Chapter 41: Breathe
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"Ah… you're awake."
Cozy. Soft. The gentle smell of spices - nutmeg, cloves, ginger…
Zelda opened her eyes. Wooden beams crossed above her head, similar to those in the castle. And similar to the castle, the walls she could see running up to the ceiling were built of smooth stone cast in orange light - firelight.
But the bed beneath her back was stiff, the walls bare. This is not my room.
Zelda sat up, wincing as black spots drizzled across her vision and her mind whirled for several moments.
"How are you feeling, Princess?"
Zelda gave a slight start, turning towards the voice; she had forgotten that she wasn't alone. An elderly woman dressed in simple brown robes, with her silver hair hanging slightly wavy down to her shoulders, sat on a stool beside the small fireplace built into the wall. She was smiling gently, crinkles forming at the corners of her dark brown eyes.
"...Alright, I suppose," Zelda answered thoughtfully, frowning as she considered. Her muscles ached, especially those in her legs when she curled them closer to herself under the sheets, but other than that she felt well-rested and cozy, if a little groggy still. More concerning to her than her physical state was the fact that she was waking up in an unfamiliar room. "Where… where am I?"
The old woman nodded knowingly. "You were quite out of it when you arrived… This is the Sage Temple, Princess. It's a little late in the afternoon; you've been asleep all this time."
Zelda blinked rapidly, her brows pinching together in consternation as she examined the room more closely. There were no windows, and the fire was the only source of light, so of course she had no way of telling for herself what time of day it was. Afternoon? Really?
Her stomach growled as if realizing the meals it had missed, and her cheeks heated up in embarrassment as she covered it with a hand. Only then did she notice that her fingers were bandaged, and her feet felt as if they had been bandaged as well. I'm hungry and thirsty and apparently injured. Why am I here? What happened?
The elderly woman was studying her intently, but with genuine concern. "Are… are you quite sure you're alright? We don't know exactly what happened, but… from the scale of that young man's injuries, we don't believe it was anything pleasant. And you yourself have mild frostbite - just a few blisters, nothing too serious…"
Young man? Injuries? Zelda squinted absently at the wall, slowly massaging the side of her head with a thumb. What's the last thing I remember? What happened yesterday?
Link had been punished – she certainly recalled that much, but her heart felt cold at the thought. She had stayed with him for much of the day as snow piled up outside, and then Urbosa and Purah dragged her away to the library. After a silent, miserable supper with her father, she retired to her room early and fell asleep.
But that wasn't all, was it? How did I end up here?
Something awful had happened, she realized. Something that had shaken her so badly that her mind now refused to accept that it had happened. Something that had caused her, in all likelihood, to enter a state of shock.
"What young man are you referring to?" Zelda asked quietly, lifting her gaze to the old woman watching her sadly.
"Well, I've never seen him in person, but… we believe him to be your knight," she answered tentatively. "Since he bears the Master Sword. Oddly enough we couldn't lift it at all; we had to set him on the ground and then remove his baldric to get that blade on the ground so that he wouldn't be lying on it on his mattress. I can't quite recall his name…"
A cold finger of dread curled around Zelda's heart and squeezed. "Please - take me to him," she said, her voice shaking slightly.
"I don't believe you have the strength for that, Your Highness," the woman protested gently. "You -"
"I have to see him," Zelda interrupted desperately. "He - you've no idea what he… I - I just have to see him, please!"
The woman pursed her lips, unconvinced. "Rest a while longer, Princess. I'll brew you some tea, and I believe there's a bit of warm stew left over from the midday meal - I'll bring you a bowl right away. Once you've got all that in your belly, we'll see about letting you up." She pushed herself to her feet with a hand on the wall for support, her joints emitting pops and groans, and shuffled slowly to the plain door of pine opposite the hearth.
Zelda watched her leave with no small amount of resentment frothing in her stomach. But as the door closed with a soft click, leaving her alone with the dull roaring of the fire, she realized that perhaps it was for the best. Moving really does hurt. Even after getting something to eat, I might not have the strength to go and check on Link.
