Chapter 65: Faron Woods
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It was a peaceful night, for which Link was exceedingly grateful. It was almost as if the world was trying to make up for the madness of the past several days - instead of driving rain and assassins, the sky was clear, offering a stunning view of the stars and a blissful near-silence, broken only by the occasional whispers of wind or the hoot of an owl, and the usual sounds of the two horses calmly alternating between grazing and sleeping. Link felt the soothing atmosphere ease away knots of tension in his shoulders and return clarity to his mind.
A perfect time to plan, and an opportunity he didn't want to waste.
An experience, he decided, sitting with his arm lazily hooked around one knee drawn halfway to his chest, leaning against the stone outcropping protruding from the ground. It'll mean more to her than any physical gift. So what could the two of us possibly do together that she'd enjoy? That wouldn't be too strenuous after days on the road?
He chewed his lip thoughtfully, scanning back through his memories. I used to take Choice for short rides in the evening whenever I got the chance. She's made such great progress with Dinraal - it might be a good idea to remind her of that on her birthday.
So if the two of them went for a brief ride… but where? There weren't many places relatively close to the castle that, at least in his opinion, made for particularly beautiful scenery. Except the Sacred Grounds, but that's the last place I'd want to take her.
His heart felt heavy, and he chewed his lip in contemplation, his brows drawn together. I'm out of my league, he thought glumly. Coming up with a nice romantic thing to do with someone I love… I have no idea where to go with that.
He nudged the dying coals of the fire and pulled his cloak tighter around himself to ward off the slight chill. Well… I suppose that's not true. I have one idea - going for a ride somewhere. But that's just it - where?
Turning his gaze skyward, he tried to remember all the conversations he'd ever overheard from other knights speaking about their love lives. Although he didn't particularly like the idea of using them for inspiration, he also wanted to make sure he chose a good place. Somewhere that people actually enjoyed. Somewhere that Zelda might find beautiful.
Sir Hanvorien went on his honeymoon in Lurelin Village, he remembered. Garmish mentioned the Lover's Pond in that area, too… wanted to find his true love there. Serenne Stable was a pretty little area; he'd been posted there once or twice. But Zelda's already been there - we went together, the first journey we took together. He chewed his lip thoughtfully, reaching into the depths of his memory. I thought Sir Ardin proposed to his wife on Satori Mountain. Some sort of little pond at the top…
He scowled, absently grabbing a handful of pebbles and squeezing them out between his fingers, one by one. These are too far away! We wouldn't be able to leave and get back quickly - these are day-long trips at best! Someone would absolutely notice our absence. Not to mention the toll on the horses - they'll need the time between returning to the castle and whenever we head out again to rest. There's got to be something we can do that's quick, and close.
He glanced towards Zelda's tent, letting the last few stones drop from his grasp, remembering the map of Hyrule on the Sheikah Slate. A look at that would be helpful, he thought, contemplating whether it was a plausible idea. Seeing the rivers and mountains and settlements… although it's not a great map, it's still something, and just looking at it could help me remember what everything looks like…
But he didn't know how to work the Sheikah Slate, and he didn't dare risk breaking it, or accidentally destroying the image of the map - the only map they had with them; Link had been required to memorize the kingdom's geography early on in his years as a squire, so they hadn't really needed one until now, accessing remote locations that weren't referenced on most maps, and that weren't often visited save by the most devout of worshippers.
So… back to the drawing board, he thought glumly.
Periodically, throughout the night, he went to the horses to change the location of their pickets, giving them fresh locations for grazing so that they didn't eat up everything on the same piece of land. But it wasn't until the early morning that, as stars began to fade from the sky and he moved Timber to another area, a possible solution rang through his mind - one that he didn't particularly like, but that felt better than nothing.
Groose would know a good place, he decided reluctantly, patting Timber's shoulder. As soon as we reach another settlement, I'll leave a letter with their courier, explaining only as much as necessary. And… and hopefully he won't laugh this off.
Grimacing, imagining it, he looked into Timber's dark eyes. "He… he wouldn't do that, would he?" he murmured.
