Chapter 17: Clash of Wills
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Hello everyone! I'm back (sort of)! Lots of life has happened; I got married, moved a couple times, dealt with the most difficult semester of college yet, and endured a lot of difficult family issues. I've had a lot of hardships and a lot of adventures, and now many parts of RBU are now written from experience. Especially the archery scenes.
I've now finished a project that I started back in December – reworking RBU and paying more attention to overall writing and story quality as well as realism, and my wonderful husband has been my peer reviewer and consultant. Now I'm going to start posting the freshly polished chapters. Hopefully all updated chapters will be finished by the end of the day.
The new RBU is mostly the same, but there are some major changes, especially in Zelda's character and in later chapters. There are also additional scenes every now and then to improve the overall story development. IMPORTANT: This chapter is one of those instances! If you have the story followed, you probably got an email about a new chapter - THIS chapter. I added so much content that it only made sense as a chapter on its own, instead of a continuation of the previous chapter. So, to keep from getting confused when eventually I start posting new chapters again, I highly recommend re-reading the story!
I know it's been a long time, but I want to throw out a special thank you for those of you that have been sending encouraging notes, reaching out to me privately, and not giving up on me or the story. For your privacy, I won't make a callout here, but you know who you are. Please know that your faith, encouragement, and friendship has meant the world to me.
I hope you all enjoy the new RBU!
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They stopped that evening in a small forest across the road from Whistling Hill, mostly beneath one massive tree that had probably stood for a century or more. A few of the Sheikah began dragging twigs and stones together to build a cooking fire, and Link removed the bags of supplies from Choice's back, handing them off to the other travellers. Freed from her burdens, he tied the end of her lead rope around the low-hanging branch of a nearby apple tree standing in a patch of grass, giving her plenty of space to roam and graze throughout the night.
He could see the Princess struggling to do the same with Dinraal. She'd gotten his saddle off but seemed hesitant to remove his bridle, holding his reins firmly by his mouth as if afraid he'd try to run off. Link felt a tug inside of his chest - he knew he shouldn't, but his feet carried him over to her anyway, until he found himself barely a sword's length behind her. His heart hammered, and he breathed in a slow, steady breath, preparing himself.
"Let me," he offered, committing himself and closing that last short distance between them, taking hold of Dinraal's bridle. His heart raced faster; this close he could smell her, and she smelled like… like some sort of flower…
She looked at him, her gaze unreadable, before giving a curt nod and shoving Dinraal's halter and tether into his arms and walking away, her head bowed. Link felt a pang of regret stab his soul. Stupid idea, he scolded himself, his insides twisting with shame. Idiot! You've just made her feel worse about herself!
He pressed his lips together in a thin line, his eyes narrowed, as he turned back to Dinraal. The regal white horse was pretending not to notice him, but he didn't resist as Link led him up the gentle slope to Choice's apple tree.
"Pretty handsome, eh?" he said, speaking - out of habit - to the horse as he carefully unbuckled the bridle, keeping the reins around his neck. He'd been around horses long enough to know a well-bred animal when he saw one, and Dinraal was perhaps the finest he'd seen. "And you seem to know it, too…" He glanced quickly around, ensuring he was out of earshot. "Why don't you listen to your mistress, hmm? Why don't you listen to - to Z-Zelda?"
His cheeks flamed the instant he spoke her name, and he took another furtive glance at his surroundings. Dinraal was looking at him with amusement in his dark chocolate eyes.
Link gulped. "You should listen to her," he murmured, looping the bridle around one arm and pulling the halter up over Dinraal's nose and ears. "She's smart - smarter than me, smarter than Choice…" No offense, Choice. "She'll lead you better than anyone else. So if that's what's going on in your head, you need to change your mind."
He looped Dinraal's lead rope next to Choice's on the apple tree's low-hanging branch and gave the white horse's shoulder a pat before moving to Choice and letting himself sag against her neck. "Maybe you could knock some sense into him," he sighed. After a moment's thought and a slight wince he added, "And maybe you could knock some sense into me, too."
