Chapter 14: A Warm Welcome
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Only the stable manager and a few workers were awake when they set out the next morning. The horses were ready and waiting outside; Link eyed Choice's coat critically, convinced that the grooms hadn't done as thorough a job as they should have for his beloved mare. Although she was already saddled and bridled, he couldn't resist running a brush quickly over her shoulders and hindquarters, and he double-checked her hooves before hopping into the saddle.
Choice turned her head to look back at him, amusement clear in her deep brown eyes. Link bit back a grin. Okay, okay, I'll admit I'm a little paranoid when it comes to you. But you're really my only true friend - you deserve only the finest treatment!
He was feeling much more cheerful than he had when he and the Princess first set out the previous day. Perhaps it was the smell, he decided; after yesterday's rains, the silky grass of Rowan Plain smelled fresh and clean. The bark of the few pines along the trail added their warm vanilla bean aroma to the mix, and of course the plentiful wildflowers laced the air with their sweet fragrances. The wind in his hair, the birds singing and insects humming, the feel of sturdy reins in his hands…
When I die, I hope it's like this, all the time, he thought in contentment, breathing in deep the crisp wild air. Even the Princess didn't seem as unhappy as usual, despite her rough night.
The temperature swiftly cooled as they followed the trail around the northern end of Tanagar Canyon, climbing higher in elevation into the Tabantha region. The wind carried more of a bite, whistling down from the snow-capped Hebra Mountains, where nothing ever melted, or so it was said. Link pulled his cloak tighter around his shoulders and shivered slightly, wishing his tunic had some sort of collar to turn up over his neck. Like Captain Janin was saying - it already feels more like autumn here.
They stopped at the Snowfield Stable for a quick lunch, although at this time of the year there wasn't any snow this far below the Hebra Mountains - just coarse tundra grasses and peat. The snow kept to the towering peaks some several thousands of feet higher and left the rest of the world well enough alone, for now, at least.
Link used the outdoor cooking pot and a few of the ingredients he'd brought along to roast mushroom skewers for himself and the Princess. Again he noticed that the stable folk didn't seem particularly awed to have the Princess in their midst. They treated her with distant, perhaps even grudging, respect; Link realized with a sinking heart that such treatment would probably hold uniform throughout the kingdom.
First the people at the quarry, now this. I'm starting to dread Tabantha Village - they were welcoming enough to me, but that was before the Master Sword. Now…
He wished he wouldn't have to find out. A betrayal of that sort, finding icy glares and sneers where once there had been warm and friendly faces, was bound to hurt.
Thick storm clouds were forming over the Hebra Mountains as the two travellers followed the trail higher into the jagged mountains. In sharp contrast to the lush colors of the Rowan Plain that morning, the Tabantha frontier seemed like a land of shadows as it merged with the foothills of the distant peaks. The trail wove among black stone crags and jagged little ridges decorated with pale lichen and a few small mushrooms. The regal firs seemed sterner, their needles a dark, almost bluish, shade of green, and their trunks more gray than brown. The wind whistled coldly over the trail, ruffling the stiff, rugged, blades of alpine grass defiantly sticking out from the rocky soil.
When they reached the highest point of the trail, the clouds above began to pelt them with frigid drops of rain. Link raised his hood with a slight shiver, grateful for the feeble, temporary warmth it offered. The Princess hesitated to do the same, turning her face skyward to the bleakly colored sky, letting the mountain-cold water drip down her cheeks and into her hair. Worried, Link was about to say something when at last she pulled her own hood snuggly over her head.
The storm was not as heavy as the one the day before; they made it to Tabantha Village chilled but not drenched. Link had been there before, when he was much younger, as a part of his training. In Captain Janin's eyes, it was the perfect place to learn and practice mountaineering, winter tracking, and outdoor survival under extreme conditions. As members of the Royal Guard, they were expected to be prepared for anything and everything, especially considering the far-reaching journeys the rulers of Hyrule often undertook. Though Link had not been a member of the guard at that point, it didn't stop Janin from training him as if he was.
