Chapter 12: Mortality Foiled

\-==/\==-/

In following days, the Champions each departed with their companions for their homeland. Urbosa was the last to leave, and Link suspected it was because of how downhearted the Princess had been after the ceremony. He made sure to give them as much privacy as he could, his heart aching a little as he wondered what it would be like to have a mother figure like that. Someone other than Choice, someone human and loving, who could comfort him after his nightmares. After his training sessions.

Urbosa spent a week at the castle after the ceremony before she and her guards finally departed for the desert. The Princess returned to her daily routine, spending more time than usual on her prayers and less time researching ancient Sheikah history.

It was easy during that time for Link's mind to wander away from his task - sometimes out of sheer boredom - but as the days droned on, he worked to build a continuous awareness of his surroundings. He had already accomplished this on the field of battle, often practicing blindfolded in order to stretch his senses to their limits. Of course, with adrenaline surging through his veins, it was easier to enter a state of hyper-alertness. In the peaceful quiet of the library or the Princess' study or wherever else she journeyed throughout the day, he found it much more difficult a task.

He was determined not to fail; day by day he found himself just a little more focused than the day before. He learned, through trial and error, where to stand behind the Princess such that he was close enough to prevent an immediate attack while still positioned to see almost the entire room without moving his head.

"A single moment can change everything," Captain Janin had schooled him years before. "Never drop your guard."

So he watched, his eyes roving to keep track of every other person in the presence of the Princess, his ears alert for the sound of footsteps, for hushed whispers or the unstopping of a vial or the hiss of a blade unsheathed. He had never done anything like this before, but he vowed to himself that he would learn, and learn quickly, to keep his charge safe.

\-==/\==-/

As the days wore on, his nightmares began to change.

No longer was he alone in the shrouded forest of his childhood. There was another set of footsteps alongside his, and someone else's breathless panting filled his ears as the two of them sprinted through the darkness. Whoever it was introduced a new layer of fear to the dreams - all he could think of were the mutilated bodies of his parents, and at the thought of such a thing happening to his new mysterious companion his heart squeezed within him and his eyes burned with fiery tears.

And yet, no matter what he did, his companion always ended up dead. He heard the screams, a woman's screams, half-choked by breathless sobs of agony; he heard the sudden silence when the monsters finally ended her life, heard her whimpers abruptly cut short.

He didn't know how it happened, how they were separated. Somehow amidst all of the fighting she got away from him, and when he heard her screams he turned involuntarily towards the sound, blind in the blackness of the forest. He clawed his way through brambles that tore at his hair and clothes, or perhaps they were the claws of monsters; he felt the burning sting of blades on his skin as he rushed past enemies in his haste to get to his companion.

He was always too late. Her cries were always cut short mere seconds before he reached her, and it was always too dark for him to see just who she was. And as he reached out blindly he found her body, already cold while her hot blood soaked his fingers; it felt like acid as he wept for someone he did not know, someone that he cared about deeply nonetheless.

The nightmares all ended the same way. He felt a push from behind followed by excruciating pain that stole his breath. Torchlight sputtered over the bloodied forest but instead of looking to see his companion's identity he looked down to find out what had happened to him.

There was no blade. He had not felt it being removed. And yet there was a hole, a large one, right in the center of his chest, leaking blood at an alarming rate.

His breath returned in a frightening rush of air and he screamed, every inch of his skin erupting with white-hot agony, and he woke up, shooting upright in bed with his nightshirt clinging to his sweat-soaked body, tears still stinging his eyes.

He could only hope that no one heard the screams.

\-==/\==-/

It seemed that the Princess wasn't sleeping well, either. Link found her several mornings with red-rimmed eyes, her face a mask of raw exhaustion and sadness. She never said a word to anyone about nightmares; it was more likely, he thought, that she simply stayed up late at night to pray. She always looked the most unhappy after a prayer.

It wasn't uncommon, following her daily sessions in the castle's private cathedral, for her to order a snack brought up to her study. Having something to eat seemed to brighten her spirits, something Link could relate to all too well; before Choice entered his life he had recovered from his training sessions by experimenting with various ingredients and wolfing down the results.