A sudden panicked cry roused him from his moment of respite and he felt an instant surge of adrenaline spike his blood. Spinning towards the sound, he saw one of the Sheikah scientists dashing down the hill from where she had been keeping watch. "Monsters!" she panted, sprinting for the cooking fire. "Headed this way – must've seen the smoke!" She kicked dirt over the flames, scattering the small bits of firewood and ring of stones surrounding it. At once the rest of the camp jumped into action, dashing for the few tents already erected and pulling out stakes, shoving food back into its wrappings, piling gear onto their backs.
Link's heart stilled for a moment, torn – face the monsters before they reached camp, and hope nothing else took advantage of his absence and attacked the Princess, or stay with the Princess as the Sheikah prepared to flee, in which case the monsters would likely hunt them all night and anyone who fell behind would get caught?
Neither option was acceptable.
I've been away from the Princess' side too long already, he decided, hurrying down the hill as the Sheikah smothered their fire and continued bundling up the few supplies they had already unpacked, slinging them over their shoulders joining the archaeological tools, ancient tech, and journals they'd been carrying all day. The Princess was rolling up a bundle of food when Link tapped her shoulder.
"Well?" she exclaimed, glancing over her shoulder at him. "Go deal with it! Isn't that why you're here?"
Link hesitated before speaking, wary of the King's warnings. The realization that he didn't know how far off the monsters were – how much time remained before the attack - loosened his tongue. "Leaving you with the Sheikah would violate my orders. There isn't a single warrior among them – if something else attacked, I'd be too far away to help."
The Princess' eyes went round. "Surely you aren't considering taking me with you into those monsters!"
Link shook his head. "Stay with Choice. She can protect you better than the others -"
"You trust a horse over my good friends?" She backed away, the rest of the Sheikah beginning to run off down the trail around and behind her. "How dare -"
"If I did that and something else happened, they would die defending you!" Link pointed out, frustration rising in his soul. He grabbed her arm as she tried to run, tightening his grip as she attempted to yank herself away. "And then you'd all be dead! Is that what you want?"
He regretted the words the instant they left his mouth, realizing too late the double meaning. Her eyes watered with tears and her lip trembled, and in her gaze he could see death, fire, chaos – what she feared would come to pass if the Calamity arose before she awakened her powers.
She struggled more fervently against his grip, grabbing his arm with her free hand and trying fruitlessly to pry herself free. "Let go of me!" she hissed. "We have to go with them, then! I'm not - abandoning - my friends!" She accentuated each word with a desperate yank of her arm, and he almost lost hold of her wrist, worried that she would accidentally hurt herself trying to escape.
"They're abandoning us!" Link protested, moving his grip more securely to her upper arms. "If they stayed here, I could take care of it while you wait with Choice and no one would get hurt! As is they're just going to get themselves lost!"
"We're not incompetent!" Purah huffed, coming up from behind him. "We may not be fighters, but we can still –"
"Outrun a gang of – of moblins?" Link challenged, his heart hammering faster as his ears caught the sound of low, gurgling grunts drawing nearer, and upon the wind drifted a scent like rancid meat.
Purah's cheeks flushed. "Yeah," she said firmly. "I mean, they're not exactly built for speed, are they?"
"No, but their endurance – never mind; this is wasting time!" Link growled. "Princess, I need you to stay here. Follow me up the hill and then stay with Choice. This shouldn't take long, and then we can see about finding the others before they get caught in something else." He regarded her for a moment, meeting her gaze and doing his best to imitate the General's stern glare. But she glared right back, until Purah lightly prodded her shoulder and offered a rueful shrug. Only then did the Princess, eyes still vehemently narrowed, nod stiffly at him, and he let go of her arms. He lingered for a second longer, until he felt somewhat confident that she wouldn't run while Purah remained with her; then he turned and jogged back up the hill, his doubt relieved by the sound of the two women's footsteps swishing through the grass behind him.