Though his memories of those bone-numbing nights on the wind-whipped mountainside were less than pleasant, he remembered the village itself with fondness. He had expected the people to be cold and hard like the weather they endured, but he found that exactly the opposite was true. They were as welcoming as the cozy fires they huddled around come wintertime.
"Princess of Hyrule, welcome, welcome!" crowed a tall, stout man in the middle years of his life, hints of gray streaking his thick auburn hair at his temples. He stood leaning casually against the little fence around the village, but he bowed deeply as the travellers neared. "Welcome! It's great to see you!" He smiled warmly, beckoning them through the gate.
"I thank you for your hospitality," the Princess said, sliding down from her horse and nodding politely at the man. Farglus was his name, Link remembered; he was the village's magistrate.
"It's our pleasure!" Farglus beamed, bowing again. "Come, come!" He turned and jogged ahead of them, waving his hands above his head to catch the attention of the few people out in the streets. "The saviors of Hyrule have arrived!"
Link couldn't help but recoil at his word choice. Well… this is certainly an interesting change.
At Farglus's words people hurried out of their homes or barns, their expressions ranging from excited to confused to shy to awed. And at Farglus's urging they began to cheer, splitting the air with applause, delightedly sounding out their awe and support. Link could see the Princess' shoulders stiffen slightly ahead of him, but she waved politely as Farglus led them through the village, and he could guess that she was probably smiling, too. Whether or not it was a sincere smile, he had no idea.
"Link!"
He gave a start at the sound of his name, whirling around to see an older woman pushing through the crowd towards him, with a little girl trailing behind. His eyes widened.
"I just - I wanted to thank you again," she beamed. "Look! Look how Marin's grown, and it's all thanks to you!"
Link's cheeks burned self-consciously as he regarded the little red-headed girl peering up at him shyly. All at once he felt old; the last time he'd seen her she had been only half as tall. He couldn't help but smile at her, and offer a little wave.
"I owe you everything," the girl's mother told him gravely, her smile shrinking just a bit. "I've heard people say otherwise, but - but I just know that we'll all be safe because of you, that you'll protect us just as you protected my Marin."
His throat tightened. He forced himself not to say anything, but he hoped that his gratitude showed clear enough on his face, in his eyes. Thank you.
They passed through the southern gates and left the gathering behind, heading up a small trail branching off from the main road, leading upwards to a humble cottage nonetheless larger than the other dwellings comprising the little village. Warm golden light gleamed out from the windows, and a small lantern hung from the front porch; smoke curled upwards into the darkening sky from the brick chimney. Off to one side there was a simple barn within a small paddock; Farglus gestured towards it. "I'm afraid I don't have any servants or anything to tend to the horses…"
"It's no trouble; we can do it," the Princess assured him warmly. Link fought back another smile; she sounded so much more energetic than she had the night before. "Truly, Honorable Farglus, I am touched by this welcome into your town."
"Please, it's just Farglus, Your Highness," he chuckled. "I'll send m'boy down to help out while I get things situated inside. We're delighted to have you here!"
This time Link actually saw the Princess smile, as he had walked Choice right up next to the Princess' stallion, standing almost between her and the magistrate. His heart did a little leap into his throat; the sky was thick with clouds but for that moment it seemed that the warmest sun was shining down on them. A bead of sweat broke out on his brow and he quickly looked away, his heart hammering as if he'd run a mile.
Golden Goddesses above, he thought dazedly. His mouth felt uncomfortably dry as he worked open the paddock gate, holding it open as Choice obediently walked inside. The Princess followed, tugging lightly and then a little harder at her horse's reins when he didn't budge. Link bit his lip for a moment as she struggled; then he whistled through his teeth and the obstinate horse raised his head, ears twitching in his direction. Link whistled again, and he trotted grudgingly through the gate to join Choice.
The Princess gave him a frustrated look, and he felt something inside of him shrink. Sorry. He remembered Urbosa's words that he reminded her of her failures, and he winced.
I should just teach her to whistle like that. Every horse raised at the Castle is trained to follow the sound. It might help her.
...If, of course, the King doesn't first have me flogged for speaking with her. He grimaced, remembering his role as a shadow, silent, stoic, dependable. I need to focus less on her, more on our surroundings. An attack won't ever be coming from her.