She leaned back against the headboard and gazed into the dancing flames sending flickering shadows across the room. Does Father know where I am? she wondered, giving a start. The thought prompted a flash of memory.
Swirling snow, howling wind, the gentle rocking of a boat over water, fear…
She clung to the fragment, trying to glean more from it, but it felt to her like trying to catch a wisp of cloud.
Frustrated, she turned her attention back to her bandaged hands. Frostbite, eh? But she said it was only a mild case. She could confirm the woman's words for herself; a few fingers felt sore, and burned when she pressed at them, suggesting that they were blistered, but she could detect no other damage. Frostbite implies prolonged exposure to the cold. I was out in the storm last night, for some reason. Why? What, in Nayru's name, happened to me?
Link would have answers. He always did. He would know what had happened, he would know how to comfort her about this frustrating gaping hole in her memories -
He was lying in the snow, blood on his shirt, blood staining the snow -
- but he was injured, according to that old woman. And badly. Worry pressed at her lungs and she gripped her fingers together despite the slight pain. It can't be as bad as it was after the ambush on Death Mountain, can it? Perhaps this woman is unaccustomed to seeing injuries, and so whatever happened to him seemed extreme to her. Perhaps Link will be up to see me any moment now.
Yet she could not dismiss the cold sense of foreboding that accompanied the image, imagined or not, of his prone, bloodied form in the snow.
The woman returned not much later, holding a bowl of soup in both hands. "Here you are, Princess," she said with a warm smile. "Do be careful - it isn't particularly hot, but it might hurt your hands just a bit."
"Has Link woken up yet?" Zelda asked as she gingerly took the bowl, holding it more with her palms than her fingers.
"Ah, yes, Link - that's his name." The woman hesitated, a shadow darkening her expression. "I… I'm afraid not. Not yet," she added hastily at Zelda's crestfallen look. "Perhaps soon, of course…"
But her tone of voice was decidedly less convincing than Zelda had hoped for. She lifted the bowl of soup to her lips and took a large swallow, relaxing as the thick, warm liquid trickled down her throat and into her stomach, spreading warmth through her body from the inside out.
The woman left again, presumably to continue brewing the tea she had mentioned, and Zelda steadily drained the bowl's contents. Although rather bland compared to the fare she was accustomed to at the castle, she couldn't complain. She hadn't felt all that bad when she woke up, but she felt even better with her stomach full of a hearty meal. The bowl was empty and she had even licked it clean by the time the elderly woman tending to her returned with a steaming clay mug.
"Ginger and sage," she said with a warm smile. "My favorite after being out in the cold. There's plenty of extras, of course; I'll keep it warm for when… when your knight wakes up."
Again that slight shadow in the woman's eyes. Zelda could tell that she was only trying to comfort her, and did not truly believe that Link would wake up. The soup in her stomach was abruptly beginning to make her feel sick.
"Thank you," she said hesitantly, exchanging the empty bowl for the mug. It was uncomfortably warm on the outside, warmer than the soup, and caused a slight twinge of pain in her hands. Nonetheless it smelled cozy and delicious.
The old woman patted her shoulder gently, as a grandmother might, and turned once more for the door. "I'll be back in just a bit," she promised, letting the door fall shut behind her.
Zelda sipped slowly at the tea, finding it harder to enjoy than the stew. Link must really be faring poorly, she thought anxiously. Perhaps I didn't imagine seeing him in the snow like that. And if that's true…
She shuddered, and the tea in the mug sloshed around. Goddesses, bless him, she prayed fervently, blinking against the burn of tears in her eyes.
But it was another piece of the puzzle. She had been out in the snow last night. On a boat. Afraid. And Link had gotten hurt.
I certainly wouldn't have gone out on my own. It was such a dreadful storm… So it must have been because of someone else that I was out there.
Who would be that stupid? Who would take the Princess of the realm out into such a terrible blizzard in the middle of the night?