At the hill's crest he saw the approaching monsters still some distance away, slowly but steadily tromping closer. He scanned them for bows and was relieved to find that the only weapons among the ten of them seemed to be their usual crude clubs, little more than broken logs or Hinox bones with the canines of unfortunate predators forcibly crammed into the end, points facing outwards. This should be easy enough, then. As long as I don't get hit. Moblins were about as dim-witted as they looked and their strategic capabilities were limited to 'Hit with big stick,' although Link had seen them pick up more sophisticated weapons from their fallen foes from time to time. Unfortunately, slow, lumbering, and stupid as they were, they were every bit as strong as they appeared, if not more so. It was the only characteristic that made them dangerous.
He lingered at the top of the hill, hoping not to put too much distance between himself and the Princess while he was fighting; as the moblins began climbing up towards him he slipped his knight's bow from the Master Sword's sheath – again bemoaning the absence of his hunting bow. Moblins towered over him, keeping their more vital organs well out of reach of his sword. If he needed to get in close, he would have to go for the tendons in their ankles to get them down to his level.
But if I don't have to get close at all…
He wouldn't have to worry about getting clubbed, or grabbed and thrown by their disproportionately long arms.
He nocked a fleshcutter from his hip quiver and watched the moblins advancing up the hill, trying to determine how far off they were, how fast they were moving. Visualizing where he would need to aim so that he didn't waste as much strength keeping his bow drawn while aiming.
Probably about sixty-five yards… sixty… and my best bet here is to go for the chest cavity.
He released the arrow and saw a spray of blood as it struck the closest moblin's – nose? It howled in agony, dropping its club and clawing at its face, and Link winced. The arrow had pierced the fleshy end of the moblin's nose and continued through between its lower jawbones to impale its chest, probably near the heart but not exactly on it. And all of the moblin's thrashing about and wailing would have only made the wound more painful.
Nonetheless its lung and possibly heart had been pierced, and it sank to its knees with its companions huddling over it in surprise and confusion as its struggles weakened. Link aimed again, and his arrow struck one of the moblins in the back, catching the life-giving organs of its chest cavity from behind. As the first moblin's life expired, the second didn't seem to realize it had been hit; it looked at the others, took a step, and then stopped with a look of utmost befuddlement on its face. Another step, and several huffing breaths. The other moblins gathered in close again, exchanging glances and throaty grunts, jabbing meaty fingers at their dead companion and then at their dying one, trying to puzzle out what was going on. Link's third arrow hit a moblin that was faced towards him but communicating with the moblin at its right.
At last the monsters – one of them, at least – seemed to realize what was going on. One of them roared loudly, gesturing excitedly at the fletchings emerging from its comrade's chest before pointing up the hill; it must have seen the arrow coming down and made the brilliant realization that someone had to have fired that arrow. Link felt that the wind of Farore must have taken his fourth arrow; he feared for a moment that he had aimed too high, but instead the arrow struck the base of the smarter moblin's skull and sent it stumbling to the ground, spasming for a moment before falling completely still.
Three of the monsters looked at each other in concern with wide eyes, as if reconsidering their decision to attack now that their numbers had been cut nearly in half. The remaining three moblins stomped their feet and roared in anger, now fully aware that they were being attacked, and looked wildly around for the culprit. Link fought the urge to roll his eyes – I'm wearing bright blue, for Din's sake! How stupid can they be?
His fifth arrow found the moblin in the middle, and the two others finally noticed where he was, pointing at him excitedly and shaking their clubs in the air as they continued up the hill towards him; the third moblin followed, joining in their adrenaline-fuelled rage, but with an arrow in its lungs it collapsed after a few steps and didn't move again.
Link felt his pulse spike as the two moblins neared, not at all wanting to fight them up close. He nocked another arrow and aimed carefully, but now that the moblins were closing distance so much faster it was harder to aim reliably; he tried to envision where their chests would be in the next moment and released –
The arrow punched through the moblin's abdomen, just beneath the sternum; the monster staggered backward from the force of the blow and Link pulled back his next arrow with sweaty fingers, taking only a moment to aim; this time his shot struck the moblin's heart as intended and it went down, grabbing at its chest in its last few seconds of life.