The Princess was always very careful not to leave any crumbs on her desk or the diagrams and notebooks scattered across it. Link couldn't help but find it amusing that she took such great care not to get her materials dirty, and yet her study as a whole could hardly be called clean, as it was practically buried beneath papers and stacks of books.

He had to take great care not to smile as she studiously held a biscuit in one hand and a quill pen in the other, jotting notes down quick enough to send ink splashing over her sleeve and nose.

She's… quite endearing, he thought, his heart warm as he gazed at her, before remembering that he was supposed to be focusing on everything else. He straightened his shoulders and returned his attention to the rest of the room.

She hadn't said a word to him ever since the ceremony appointing him as her knight. The realization didn't fail to prick his heart like a needle, and he took care to always keep his hands gloved to hide the tender new skin across his palm. He wished he could make things better between the two of them, but Urbosa's words explaining that he reminded the Princess of her failures hovered constantly in his mind.

Perhaps it's better that I'm invisible. Goodness knows she's upset enough as it is.

\-==/\==-/

"Purah! You made it - how did you convince my father?" The Princess was beaming from ear to ear - a rare sight indeed.

The eccentric Sheikah scientist waltzed into the library, her arms full of scrolls. "Check it!" she sang, twirling around. "It was easy! I told him I needed to examine something in those dusty old scrolls you've been looking at. It's all in the name of science - and the kingdom's salvation - so of course he let me in!"

"I'm delighted to see you again," the Princess grinned. She turned to one of the few attendants that stayed with her throughout the day. "Serro, please send for some refreshments. Fruitcake would be nice - this is a special occasion."

"Yes, Princess," the servant bowed neatly, turning and walking quickly towards the library doors.

"It's bad manners to eat when you're reading," Purah tsked. She smirked. "So it's a great idea! What kind of fruit'll be in this fruitcake?"

"Oh, they change it every so often," the Princess smiled. "My particular favorite includes apples and berries…"

Link let his attention drift away from their conversation. Purah wasn't a threat; he knew he could trust her around the Princess. He watched the doors into the library and scanned the upper levels, pinpointing the most strategic location for an archer to hide and keeping careful note of everyone who passed the area. He also kept an eye on the two secret entrances into the library, both hidden behind sturdy metal bookcases.

It had been exciting, getting access to complete maps of the castle - all of the secret passageways, the ancient tunnels, the hidden alcoves…

Then it had occurred to him that he would only use them if he was either trying to flee with the Princess or if he was tracking an assassin, and his excitement deflated a little.

A woman on the second level coughed into her sleeve, hunching over for a brief moment before continuing her browse for books. An old man with thick white hair carried a large stack of books up the stairs, wearing the dark maroon overcoat of the castle's bookkeepers. He muttered something under his breath as he adjusted the weight of the burden in his arms. A knight - Sir Grankles - kicked his feet up on a small table, scratching his nose before turning the page in the book he was currently reading. Another bookkeeper walked over to him and flirtatiously slid her hand across his shoulder, whispering something in his ear that made him grin.

The servant Serro returned, holding a tray bearing a lovely frosted fruitcake along with two ceramic plates, a knife, and a pair of forks. He said nothing as he approached, leaving the Princess and Purah to their animated conversation, and began cutting a slice of cake for each of them.

A single instant was all it took, just as Janin had said. The light from the chandeliers up above reflected off of the glass of a small vial of something hidden up the servant's sleeve, visible in just a split-second of a moment as a glittering drop of liquid landed on a piece of the cake. Link's brow furrowed.

"Here we are, ladies," the servant said with a wide smile, holding out a piece of the cake to each of them.

The Princess was handed the plate that had been tampered with. Link took a step forward, his pulse rapidly accelerating and his mouth going quickly dry.

"Thank you, Serro," the Princess smiled. "Ooh, what is this fruit? I don't believe I'm familiar with it…"

"It's a slice from a banana - they're from the Faron region," the servant smiled politely, bowing and once again walking from the room. Link took a half step towards him before looking anxiously back at the Princess. She had taken her fork and lifted it above her slice of cake, her attention returning to Purah as they continued their conversation.

Link's heart raced. He hurried closer to the Princess and hesitated, unsure what to do. Goddess Nayru, guide me! he prayed anxiously. As her fork came down, he reached out and snatched the plate away. "Not this one, Princess," he said firmly, and she whirled around to face him with surprise and a hint of anger gleaming in her large green eyes.