With the horses carefully groomed and rubbed down after their walk in the rain, and left with plenty of food in the barn, Link followed the Princess into Farguls's comfortably warm cottage, led by the magistrate's mousy-haired son. The boy had yet to speak a single word, opting instead to stare at them both with wide, awestruck eyes, even as he beckoned them into the cottage's cozy little dining room. Link tried to remember if he'd met the boy on his last visit to the village all those years ago.
"Murtha and Gwyn've been working on this all day," Farglus grinned, pulling out a chair for the Princess and sitting down at the table himself. "S'been a form of torture, smelling all that without getting a taste… Go on, Link, won't you sit down?"
Link hesitated. He was never supposed to eat with the Princess; it was his job to be on guard, always, and eat only when necessary. He'd had only the midday meal for the past two days.
But evidently Farglus was unaware of such intricacies.
Swallowing his nerves away, Link took a seat next to the Princess, pretending to ignore the way her shoulders stiffened with his presence. Farglus's son, Thrangus, sat down very slowly beside his father, staring wide-eyed at the Master Sword at Link's shoulder.
Two women with long, light-brown hair, one around Farglus's age and the other far younger, walked out of the kitchen bearing steaming platters full of steaming food - roasted Cuccoo, steamed vegetables, warm buttered biscuits, rich brown rice… Link's mouth began to water without his even realizing it, and his stomach loudly demanded food. His face burned with embarrassment, and he glanced furtively around. No one was looking his way (except for Thrangus, still transfixed by the Master Sword), so he concluded with relief that no one had heard.
For the first few minutes of the meal, everyone was awkwardly silent. Farglus's family didn't seem to know what to say, and the Princess clearly felt uncomfortable with their awe.
Then with a child's lack of inhibition, Thrangus at last tore his gaze from the Master Sword and addressed the Princess. "Your horse is mean," he noted with all seriousness. "What's his name?"
The Princess looked surprised. "Erm… He's called Dinraal."
"Like the dragon?" Thrangus shook his head. "He's too grumpy for a name like that! You should call him… you should call him Pesky! Or Donkey because he's so stubborn! There's another name for donkey that I think would fit him even better, but I'm not allowed to say it - Dad would wash out my mouth with saddle soap!"
Farglus looked stunned, and his wife had gone pale. Link clenched his teeth together to keep himself from laughing out loud, and the Princess seemed to be holding back a delighted grin. "My father would probably do the same if I said that word," she admitted with a wide smile. "You're right - it's a shame to give such a noble name to such an ornery animal."
And just like that, the uncomfortable spell of silence was broken. Conversation broke out across the table, tense expressions replaced by relaxed smiles all around. Link listened distantly, trying to focus more on what he could see and hear of the outside, but he didn't fail to notice the tension fade from the Princess' shoulders.
A painful thought occurred to him as she laughed and talked with the magistrate's little family. This is what meals must be like every evening around here. Everyone gathering together, eating and talking, happy and at ease…
This is what it would mean to have a family.
He had stopped chewing his current bite of Cucco meat. It wasn't just family, he realized. Groups of friends in the Royal Guard would often sit together and share a meal in companionable conversation, sharing tales and laughs over a roast. Of course, perhaps they were more like a family than he realized - often they called one another 'brother' regardless of their heritage.
Where did I go wrong? he asked himself, not for the first time. I must've done something. There must be a reason I can't… can't seem to bond with anyone. What happened? Why?
He remembered Captain Janin telling him that people didn't like what they feared. And they fear me. Most people fear me. Because of what I can do, even though I'm young.
He felt a surge of bitterness towards the Captain. He… seems to care for me. Perhaps as a father might. But… maybe all he cares about is that I turn out to be a good weapon.
The thought sickened him, and he quickly pushed it away. No. He's raised me. He's a soldier; of course he would raise another soldier. He… he does care… right?