Link set his bow down and drew the Master Sword from its sheath. The last moblin, determined, closed the last few yards between them and swung its club violently over its head. Link sidestepped and darted forward as the club crashed down where he'd been standing; while the moblin raised its club for another attack Link dashed around behind it and slashed at the unprotected tendons at the base of its unprotected feet. With a growl the moblin attempted to turn around only to stumble and collapse to its knees, and Link thrust his blade through its heart.
That was enough for the three deliberating moblins hanging back to make up their minds. They turned on their heels and ran back the way they had come just as fast as their short legs could carry them. Link watched from the top of the hill, making sure they didn't seem to be changing their mind and coming back. He went still for a moment, listening, feeling… The forest was quiet, but nonthreatening. Somewhere in the deepening shadows an owl hooted. He could hear one of the horses cropping up mouthfuls of grass behind him.
There aren't any more threats here tonight.
He jogged down the hill to the moblins he'd slain and carefully gathered his arrows, fetching a pair of goosefeathers from a pouch sewn into the side of his quiver. Some heads had gone right through the moblin and he could carefully push and pull the arrows the rest of the way out, but for those that hadn't gone through, he slid the shafts of the goosefeathers down alongside the arrow until they slid onto the barbs on the head, enabling him to pull the whole thing out at once.
He wiped the blood on his hands in the grass and headed back up to where the Princess and Purah waited with the horses. The Princess wasn't looking at him, but Purah was studying the flattened grass and churned-up soil left by the moblin's club when it struck the ground. She glanced up when Link neared and winced.
"I… er, I get it now," she admitted with a shrug. "They, uh, shouldn't have run off. And… yeah." She scuffed at the ground with the toe of her boot. "I still think we could outrun them. That is, that we're capable of outrunning them. Not necessarily that it's a good idea to do so."
"No," Link agreed, pulling Choice and Dinraal's lead ropes loose from the tree they were bound to. "Princess, if you'd mount up –"
"I'm perfectly fine with walking," she interrupted crisply.
Link shifted his weight uncertainly from one foot to the other, gazing off down the hill. "I… I was just thinking that you'd probably want to find the others sooner rather than later. We'll be faster on horseback."
"It's getting dark, and you want to track them from higher up?" the Princess asked, an eyebrow raised. "Wouldn't that be more difficult?"
Link bit back an angry retort, feeling frustration tingling up his spine. "Would you rather stop for the night, then? And just hope that somehow we all end up at the Great Plateau?"
Purah frowned at him. "You're implying they all got lost!" she huffed. "Look, combat isn't our thing, I'll give you that, but at the very least we know how to read maps! We're not half as helpless as you seem to believe!"
Link thought about the guardian that had gone berserk, thanks to the Sheikah scientists poking and prodding at it with a spear, and forced himself not to reply.
A distant drum of hoofbeats rumbled through the forest as if in response and Link drew his sword, pushing past Purah to stand protectively in front of them. Choice raised her head, following his gaze with her ears trained attentively forward. In the grey and often deceptive wisps of evening light his heart jumped upon first seeing the mounted figures pounding down the trail towards them, mistaking them for lynels, but almost at once he realized that they were mounted knights in half plate armour. Upon seeing them at the top of the hill, they led their mounts off of the trail at a light trot and rode up to meet them.
"Evening, Princess!" the foremost called with a respectful dip of his head. "Glad to see you're safe!" He dismounted and bowed low. "Captain Vereth, at your service. Your travelling companions were distraught when they arrived realizing you weren't with them. They sent us to escort you safely back to the garrison."
Kolomo Garrison, Link remembered grumpily, disgruntled. Fantastic. Thought I'd be rid of any other knights out here. And now I look bad for doubting those scholars. This is just great.