A few months ago he knew what his answer would have been. Absolutely. Without hesitation.
But… now… with the drastic changes in Groose's personality, and a sincerity that Link couldn't deny…
He trudged back to the campfire - now cold and dead - and sat back down, leaning back against stone. Zelda is worth the risk, he told himself firmly, heaving a sigh. She's worth enduring whatever Groose might pull. And… and if he does pull something, then I'll just have to come up with a backup plan.
He frowned. And considering how long it took me just to come up with this… well, I'd better hope for a miracle.
\-==/\==-/
The roads were quieter on their second day of travel. Crossing the Bridge of Hylia they encountered a large caravan – guarded by mercenaries, not knights - from Lurelin Village, likely containing fresh fruits and vegetables to be taken deeper into the kingdom. But other than them, the bridge was eerily silent. Abandoned.
The path sloped downwards leading into Faron Woods, and once they reached level ground Link could clearly see what made travel in this region so difficult when snow was melting off of higher areas and running downhill. Large puddles obscured much of the trail, hiding thick, sucking mud that would easily trap a person's foot or a wagon wheel. He could see tracks in the equally muddy ground just to the side of the trail and took Timber over those instead, and Dinraal followed; although the mud was just as thick as it was on the trail, the grass and plants growing heavier there provided more traction, making it an overall safer route.
Once they passed beneath the cover of the trees, the air seemed to thicken, although the temperature remained cool. Draped in shadows, the forest held much of the water that fell from above or that ran down the mountainsides to pool between its roots instead of allowing the sun to evaporate it. Link caught himself absently tugging at the neckline of his undershirt, uncomfortably sweaty and increasingly damp from the high humidity. He noticed Zelda frequently mopping at her brow with her sleeve, her cheeks flushed.
They hadn't been travelling in the forest's stifling grasp for long when Zelda let out a surprised cry. "Nayru's love! I can't believe it! But of course it would make sense -"
"What is it?" Link asked frantically, wildly looking around, on edge at once.
"It's nothing bad," Zelda chuckled, grinning at him. "Look at that - and that! On both sides of the trail!"
He followed her pointed finger and felt his heart seize - they were nearing two massive towers of some sort, one of them crumbling and in ruin and the other seemingly intact, though crawling with moss and ivy. They appeared to have a square base, but there were round, ringed pillars at each corner, and the sides were ridged. Both structures were heavily worn, surfaces that originally might have been smooth now pocked and rugged, sharp angles now rounded by age.
"It's a Zonai ruin," Zelda beamed at him. "This region has the highest concentration of Zonai artifacts in the entire kingdom, even Thyphlo. And - my goodness, it all makes sense now - the Fural Plain is just to the south of here; that's where your parents were from! It's no wonder they became so interested in the Zonai, with these ruins practically right next door!"
Link felt incapable of speech, a thick lump of emotion in his throat, burning in his eyes. He blinked rapidly, studying the towers with new eyes as they passed by, craning his neck to look after them until the trees had concealed them from view.
They probably took this very road together, so often… Those sketches in the book at the castle were probably drawn here in these woods. Perhaps they spent weeks camped under these trees, copying down every detail, making observations… theories… connections…
I could've even been here before, when I was too young to remember.
The towers were certainly not the last of the Zonai structures along the trail. There were smaller pillars with sturdy square bases periodically spaced along the ruins of an ancient wall, a massive carving in the shape of a boar's head, and what appeared to be stone steps leading only to a mound of stone - something that once might have been a temple of some sort, now molded by time and the elements into a seemingly natural part of the landscape.
Link thought about what he had overheard from Impa - an ancient road branching off from the main path, a road that led directly to the Spring of Courage and that allowed them to stay on horseback the entire journey - and scanned the thickening undergrowth carefully, wondering when, and how, they would find it. As they travelled deeper into the forest, reaching the Pagos Woods, the temperature climbed higher, chasing away the lingering chill of an early spring nighttime. In tandem with the rising humidity, the greater warmth was hardly comfortable; Link felt as if he was wrapped in a thick winter cloak that trapped him in his own sweat, suffocating his skin. Less than an hour passed before he pulled off his doublet, stifled by its heat.