"What are you doing?" she demanded. "Put that back down this instant!"

"I - I can't do that, Princess," he said, stumbling over his words. Do I tell her? Do I tell her someone's trying to kill her?

He thought of the dark circles under her eyes in the morning, of the dull, weary look reflected in their emerald depths, of the way she stiffened beneath the glares of practically everyone she encountered.

The thought that someone hates her enough to want her dead wouldn't help. She'd feel terrible about it - not to mention she might be frightened.

He almost snorted. Might be? No, no, of course she'll be frightened! Who wouldn't? Someone wants her dead!

"Er… this cake," he gulped, his heart hammering in his throat. "It's… not the best piece," he finished halfheartedly.

The Princess rolled her eyes. "If you wanted a piece for yourself, you could just say so," she huffed, taking the knife Serro had left behind and cutting herself another slice.

"That's… not… it should really just be thrown away," he protested, feeling his cheeks heating with embarrassment.

The Princess' eyes burned with hurt and shame as she glanced at him again. "I see. So not even the best chefs in the kingdom are good enough for you." Her voice trembled, and she inhaled deeply. "I find nothing wrong with this cake, Appointed Knight. In fact, it's one of my favorite dishes. You offend me, and you offend the hardworking people who made it, with your words. I won't allow you to throw it away; I command you to eat it. Right now."

Link clenched his teeth together to keep his jaw from dropping. "But -"

"Eat it!" the Princess demanded. "Would you disobey an order?"

"Princess…" he murmured helplessly, looking between her and the slice of cake with a furrowed brow. She said nothing, watching him through narrowed eyes, her arms folded expectantly.

He gulped. The… the tip should be safe, right? He closed his eyes, trying to remember the split second glimpse of glittering liquid dripping onto the cake. Honestly, I might've imagined the whole thing. But the drop probably landed on the middle. Yeah, that's probably what happened.

His mouth felt dry. The Princess hadn't offered him a fork and he didn't dare ask; he held the plate up to his mouth and carefully lifted the cake in one hand, biting off the tip. He swallowed it without chewing, too afraid of what he might find if he took the time to actually taste it. His throat ached afterwards; it was a bigger bite than he had intended.

Purah frowned, and the Princess scoffed as he tried to set the plate back down. "No, that's not – you didn't finish it!" she protested, her cheeks coloring angrily. "Let this be a lesson in humility to you – eat that cake this instant! I don't want to see a single crumb left on that plate!"

Link winced, eyeing the rest of the cake uncertainly. Din curse it! Where else might be safe? Another corner? Maybe I just nibble the edges? "I – I don't think this is wise, Princess," he tried again, attempting to set the plate down on the tray, but the Princess blocked him with her hands, covering the empty spaces on the tray. Purah stifled a slight uncomfortable giggle, her eyebrows raised.

"No, you're not getting out of this!" she insisted, her voice increasing in pitch, glaring daggers. "I don't see why you're making such a fuss! Just eat it!"

"Maybe he just doesn't like fruitcake," Purah pointed out hastily, watching the Princess with concern. "My sister can't stand it, either – says it's too sweet for her. Can't imagine that, myself, but – different tastes, right?" She chuckled, but Link could tell it was forced.

The Princess seemed to cool down, settling back into her chair. "One more bite," she glowered. "Then I'll let it drop."

Link nodded quickly, relieved, wishing he could thank Purah somehow. He doubted she had done it for his sake, but rather because of the Princess' rising fury; nonetheless he was grateful. Okay. One bite. I can do that. Right?

He lifted the cake again and felt nauseous merely at the sight. Oh, Goddesses – that first bite was poisoned! No, no, it wasn't – couldn't have been – I just don't like this situation; that's all –

He felt mounting pressure between his shoulder blades and drew in a trembling breath, biting back nausea, he bit off one of the back corners of the cake and chewed quickly, wincing at how absurdly sweet it was, feeling nausea rise in his gut once again as he quickly swallowed it. Too sweet, indeed. Goddesses above!

But he was reasonably confident now that the sweetness was indeed the cause of his stomach's slight protests. At least, he hoped.

