weighted down. Her forehead leaned against a different bar from Link's, but she was keenly aware of how they both mirrored each other in their exhaustion. How odd it was to stare at the face of the one person she felt comfortable enough to confront.
Why was she here? As his words swirled around again and again in her mind, she wondered if she really wanted to know the answer to that?
His tired blue eyes swept over her, drinking her in fully one last time. And when their stares locked, he smiled softly. A goodbye.
"Will I see you tomorrow, Miss Nohansen?"
Thick spit made swallowing more difficult, especially around her tight throat. She could try to avoid his sentencing trial all together, but after her recent behavior, she had a sinking suspicion that she'd be forced to go no matter what, to watch the pirate get what he deserves.
"I suppose you'll have to show up to find out," she muttered, nodding her own goodbye to him. She picked up her skirts and jogged toward the door without another word or backward glance, slipping out as carefully as she got in.
And though her mind was swimming, she was still drowning.
She was dressed in the finest clothes that Paya had bought, a lace hat with a wide brim to keep the sun out, a fan in her hand to keep her cool, a thousand petticoats to shape her, though it wasn't enough to blaspheme the Goddess' will that none indulge in appearance.
The crowd was already there in the noon sun, the heat already beating down, the chanting and hissing and booing still as boisterous as it had been an hour ago when it began, before she'd arrived. She'd been to many sentencings in Hyrule proper.
This was a cakewalk.
Until she saw Link sitting on the ground, his hands chained behind him around a wooden plank to prevent him from moving, his ankles shackled together so that he'd have to be dragged back to his cell when this was done.
He looked terrible, worse than she'd actually noticed yesterday, but Zelda could see that a lot of it was intentional.
For one, the blood on his face, clearly beaten before he was brought out, some of the blood still looked wet, specifically around his nose. His hair was wild and dirty, sweat and grease kept some of it matted down. She'd hardly looked at his hair yesterday. His shirt was a bit torn around the collar, exposing his large tattoos that ran from his neck, to his chest a bit more, and his scars, especially the one on his lip and jaw were glistening clean, like they'd specifically been wiped of blood so the entire town square could see that this man was dishonoring the Goddess with permanently inked skin, and that he was violent by reminding them of his scars. It was more apparent that they'd done this on purpose when she realized he still had all his earrings in, from the pointed tip of his ear, to his lobes, every one was still in place. She imagined he might even still have some rings on, if she'd remembered to look. She was only surprised they didn't have his hands out on display at this point. The tattoos on his knuckles were particularly disarming at first.
But she did notice one thing was gone: his necklace with the Goddess' symbol. And though his arms were covered by his sleeves, they'd rolled them enough to expose his tattoos, but not enough to show the one of the Goddess herself.
It was all a show.
When she followed her father and Rivan onto the dais that they'd be sitting on, just off to the side of Link, his eyes snapped to hers.
She had to look away, but she could still feel their burning attention.
Her father gestured for her and Rivan to sit while he remained on his feet. "The Goddess has blessed us these past few days for our pious devotion. My daughter, Zelda Nohansen, was safely removed from the custody of pirates who attempted to kidnap and ransom her, or otherwise kill her.
"You know of piracy from stories, you see the posters calling for their arrest. Today, the fearsome monster before you has been removed from the sea, and the world is the safer for it. That creature you fear is nothing when up against the will of Hylia herself. Chained up, like an animal. Trapped, like prey. Today, we are here for the fairness of a trial, to hear the crimes of the accused, and to sentence his punishments accordingly."
Rhoam sat down and gestured to someone closer to Link. Zelda assumed he was just a crier, but he rolled out a long parchment. Zelda dared a glance at Link, and feeling her gaze, he met it, raising his eyebrow almost comically at her.
"In the case Link Woods, you stand accused of recking havoc on the high seas, and on the lands of our Goddess with crimes heretofore listed: high seas piracy, treason, willful murder, kidnapping, extortion, seizing control of a ship by force, destruction of a ship or its cargo, lechery, theft, arson, smuggling, forgery, sailing under false colors with malicious deceit, defiling…"
Zelda took the time during the—admittedly—long list of crimes to look around the crowd. There was a murmur of imperfect silence, and every now and then, someone would call out 'burn him' 'hang him' kill him' at the listing of a crime. The hairs on the back of her neck prickled, and she turned to Rivan, only to see both her father and him staring at her, making sure she was hearing every word that was being said.
She turned away from everyone, her nose down, her eyes cast upon the wood below her feet.
"… against the Goddess. Do you deny these accusations?"
Her eyes darted up again.
Link was looking at her, then to her father, and then Rivan before finally, slowly and deliberately, to the crier. "Does it matter?"
"Do you deny them?" he asked more firmly.
Link smirked, looking away. "Fuck no. I'd do them all again."
There was a clash of bones on skin as the crier swung, and Link wheezed lightly. Zelda tried not to react, but she wanted to at least cover her mouth to hide her grimace. She couldn't, not with everyone watching her, making sure she was on their side still. But here she was, watching a beaten man defend the last of his pride. There was something almost painfully sad about that, regardless of who it was.
"You foul-mouthed, unrepentant knave! Have you no shame or regret?"
"Oh, of course," Link cooed, "I regret that didn't have the chance to help burn this island to the ground. But it's of no matter to me; there hundreds of us. And we're coming for you, Governor. For all of you."
Rhoam stood, pressing the tips of his fingers into the railing, only betraying their tenseness to Zelda and Rivan directly beside him.
"In light of the accusations presented before this court and against my family personally, I, Governor Rhoam Nohansen of Windfall Island, Principality of the Kingdom of Hyrule, sentence you to be hanged, drawn, and quartered, after which, you will be beheaded: your head on a spike in the harbor as a warning to all that piracy is not tolerated so long as I am governor here. And your body will be left for the animals, where you belong. The execution will take place at the end of the week. Take him back to his cell."
It was difficult to swallow. Zelda was unsure how Link kept his face so impassively calm at the brutal sentencing. She couldn't look away from him, especially when he turned knowingly to her. He'd already predicted this would be his outcome.
Rhoam grabbed Zelda by the arm and leaned in close to her ear. "You will be attending the entire execution, my sweet Zelda, to see retribution served to one of those who did you harm."
She shivered and closed her eyes to keep herself from getting sick at the thought. So she simply nodded.
Surrounded. That's what she was. Link's eyes were on her from where he knelt, her father and Rivan beside her, and the Goddess above.
The Goddess's retribution could be cruel, and Zelda knew that as soon as any member of The Epona would be captured, they'd face an equally horrific death that she'd have to stand and watch and endure.
She had to find a way to adapt.
She had to.
Responses: QueenEmily: THANK YOU! I'm glad you're enjoying it! :) Alice-Ann Wonderland: She's DEFINITELY feeling that tension now! It's getting harder for her to see the world as she used to! Zeedry: I'll... um... let you keep guessing about when this fic will end bahahaha! And here's your visiting scene! Originally, it was in the last chapter, but I thought it worked better here