It was such an annoying situation. He'd been on escort missions before, and in his experience nobles – and most city dwellers, in fact – were nearly entirely helpless in the wild. The Sheikah scientists, he now realized, would have to be different, considering that their tribe lived almost exlusively in the mountains of West Necluda. Solely by growing up in such an isolated area, they would have to be aware of at least some aspects of mountain survival. Even if they didn't seem to have clue about anything when it came to combat.
So… that was dumb of me.
Holding Dinraal and Choice's lead ropes together in one hand, he followed the Princess as she walked down to greet the knights. "That… is appreciated, but unnecessary," she said, her voice polite but strained. "I would have been fine on my own."
Captain Vereth glanced in Link's direction, an eyebrow raised and a lip curled. "Numbers do play a role in the outcome of a battle, my lady," he sighed. "There are those that doubt the, er, decision about your escort."
"One soldier has proven sufficient thus far," the Princess' voice turned cold, and Link nearly missed a step as his heart leapt. She's… defending me? "Perhaps my companions told you that the reason they fled was to escape an approaching band of monsters. My knight did just fine against them."
Link's heart raced. She's defending me. Why is she defending me? Goddesses above…
Vereth's laugh sounded forced. "Perhaps he got lucky, or it was a small force –"
"There were ten that I counted," the Princess stated flatly. "They were quite large as well. One blow would have been more than enough to kill a man."
"And what kind of monster was this?"
"I…" Much to Link's surprise, the Princess floundered, shaking her head slowly. "I'm… I'm not really familiar with monsters, but it looked quite dangerous –"
"They were moblins," Purah chimed helpfully, but the Princess shot her a stern glare. Vereth laughed again, condescending.
"Moblins, eh?" he chortled. "Well, by the Goddesses, I'd certainly hope the Chosen One wielding the Master Sword wouldn't struggle with a few moblins. Ha!" He shook his head. "I apologize, Princess. I'll draft a letter to the Royal Guard requesting more men assigned to your escort."
The Princess' hands balled into fists, and she was still for a moment before trudging after the captain once more. Link heard a whispered apology from Purah and felt his heart sinking down to his toes.
So that was her plan. She didn't really care about making me look better – she just wanted to keep Vereth from pushing for her to have more guards. One is bad enough, but she'd hate to have even more people following her around. Which is how she lived before I was appointed.
He could take consolation from the fact that at least he knew now that she preferred him over a group of guards. Or, rather, she prefers one guard over a group of guards. If she got the chance to have me replaced with someone else, I've no doubt she'll take it.
And that was discouraging. He bit back a sigh, kicking grumpily at a pebble on the road and sending it skittering forward past his charge between the boots of the knights in front of them as they headed towards the garrison.
It was equally frustrating to him that the Princess' efforts had been pointless. He'd felt so excited at the prospect of her coming around to him, and after so long without any other indication of friendship from anyone but Choice, the realization that it was just a ruse to trick Vereth burned. I've never heard of him, anyway; he must be pretty low-ranking. He couldn't be the commander of Kolomo. And I doubt he'll actually write a letter to Janin, or that Janin would even read what he has to say. And he and the King and the General already made up their mind that it's better for the Princess to have one guard instead of a whole troop, so that's not even something she needs to worry about.
He caught up to the pebble and kicked it again, a small cloud of dust rising from the toe of his boot and lazily hovering for a moment over the road before drifting away like a wisp of cloud.
I shouldn't have gotten my hopes up there. I had no evidence whatsoever to support any kind of change of heart from her. And even if I did, I shouldn't hope for that.
His heart ached a bit as his mind wandered into old paths, old snippets of dreams he'd thought already long gone. Dreams of companionship – of just one person, not a horse, that he could confide in.
No, he told himself firmly. No – I'm past all that. I don't need it – I'm doing fine without it. There's no need for these foolish, vain hopes and feelings. I have Choice – that's all I need.
But his heart clenched as he felt the weight of his orders crushing down upon his shoulders, remembering all the little signs of the painful reality that his loyal horse wasn't truly his.
And the black thought occurred to him once more that should he fail, he'd lose her altogether.