"This village owes quite a bit to young Link here," Farglus's wife was saying. Link's eyes snapped to her face in surprise. "We're a close-knit little town here, and peaceful, for the most part. Few years ago we were beset by a gang of moblins. Fortunately there were a few knights in the area, training their squires; they gave those beasts a most stern beating. Surprised us all to see such a young boy taking down just as many as the seasoned knights!" She chuckled lightly, shaking her head with bemusement.
Farglus nodded. "But that wasn't all; Arin's daughter Marin got lost in the confusion. None of us knew where she'd gone, or when, but Link tracked her down in a matter of minutes and brought her back safe'n sound from the mountains. The other knights didn't think it worth their time. Hopeless, they said, what with the snowstorm coming in. But that didn't mean a thing to our Link here!" He chuckled. "So we figure if anyone could've drawn the Master Sword, thank the Goddesses it was him."
"Interesting," the Princess responded, but for the first time that evening her smile looked forced.
Link swallowed his mouthful of biscuit with difficulty, his cheeks aflame with self-consciousness. Farglus, of all the topics to discuss with the Princess, I'm not a good one. It was flattering and a little uncomfortable to know that here, at least, there were people that supported him, but he felt that they must not understand just how threatening the Calamity was. If they did, they'd understand, as everyone else did, that his drawing it was a curse, not a blessing.
The conversation died down after that, and it wasn't long before Murtha and Gwyn (he still didn't know which name belonged to which woman) began gathering up their dishes, and Farglus led the Princess upstairs, to the cottage's cozy little guest room. A vase of golden wildflowers stood on a doily adorning the nightstand; a thick patchwork quilt rested on the bed above a large knitted blanket whose edges just barely poked out beneath the quilt. There was also a colorful crocheted oval rug lying on the polished wooden floorboards.
"Murtha made those," Farglus explained with an adoring smile. "Wonderful woman… There're more blankets in the closet, if you get cold."
"Thank you," the Princess smiled, sitting down on the bed. "Erm… Good night," she offered. "Thank you, again, for… everything."
Farglus bowed deeply. "An honor and a pleasure, Princess." He straightened, passing Link on the way out. "Would you like me to bring up a chair, or…"
Surprised, Link shook his head with a small smile. "I'm alright, thanks." He shut his mouth quickly, hoping that those three words wouldn't be against the King's orders.
After examining the window and shutting the door behind him to leave the Princess her privacy, he leaned back against the wall, stifling a yawn. I hope I'll get a chance to sleep soon...
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With the sun's return, the Princess joined Farglus and his family for breakfast while Link readied the horses. Dinraal, he realized, wasn't exactly mean as Thrangus had first said. He was just stubborn, and didn't much care for the Princess - because she didn't care much for him. It was a doomed relationship from the start, he thought with a rueful smile.
His smile faded. He'd encountered stubborn horses before, and knew how to earn their trust. If the King would just let me -
The thought died before it had even finished. Scowling inwardly, frustrated, he reminded himself of his purpose. An elite guard, a shield, able to perceive threats and circumvent them. Protect the Princess - that's your job. Nothing more!
This day's journey would take them to Rito Village. It was the shortest distance they would have to cover; Link estimated they would arrive around noon. After keeping the horses at a steady trot over the past two days, the Princess decided - displaying an uncanny good mood that wasn't dimmed by Dinraal's ornery behavior - to travel most of the morning's journey at a casual walk.
They descended the mountain pass, cold black rock transitioning to pale yellow, with green lichen draped gracefully across precipices hanging over the road. The horses' hooves sent little cascades of pebbles down the trail at its steepest part, until stone was replaced by rich red dirt and fluffy grass practically glowing with summer vivacity.
Rito Village was visible from a long way off, the majestic pillar of stone rising proudly into the sky, with Divine Beast Vah Medoh dutifully perched at its peak. Although it wasn't quite as warm as Hyrule Field, the bone-piercing chill of the Tabantha winds had no place here. There was a definite welcoming warmth in the air around them.
They boarded the horses at the Rito Stable and proceeded on foot, leaving most of the travelling gear behind as well. At the first bridge, a party of Rito was waiting to greet them, consisting of their chief, Kogoli, and several warriors, and -
"Welcome to Rito Village, Your Highness," Revali drawled.
Updated 7/8