Not Link, that's for certain. But then how did he end up out there with me? He wasn't going as my guard, was he? No - he was meant to be resting yesterday; there were other men assigned as my guards…
And yet here we are.
She scowled at her tea. None of it made sense!
She took a long drink and studied the dancing flames. Someone hurt Link, she thought. Which means he must have been in a fight.
She tilted her head back and examined what she knew. She had been out on a boat, afraid. Link had fought and was injured. Who was he fighting? And why was I on the boat? Was he with me on the boat?
No - she was quite certain he hadn't been there with her. She wouldn't have felt so frightened if he was there by her side.
But someone must have been on the boat, steering it. I couldn't do that on my own.
And whoever that someone was, they were an enemy. That's why I felt afraid.
So an enemy had… had taken her? In the middle of the night? Who would do something like that?
The answer dropped into her mind with the weight of a cold stone falling to the bottom of an icy pool.
The Yiga.
As if a switch had been flipped in her mind, more flashes of memory imprinted with searing terror spasmed through her mind. The kidnapping, her flight over the ice, Link's miraculous arrival, his battle with the Yiga, and then… and then…
She swallowed the last mouthful of tea, frowning deeply. Something awful had happened. Worse than everything else combined.
Her shoulders lurched with the memory's return. Choice!
Tears pricked her eyes and this time she didn't try and prevent them. Link's beloved mare, drowned in the river. The only sort of family he had, gone.
And then Link brought me here. And then he fainted?
That wasn't the worst of it. She looked down to her nightgown, noticing dark brown splotches she somehow hadn't been conscious of before, and a wave of nausea lurched through her gut.
That's his blood.
His blood, and that Yiga man's blood.
She wished she hadn't remembered that bit. The terrible motionless weight pinning her down on the ice after Link killed him... the blood spreading across the ice…
She felt filthy, tainted, impure. She squirmed in discomfort, wishing that she could cast away her bloodied gown and throw it into the fire to be destroyed. The bloodstains seemed almost to burn where they pressed against her skin, and she shivered, pressing back against the headboard as if she could shrink away from the contact.
The door creaked open and she jumped, her heart leaping to her throat. She relaxed as soon as she saw the familiar gray-haired head of the old woman.
"If you're set on seeing your knight, then you at least need to change into something decent," the woman said matter-of-factly, hobbling inside with a bundle of cloth folded in her arms. At Zelda's bedside, she held it up and shook it out, revealing a modest brown dress of thick wool with fresh undergarments. "I'll be right outside while you change, Princess. If you can get into this alright, then… well, I suppose you're well enough to pay him a visit."
"Thank you," Zelda murmured, taking the dress and holding it close. Never had she been more grateful to receive a change of clothes than just now - she wasn't particularly fond of complicated ballgowns that made her feel like a peacock, anyway.
The old woman shuffled once more towards the door, but she paused before leaving. "Don't you worry yourself, Your Highness. We've sent word to your father; he's sending a sleigh for you just as soon as he can. You'll be back home in no time."
"Link too?" she asked hopefully, relieved.
"I… I'm afraid not. He… he can't be moved at the moment."
Her relief faltered just as quickly as it had flared. It's that bad?
She wasted no time in ridding herself of her ruined nightgown and pulling on the brown dress. The wool was itchy, but she couldn't care less. Sliding her feet into matching thick stockings, she slid out of bed and wobbled for a moment, grimacing at the burn in her legs. It's because of all the running I did, she realized, taking careful steps towards the door and twisting the simple iron knob, pulling it open.
The old woman looked up with another smile as she stepped out into the short, candlelit hall. Her crinkled brown eyes, however, betrayed sadness and concern. "I'm certainly relieved to see you standing, Princess. Very well, I'll take you to your knight. Right this way."
Fear squeezed tighter at Zelda's heart as, matching the woman's slow, shuffling gait, she followed her down the passage and around a corner, to a door identical to her own. Her pulse came faster, blood pounding in nervous fervor through her veins, and the woman opened the door and stepped aside to let her pass.