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Dawn arrived bleak and gray, with a sky blanketed in thick clouds. Rain seemed more than a possibility, but despite that and the uncomfortable arrival at the Kolomo Garrison the night before, the Princess looked more excited than he'd ever seen her as they headed out for the day. He couldn't remember her actively participating in the restoration of the ancient Sheikah tech since that day he'd saved her from the guardian.
Hopefully this'll go better than that did. I didn't bring a shield, and I'd rather not use a pot lid again and lose the use of my arm for a week.
He grimaced, remembering the splinters.
Horses could not ascend the ancient, partially-crumbling staircase leading up to the Great Plateau, so Choice and Dinraal were left in the care of the garrison's stable. Choice's burdens were distributed among the Sheikah scientists - with the exception of Purah - and Link, who found himself carrying the majority due to the fact that, in the Princess' words, he was a knight and thus obviously in better shape than the others.
It was true, but that didn't mean that carrying twice his weight in camping supplies and archaeological tools wasn't a struggle.
The company stopped for a brief lunch in Gatepost Town right at the base of the massive stairway leading to the Great Plateau's crown. Link felt painfully self-conscious maintaining his usual stance behind the Princess' chair with a pack almost as tall as he was clinging to his back; in the cozy bakery crowded with little tables and chairs, no one - not even a child - could make their way past him. Which, he supposed, wasn't exactly a bad thing considering his role as a protector, but he wasn't exactly living up to Captain Janin's expectations of invisibility.
The Princess had kept up a near-constant stream of conversation with Purah as the morning progressed, but when they started up the steps to the Great Plateau, she fell silent. The clouds were low today; the stairway seemed to lead straight up into the sky, vanishing halfway up in a bank of thick clouds. Link didn't let her get more than a few steps ahead of him as they entered the foggy mass, wary of an assassin's blade thrust through the gloom, but nothing happened, and they reached the top unscathed but slightly damp.
The Plateau was blanketed in a mass of thin mist clinging to the tangled branches of the trees scattered nearby and the Forest of Spirits a little more distant; it wrapped around mountain spires and concealing the highest from view. Even the Temple of Time's steeple was difficult to make out through the haze.
Link felt a chill snake down his spine at the sight of the ancient building, that had nothing to do with the brisk wind carving spiralling paths through the mist. He stared at it, his heart hammering; he didn't notice his feet dragging him towards it until Purah's voice jolted him from the trance that gripped him. "You're not going to make her pray today, are you?" she asked in a low, warning whisper, her fingers tight around his arm.
He looked down at her in surprise, the ice melting from his limbs as quickly as it had come. Wordlessly he shook his head and gently tugged out of her grip, jogging to catch up with the Princess.
She was staring at the Temple, too, a frown replacing the smile she'd worn all morning. Link felt his heart squeeze at the trace of guilt he found in her emerald gaze. Perhaps the King wasn't meaning to do her a kindness. With the Temple of Time - the birthplace of our kingdom, some say - so close to where the Sheikah are at work, perhaps he meant for her to feel ashamed of her scholarly pursuits.
Enough so to voluntarily leave them behind, perhaps?
His gut twisted, and he remembered the King warning him not to encourage the Princess' passions.
I'll just… try to arrange her tent and stand watch so that her view of the Temple is blocked. That wouldn't hurt, would it?
He tried to swallow down the guilt swirling like bile in his stomach and quickly jogged after the Princess, following her and Purah towards a large gathering of sturdy canvas tents and even a few wooden buildings that had, judging by the color of the wood, only recently been erected. Smoke from cooking fires wafted up into the air, spreading the scents of warm stew, spiced meat, and fresh bread through the camp; in addition to the scientists in their traditional Sheikah attire there were children playing in the patches of grass between tents, along with a few women gathered around a large wooden tub of water chatting while scrubbing clothes clean. It was almost just like any other village in the kingdom.
"We've started calling it Time's Nook," Purah explained with a grin. "You know, since we're right under the Temple of Time and we're studying relics of the past. Other than the Royal Ancient Lab, this is our largest research community, and it's the only one actually housing families and everything. The Great Plateau is special - four standard shrines up here, along with this new one we've been looking at just up the hill – hopefully that medical facility – and records speak of something else buried here, too - it's an incredible hub of ancient activity!"
