The – Pumpkiny – Results of Gossip
~oOo~
"Link! Put that food down and come outside this instant! If you don't stop eating that much, you're going to get fat," the blonde, bright-eyed little girl declared, a disapproving look on her cherubic face. "And if that happens, your loftwing won't be able to carry you when you finally get to meet it! Then what will you do?"
The equally cherubic face of the little boy that was the target of her frown leaned away from her in alarm, protecting the bowl in his hands by clutching it to his chest.
"I'm not fat yet, and I've always eaten this much, Zelda," he frowned back at her, deliberately lifting his spoon and slurping up a good mouthful of his soup in defiance.
"That's just because it takes a long time to get fat," she shot back, setting little clenched fists atop her hips in a stance she'd seen many of the adults use when scolding someone. "But one day, you'll wake up and be as round as Cawlin."
"Hey!" Link protested around the other boy's angry shout as a couple of the other children snickered, "I'm never going to look like Cawlin, 'cause I'm already taller than he is!" And he took another deliberate slurp of his beloved pumpkin soup.
An exasperated, "Glutton!" was her answer to that, and she stomped over to her best friend (even if he didn't seem very happy to have her undivided attention at the moment), and began determinedly trying to pry the bowl away from him.
"Leave my food alone, Zel! This is only my third serving," he scowled as he tried to keep her smaller, slightly more nimble fingers from getting a good grip on his bowl.
To the adults in the room, who had been listening with interest to the two six-year olds argue over Link's eating habits, the danger was clear. However, their attempts to avert disaster came just a little too late, as the struggle between them caused the bowl of soup to go tumbling out of their little hands, spilling thick, orange liquid all over them... and their immediate surroundings. (Which just so happened to include Groose and his pompadour, who was sitting nearby because he was trying to be as close as he could to Zelda.)
Shocked, the two stilled for several seconds, and then Zelda let out a loud shriek as her normally bright, cheerful little features flushed with temper and went vengeful almost instantly. "You jerk, I'm gonna get you for that!"
Before any of the speechless adults could reach them, Zelda grabbed a nearby bowl – disregarding Fledge's indignant squawk as she appropriated his lunch – and dumped the whole thing over Link's head.
Suddenly, food started flying around the room as the other kids decided to get in on the fun (besides Fledge, who just looked alarmed and scrambled to get out of range). Groose's expression, as he patted his pompadour to make sure none of the thick, orange substance had gotten in it, was a dead giveaway that all hell was about to break loose, as his eyes locked on a dripping Link with furious glee. Several of the adults – including Zelda's father – tried to get the children to stop, but it wasn't until Henya's infuriated shout broke through the children's preoccupation, that things came to a sudden screeching halt as all the children froze in place.
It was very interesting to watch the realization that they were about to be dropped in very hot water flood across a roomful of six-and-seven year old faces. But by then, there was pumpkin soup dripping from the walls, tables, and all of them, as well, and the-now-gloomy group realized that they were probably going to be spending the rest of the day cleaning the mess they'd just made.
Every stubby, childish finger in attendance – with impressive synchronicity – pointed at Link and Zelda, who were were staring wide-eyed at each other, and yelled, "They started it!"
All the children flinched when Henya inhaled, but before she could get started with her intended harangue, she was interrupted by deep, booming laughter. Confused, the eyes of every child (and most of the adults) in the room swiveled to stare at the progenitor of that bit of - rather inappropriate, most would agree - hilarity.
"Um, Headmaster, are you feeling alright?" Professor Horwell finally asked tentatively.
Gaepora nodded, but his chuckled, "I'm quite fine, Horwell, very well, indeed," only seemed to confuse everyone even more. "Private bit of humor, that's all." Already having – very entertaining - little spats, and they haven't even passed a decade in age yet. This old island is in for a very interesting future, by the goddess. I hope I'm still around to see it.
Henya scowled even harder at the Headmaster's flippant-seeming amusement. "If it's so funny, then maybe you'd like to help the little monsters with the cleaning," she suggested ominously.
He waved her off with an easy grin. "Oh, no, I'm afraid I'm going to have to decline your generous offer. I'm a bit old to be doing that much heavy cleaning, and there are plenty of guilty little hands in here to take my place."
Then he glanced around the room at all the kids that were now beginning to shift rather uncomfortably in their cold, wet clothes, and tried to straighten out his expression to reflect the seriousness of the situation – though without much luck.
"I suppose lessons will have to be curtailed for the day. Go home and get yourselves washed up and into clean clothes, and then return here to help clean the mess you've made. And I would hurry, if I were you, because the longer this sits, the harder it will be to wash away. Link, Zelda, you two come with me."
The two that had started the whole thing hung their heads with embarrassment and scooted out of the room after the Headmaster as the others all slunk guiltily off home, a still-irate Henya muttering dire threats under her breath as she glared at the incredible mess left behind.
Pumpkin soup was great to eat, but it was never intended to be used as paint, and that fact was painfully apparent as it dripped thickly from nearly every surface in the room.
~oOo~
A short time later, Link was handed a tunic and trousers, which - though a little on the large side – would work well enough for the time being.
"Once you are finished washing and dressing, Link, come to my office," the Headmaster had instructed before leaving him to attend to his daughter, so the young boy quietly did as he'd been told. When he arrived some good amount of time later, Zelda and her father were already within, and he shuffled inside and closed the door behind him as the Headmaster had commanded.