The Princess smiled with grim satisfaction. "Well?"

He sighed and shook his head. "I… I'm sorry, Princess," he tried, moving to set the plate back down, and she moved her hand out of the way, nodding haughtily at him before turning back to her books. Yeah… maybe I imagined it. Maybe I was seeing things. Maybe it'll all be alright. Maybe that servant left right after delivering this because he had to take something back to the cooks, or… or something, not because he was fleeing the crime scene.

He inhaled shakily. I should summon another guard to take over for me, he thought. Then… maybe I can try to get myself to cough this back up. Just in case.

But I can't just abandon my post - I'll have to wait until she leaves the library, and even then I might not come across anyone who could take over for me, or send a message to someone who can…

He realized that his hands had tightened into fists. Breathing deeply, he let them relax. I have to tell her. I have to tell her, or I might die. "It was poisoned," he said as calmly as he could, his pulse still throbbing in his throat. The Princess look up at him, frowning. Link wet his lips and continued. "The servant who brought it. Serros. I saw him put a drop of something onto the slice of cake he handed you."

"Then why didn't you say so in the first place?"

"I…" Was he feeling dizzy? Was his heart beating faster than normal? Was that nausea bubbling in his gut or was it just anxiety? "I didn't… want to unnecessarily worry anyone." I thought I could take care of it on my own, without getting her upset. A better knight, a more experienced and wiser one, wouldn't have had any trouble.

The Princess shook her head, curling her lip in disgust. "You're making this up, trying to save face. You wouldn't want to ruin your image."

"That's not it," Link insisted. The Princess didn't even look at him this time, returning to her conversation with Purah even as the Sheikah scientist glanced at him curiously every once in a while.

It'll be alright, he told himself, feeling cold with uncertainty as he took a step back, trying to resume his systematic observation of the library's occupants. Everything is going to be fine.

As he continued to sweat, he told himself it was just stuffy in the library - not enough fresh air. And it was a warm day anyway.

The sickening nausea in his gut was just nerves. Nothing harmful. He was shaken by everything that had happened; that was all.

The slight numb tingling his mouth must have come from the banana. Maybe he was slightly allergic. It wasn't anything to worry about.

The minutes ticked by and he began to feel dizzy. I haven't had enough water today, he told himself firmly. And I've been standing still all morning. That's why.

He wiped perspiration from his brow with his forearm and his vision wavered. Must've gotten a drop of sweat into my eye.

The next time he glanced in Sir Grankle's direction, he was gone. Link swallowed nervously, telling himself he must have noticed the knight leaving and then forgotten about it. I can't have missed it - I've been so careful!

He forced thoughts of poison from his mind, anxiously licking his lips. Everything's fine. Everything's fine, he assured himself, over and over. Stop worrying and do your job!

His pulse had slowed over the course of the remaining half hour the Princess spent in the library. He told himself that this was proof he wasn't poisoned; wouldn't poison quicken his heartbeat? It was what he had heard.

With a smile, the Princess finally gathered up her books and waved for an attendant to take away the plates, platter, and forks remaining from the fruitcake, along with the remnants of the piece he had partially eaten. Link felt a wave of nausea at the mere sight it; he was glad when it was gone. Breathing in as deeply as he could, he followed his charge and her friend from the library, out into the corridor.

"You'll come with me to my study?" the Princess asked, her voice sounding lighter than it had in several days.

"Sure!" Purah skipped a little over the regal red carpeting, grinning widely. "I've been meaning to ask about those old maps you were looking at. Find anything about the Great Plateau region?"

They began to ascend a staircase. "The text is old, very old, but it seems to be discussing a medical chamber. Those… aren't the words used, but it's the best interpretation I've managed to derive. I'm hoping you'll be able to decipher more of it; you know the ancient Sheikah language better than anyone I know."

"You should meet my little sister," Purah grinned. "Not so little anymore, of course, and she's a real pain in the rear without any sense of humor or fun, but she's quite the historian. Don't you ever tell her I said that!"

"I won't," the Princess chuckled. "I don't think you've mentioned your sister before - don't you get along?"