"Amazing," the Princess breathed, looking all around with a wide smile. A few people noticed her and waved; grinning, she waved back. "Four shrines, you say? Including this… this 'new' one?"
"Well, it'd be five, including that one," Purah smirked. She gestured to a small cabin that seemed positioned right in the center of the camp. Two banners hung down from the eaves, one on either side of the door; they were a deep, regal violet, emblazoned with the Hyrule crest in green, outlined with white, just above the crimson Sheikah eye. "This is our headquarters, although it's really more like a conference hall. This is where we organize and compile our notes and compare them with the ancient records to decipher the meaning of what we're finding and to eliminate any discrepancies in our own records."
Inside, the cabin's single room was lined with bookshelves on every wall, some mostly empty while others were stuffed with scrolls and notebooks; each shelf was labelled with a different rune that, Link guessed, must symbolize some part of the study going on here.
There were no windows, but a cluster of oil lamps and candles sat in the middle of a long table taking up most of the floorspace, and several lanterns hung from the ceiling, matching the pair that Link had noticed hanging by the front door. Papers containing sketches, diagrams, notes, and ancient-looking books filled with ancient Sheikah text were strewn across the table's surface; Link was confused to see a few maps of the human body detailed in one of the books.
"This is for you, Zelda," Purah said, snatching up a thick stack of neatly-handwritten notes and pressing it into the Princess' hands. "It's a summary of the work that's been done on the new shrine so far - what we've found, what we hope to find, what we think it was used for… Basically, it's a more detailed version of everything I've told you about this part of the project before. We figured we'd let you have today to rest, read our notes, get accommodated and everything, and then tomorrow you can jump right in!"
The Princess hugged the notes to herself as if afraid even the slightest breath of wind would tear them away. Her eyes were glistening even as the largest smile Link had ever seen from her stretched across her face. "Purah, this is… it's… I can't…"
Purah chuckled. "You don't have to say a word," she grinned. "Now, go on! Have a bite to eat, read our stuff, relax… King Rhoam didn't say when he wanted you to return, so we have as much time as you want!"
There were tears dripping down the Princess' cheeks now, and she wiped at them hurriedly. "Thank you," she breathed with a shaky laugh.
Purah's grin softened. "You deserve this - you deserve to be here," she said quietly. "Don't let anyone let you think otherwise."
\-==/\==-/
Upon leaving the cabin, the Princess made her way almost blindly to the northeastern corner of the camp, sitting down with her back against a small, square watchtower, the report settled against her knees. Her eyes practically glowed with excitement and a thirst for more information, and Link found himself staring at her for several moments a few feet away, entranced.
For the first time, he found himself looking at Zelda, not the Princess. Here she could be herself; here she could experience what it meant to live a more normal life - a freer life. Something tugged inside of his chest and he quickly looked away, his gaze falling instead to the bustling encampment so close by.
Normalcy and freedom. What would those mean to me? He tried to picture himself without a sword in hand but found that he couldn't imagine what landscape would surround him then. His heart ached a little, and he struggled to swallow past the knot in his throat.
I don't know anything else. I can see myself without a weapon, but I can't see what kind of life I would have without one.
He felt a surge of bitterness towards the sacred blade resting at his shoulder. As long as that sword saw him as its master, he knew that he had no choice but to follow the path of the warrior. The Goddesses don't choose back-ups. If I fail, no one else will take up my burden.
Teeth clenched in helpless frustration, he set down the bulging pack on his back and pulled out the supplies for the Princess' tent. He forced his thoughts away from his own burdens and turned them instead to his charge. I might not have the chance for a different life, but she does. And seeing that temple looming over her head won't do her any good.