Link glanced guiltily at his best friend before looking back down at the floor, worried that she wouldn't want to be his friend anymore because of what had happened. It had been an accident, but she had really been mad, madder than she'd ever been at him in the year or so that they'd been friends.
Before Gaepora could speak, Link blurted out a hurried apology to the small girl, completely unable to look at her anymore for fear of what expression would be on her face. "I'm sorry, Zelda, I didn't mean for all of that to happen, honest!"
His answer was a quick hug, and when his eyes flew up to lock on the little girl in surprise, hers were scrunched up and teary, surprising him even more.
"You don't have to say sorry. It was my fault," she whispered, shamefaced. "I shouldn't have tried to grab your food from you."
"But-"
Gaepora interrupted there. "Zelda is right, Link. She should not have tried to take your food away. But you both had equal parts in what occurred after, and you're both going to have to work very hard to help clean up the results, understand?"
"Are... are we going to be in more trouble than just having to clean up?" Link asked uncertainly, not sure he should be giving their elder the idea of further punishment if he had not already thought of it, but unable to help himself.
"Not from me, though I cannot speak for your parents, Link. But personally, I think having to get all that now-dried soup off everything in the room is punishment enough. I daresay you two will never do anything like this again after it's all said and done."
Both children nodded their heads rapidly in agreement. Neither of them would ever do something like that again, that was for certain.
"Well, then, I believe it is time to go gather the supplies you'll be needing. The sooner started, the sooner done, as they say."
Link and Zelda followed behind him quietly as he led them from the room, glancing nervously at each other several times as they walked. But neither of them spoke until they'd each been given a bucket of water, a rag, and soap, and then been left in the room to begin the arduous task of cleaning up the awful mess.
"So... umm, why were you so mad at me about my lunch?" Link finally asked in a very subdued tone of voice, as he picked a wall and started scrubbing at the now-dried orange substance liberally adorning it. "I always eat a lot, and you've never said anything before."
"I was trying to protect you," the little girl said, voice wobbling dangerously. "Are you... still mad at me?"
Link just looked confused, staring at her in surprise as she continued to scrub at the orange stains in front of her, unable to meet his eyes.
He shook his head. "No... but... what were you trying to protect me from?"
At that, Zelda glanced rapidly around the room to make sure no one else was in sight, and then blurted out her answer.
"I heard Parrow telling Piper the other day that if Goselle didn't stop eating so much, she was going to explode. Then, when I saw you eating all that soup, I got scared. I didn't want that to happen to you."
Henya, who was still scowling, was just about to walk into the room when she overheard Zelda's statement, and suddenly, the whole thing took on a hilarity she hadn't felt until just that very moment. She'd often said the same thing about Goselle's eating habits, but it wasn't surprising that the small girl had been scared by such words, rather than amused. At her age, the euphemistic nature of the phrase would have gone straight over her head. No wonder she'd tried to stop Link from eating what she felt was too much.
Inside the room, Link blinked at his best friend's explanation, a little alarmed. He loved food, but on the other hand, he didn't want to explode. That would probably hurt really bad. "Does that happen? I've never seen anybody explode after eating."
"Me either," Zelda sniffled a little, going back to washing the wall she'd picked. "But if an adult said it, it has to be true, right? I mean, if it wasn't, that would be lying, and lying is bad. If you get caught you get in trouble, and Parrow's not getting punished for what he said, even though Piper heard him say it."
Link couldn't deny her logic. He looked down at his hands as they nervously wrung at the bit of cloth he was holding. "Thank you for trying to save me, Zel. I'm really sorry I argued with you."
The little girl dropped the rag in her hands and darted over to hug the equally small boy. "It's okay, Link. But please don't eat so much that you explode, promise? I don't want anything bad to happen to you."
Link let the rag in his own hands drop to the floor, as well, and hugged her back with all his six-year old might. "I promise, Zel," he whispered in her ear as she clutched at him in return. "I'll only ask for seconds anymore, and not thirds."
Zelda pulled back from the hug and looked at her best friend in all the world out of solemn young eyes, then nodded, tucking a strand of damp, freshly-washed hair behind her ear. "I guess seconds are okay," she agreed, "since you eat that much all the time, and you've never exploded."
Henya almost collapsed, trying to hold in her laughter at the entirely serious way the two children had discussed something that was really nothing more than somewhat mean gossip. That right there was exactly why she worked at the academy – because the things that came out of children's mouths in complete innocence were oftimes much more amusing by sheer accident, than anything that adults said when deliberately trying to crack a joke.
Straightening up rather hurriedly as Owlan appeared around a corner leading several of the children towards the dining room carrying their own buckets of soapy water and washrags, she filed that little tidbit of gossip about Goselle carefully away. Plastering a scowl on her face once more, she found a clean bench and took a seat to oversee the group of children and make sure no further fights broke out.
Honestly, the academy probably wouldn't survive if they did, with this particular group. They were just about the most mischievous class that she'd seen pass through the ancient building in all the years she'd worked there.
Hylia help us... this old place might just be doomed, she sighed to herself. And we adults are most likely just as doomed as the building and all its contents are.
She could never have guessed how very right she was.