"Oh, well, you know," Purah waved her hand dismissively. "I've got my work with the ancient Sheikah technology project, and she's got her studies, training to be the next leader of Kakariko Village… Blergh. Much too stuffy, in my opinion. While she thinks I don't care enough about responsibility. Not that we don't care about each other, of course…"

Their words sounded far away, and Link's blood pounded in his ears. He was thoroughly out of breath when they reached the top of the stairs, panting heavily, feeling as if there wasn't enough air in the entire world to truly fill his lungs. Sweat dripped down his face and between his shoulder blades and he shook his head, trying to clear it of the thick fog slowing his thoughts. Something's wrong… something's wrong, he thought woozily. It wasn't a particularly long climb; it was one that he made at least five times up and down each day. His arms and legs shouldn't be burning like this after something so unstrenuous.

He took another step and pain shot through his legs. Caught completely off guard he crumpled to the floor, a spasm shaking his calf; breathing hard, he quickly tried to push himself to his feet only to find that he couldn't. His arms hurt just as much as his legs. His pulse throbbed in his throat, much too slow; sweat covered him like a blanket and he felt as if he were being smothered. He grit his teeth together, suppressing a moan as another convulsion shook his body.

"Sir Link?" It was Purah's voice, and she sounded confused. Link tried again to stand, his limbs trembling, his vision choppy as he saw the Sheikah scientist coming towards him. He couldn't get up; spasms twisted through his body, and he collapsed forward, grunting in discomfort. "Sir Link?" Purah sounded frightened now.

"What is it?" He could see the Princess above him now. Or, at least, he was at eye-level with the bottom of her dress. "Merciful Din - !"

Link ground his teeth together. It was poisoned, and I accidentally got the poisoned part, and now I'm dying; I've failed Janin's and the King's and the General's expectations and I'm dying!

He was determined not to go to his grave looking like a child in pain. He would keep the stony mask he'd developed in place until the very end.

"Purah, go get help!" the Princess exclaimed fearfully. "You know where to go?"

All traces of glibness had been erased from the Sheikah woman's expression and she nodded. "Right away," she promised, and Link heard her rapid footsteps fading as she bolted back down the stairs.

With the next wave of painful convulsions that wracked his frame his arms gave beneath him and he fell to his stomach; the cold stone beneath him did nothing to ease the violent storm of nausea raging in his gut. He shut his eyes tightly; his hands curled into fists as his limbs moved sluggishly to get himself in a position he could stand up from. It didn't work and he flopped onto his side and then his back, his shallow breaths hissing rapidly through his clenched teeth. His heart felt like a desperate creature trapped inside of him, trying to get out but quickly growing weaker.

It occurred to him dimly that Purah would take a while to get back, that he could be dead by then, that the Princess would be left without protection.

No! What if that dog Serros comes back to make sure he finished the job?

He opened his eyes, only to see a confusing blur above him. He could still hear; he could hear the Princess awkwardly telling him it would be alright, could feel her light touch on his shoulder, an attempt at comfort, and the painful thought occurred to him that maybe she wouldn't mind if he died. Then she might get assigned a guard who doesn't make her feel bad about herself just by being in the same room as her.

Din curse it. Din curse me!

His dizzy thoughts were growing more and more distracted. He fought with his body, trying to force himself to roll over so that he could get to his knees and vomit up the poisoned cake and maybe everything would fix itself, but his limbs weren't listening to him. They burned one instant and felt as cold as winter the next; sweat coursed over his body, trapping him in a damp, itchy vise as tremors gripped his shoulders.

He didn't know how much time passed as he lay in agony at the top of the stairwell, but at some point voices echoed up towards him and he heard the approaching tramp of footsteps. Someone flipped him back over onto his stomach and forced him into a kneeling position; his limbs were shaking so badly by then that he knew he couldn't have held himself up on his own.

Someone else - he couldn't tell who; his vision had deteriorated to a confusing blur and even his hearing was beginning to dim - stuck something down his throat and his body heaved involuntarily as he gagged, half-choking; the storm of nausea tearing up his stomach was suddenly a hundred times worse and he threw up violently, coughing, his senses blinking out one by one as if they were candles pinched by wet fingers.

He heard the Princess sobbing, heard her whimpering about how she wished she had listened to someone, how she hated herself and hated someone called 'him,' and then everything went dark.


Updated 7/8