Zelda walked into the room hardly daring to breathe, fearing to look towards the bed. When she did, she felt her insides seize up with worry.
Link was lying unconscious, completely still, beads of sweat glistening on his white face in the light from the roaring fire. His nose and ears shone a bright red and his lips a strange sort of blue in stark contrast to the pallor of his cheeks. As Zelda crept slowly closer, he drew in a rattling breath and coughed, his eyelids flickering feverishly.
Knowing that there had to be more damage, remembering the blood, she raised a hand to the thick pile of blankets stacked on top of him, but the old woman started forward in alarm. "Princess, no - don't do that. He… it… well, he's not wearing a stitch of clothing, not to mention those blankets need to stay right where they are to keep him warm."
Zelda's cheeks burned and she snatched her hand away in embarrassment. "But I… I need to see what's happened to him," she explained timidly. "In my memory, there… there was quite a bit of… of blood. I… I want to see how bad it really is."
The old woman twisted her fingers together, her brow creased, and she shook her head slowly. "It's just… well, I suppose… just be careful," she finally relented, pressing her lips together in a thin line.
Zelda nodded and carefully pulled the blankets back from Link's shoulders and torso, baring his chest and arms. Bandages stained with dried blood wrapped across his right shoulder and forearm; there were more across his breast and one particularly thick bandage around his abdomen, with bloodstains on his left side indicating a more severe wound there. His hands were heavily wrapped in bandages as well, down to each individual finger.
Zelda glanced down at her own bandaged hands, wrapped but not as carefully as his. "Are his… are his hands alright?"
The woman nodded gravely, hurrying forward to pull the blankets back up to Link's shoulders. "He has frostbite rather more severe than yours. He's lucky - I don't believe we will need to amputate anything, but… we shall see."
Link coughed throatily again, a faint groan escaping his lips.
"He's… he's ill, too, isn't he?" Zelda asked worriedly. She pressed shaking fingers to her forehead, finding it far hotter than would be healthy.
"One of his wounds…" The woman shook her head sadly. "We fear it may have been poisoned. It was nearly impossible to stop the bleeding, and it has rapidly become infected, despite our efforts to clean it. It is the deepest of his injuries - the one in his side. He's frightfully weak, and it was quite the battle getting his temperature up after you arrived here - in all honesty, the cold may have saved his life. It slowed his blood, kept him from bleeding out before you could get here to safety. But he was nonetheless frozen nearly to death."
Zelda bit her lip, nodding slowly. "And… that's why he can't come back to the castle with me. The cold… would be too much for him."
The old woman dipped her head in solemn acquiescence. "Exactly."
"I'd like to stay here for now, if that's alright," Zelda murmured, noticing a stool near the fire similar to the one in her own room. "He's more than just my knight - he's a dear friend." More than that, even.
The woman squinted at her as if reading her last thought. "I see. I'll leave the door open, shall I? And… and I'm certain our healers will be in soon to tend to his wounds." The underlying message in her words was clear from the suspicion in her voice: No troublemaking.
She waddled out into the hall as Zelda pulled the stool closer to Link's bed, glancing briefly at the Master Sword lying on the ground, and sat down, lightly reaching out to cup his cheek in her hand. So much had happened to him - too much. His brutal, undeserved punishment, the loss of Choice, now these additional wounds, and then eventually the duel with Captain Janin that would decide his fate…
Father will postpone it, she thought angrily, lightly brushing Link's tawny hair out of his eyes. He wouldn't cancel it entirely.
Link's eyelids fluttered restlessly and she half-hoped he was stirring, but he remained still and unconscious in his bed. Zelda pressed her lips tightly together to keep them from trembling as fresh tears prickled in her eyes. She pressed a gentle kiss to his brow and hovered over him for a moment longer, wishing she could erase the strain in his face.
"Hold strong, Link," she whispered.
Updated 7/8