As it turned out, perhaps unintentionally, the Princess herself had chosen the best place for her tent: right here, nestled between the rising ridge of the hill the Temple of Time perched upon and the stone watchtower she leaned against. Here, the slope of the hill hid the Temple from view. And when we walk up to the shrine, I could try walking between her and the Temple…
He winced a little at the thought, remembering Urbosa's words for the umpteenth time. But that would mean if she glanced towards the Temple, she'd see both that and me. Two things to remind her of what she sees as failure.
He frowned, shaking his head, and walked around the little corner of soft soil, plucking out rocks and twigs and scraping his boot across the dirt, trying his best to soften the ground. When he felt he had done all he could, he began assembling her tent, constructing the framework and binding the sturdy poles together with twine before draping canvas over it, driving stakes through the loops at the corners and into the ground, binding it from the inside to the poles. With the exterior complete, he spread out a second piece of canvas on the inside and bound it to the poles' bases, forming the tent's floor. Last to go in was the Princess' bedroll and her bags of personal belongings; he left the latter untouched but did his best to set up her bedroll, his heart feeling light with the hope that her first night in this place would be a comfortable one.
The Princess barely moved from her place beneath the watchtower, only shifting position or stretching occasionally to loosen her stiff limbs. Besides that, she spent the entire afternoon carefully poring over the notes the Sheikah had made for her.
When evening fell, the people of Time's Nook lit lanterns across the camp, and the Princess at last left the stack of notes in her tent and joined the other scientists and their families for a hearty meal, everyone gathered around a large bonfire in front of the central cabin, laughing, sharing stories, discussing the day's discoveries. Everywhere Link looked from his place in the shadows, there was happiness. The Princess was no exception, joining in with the others in every way. She feels more at home here than she ever did at the castle.
Do I feel at home at the castle?
A smile he hadn't even realized he was wearing faded from his lips as he gazed into the flames. No, he decided; home, for him, was the wilderness of Hyrule. That same treacherous land where dwelt the monsters that killed his parents was where he felt at his truest, where he felt free and - and as close to happiness as he could ever remember feeling.
When at last the fire began to die down and parents rushed their children off to bed, the Princess stood and turned to Link. "I think… I'd like to turn in now," she said softly, and Link's heart warmed with the lack of lingering unhappiness in her voice. But her eyes darted warily to the blackness of the shadows encroaching on the camp, specifically those leading towards her tent, and he wondered if she was a little afraid of the dark.
I'll keep you safe, Princess, he found himself thinking as he retrieved a lantern from inside the darkened central cabin, quickly lighting it and falling into step just behind his charge as they made their way towards her tent. He thought briefly of his nightmares, fighting monsters in oppressive darkness, and shivered. I'm not too fond of darkness, either.
And as she lay awake much later that night, betrayed by quiet sobs he could tell she was trying hard to suppress, he found himself frightened, but not terribly surprised, by a strong desire to barge into her tent and hold her in his arms until her tears subsided.
Not all threats are physical, his shadow had warned him once, and he found his heart aching as he sat in silence just beyond the tightly-fastened tent flaps, the Master Sword across his lap. If only the King would give me permission to protect her from those threats, too…
Wind danced with a faint moan over the Great Plateau, rattling the branches of the trees in the nearby Forest of Spirits. Somewhere a pack of wolves was howling, a quiet, beautiful sound, but no less chilling. The distant hooting of a great horned owl and the occasional ghostly shriek of a barn owl only added to the haunting ambience of the wild night. All else was silence; it was late enough now that crickets had ceased their song.
You're safe here, Princess, he thought, wishing he had the courage to speak the words out loud, to defy the King's orders and Captain Janin's expectations. These sounds might be frightening, but they speak of peace. When wolves take the time to sing, you'll know that no monsters lurk nearby. And even if there were, I'd never let them get to you.
You are too precious to lose…
He cut off that line of thought quickly, his heart hammering and his mouth dry. He shifted slightly, and when he stilled once more his mind was empty, his senses focused no longer on the muffled cries behind him but on the whispers of the wilderness, searching, ever vigilant, for the rustle of threatening footsteps over stone and soil.
Updated 7/8