They crossed a small, simple wooden bridge over the Floria River near its mouth, at the end of its journey from Lake Floria, where it flowed calm and slow. It was full; Link didn't doubt that its snowmelt-swollen waters, streaming off of the top of Mount Floria and Angel Peak, would pose a significant danger to travelers further down the trail, where the water moved faster, angrier. He hoped that whatever river Impa's 'ancient road' flowed along wouldn't be quite as heavily impacted by mountain runoff - one less thing they would have to worry about.
Beyond the bridge the landscape began to undergo a more dramatic change - a change that had begun in Faron Woods, certainly, but that came to its full fruition here. Nearly every aspect of their surroundings had changed - tall palms with rough, ridged bark and old leaf sheaths hanging like thick, dank strands of hair beneath fresh leaves, far taller than the comparatively squat trees of Faron Woods, with their smooth, papery bark. There was a feeling of greater liveliness to these deeper woods that hadn't slept through winter and instead flourished throughout those long, cold months.
Although they probably weren't all that cold here, Link thought.
Zelda halted Dinraal, sliding the Sheikah Slate from her hip and staring intently at the screen with a slight frown. She glanced back up, quickly examining their surroundings with narrowed eyes, and her frown deepened.
"It… it should be around here," she said, looking up at him.
Link sat taller on Timber's back, hoping the higher vantage point could help him see what Zelda might be overlooking. The colder, gray stone of the southwestern Necluda area had transitioned to darker, earthier rock with a reddish tinge that clashed rather beautifully with the forest floor of grass and ferns - already vibrantly green and growing, thanks to Faron's year-round temperate climate - and the canopy above, palm fronds laced with traces of yellow interlocking and overlapping over each other high above, keeping the heat and humidity closed in.
"Er… what, exactly, am I looking for?" he asked. "Is it… is it a Sheikah road, or Zonai, or…?"
"Zonai, I believe," Zelda mused, cupping her chin in one hand as she looked over the Sheikah Slate once more. "This is the place she pointed to; I'm sure of it…"
Link checked over the sides of the trail again, remembering the overgrown towers and picturing their unique shape and style in his mind, trying to see if there was anything similar in this area. And in the deep shadows beneath one particularly thick palm, nestled against a short cliff, he could just see what appeared to be a man-made corner. He nudged Timber closer and grinned when the entire tower came into view; glancing back over her shoulder he beckoned to Zelda. "Could this be it?"
Her gaze lit up and she trotted Dinraal closer, inspecting the structure with a practiced eye, from its top to the base. She nodded, pointing to the ground just beyond the tower, where a long, narrow stone slab had been set into the ground, parallel to the existing path, almost like a paving stone. And beyond that first stone, a little farther into the forest, there was another one, clumped together with two more.
"This has to be what Impa was talking about," Zelda said, consulting the Sheikah Slate once more. "It looks like we'll have a way to go before we reach the Dracozu River, but once we get there, essentially we just have to follow it downstream to get to the Spring of Courage."
"Excellent," Link murmured, hopping down from Timber's back and leading him on foot off of the main road, following the scattered weathered stones of the ancient path.
"Should I… should I dismount as well?" Zelda called after him, leaning forward on Dinraal's back.
Link hesitated, scanning the wilderness ahead of them. The trees weren't quite as thick here, allowing glimmers of sunlight through, and he could see more Zonai structures - just to the side of the first piece of the broken road was another tower, and beyond that a hillside that once must have been a building; one tall wall was still exposed, and at its base stretched out a massive carving of some sort of snake or dragon. And further still another tower, and another snake… truly, it was - or had been, thousands of years ago - a hub of Zonai activity.
But the Goddesses only knew what toll the wear of the ages had exerted upon the ruins. Cracked stones loose on the ground… hidden sinkholes… any number of things that could break a horse's leg or twist their ankle. By taking the lead and carefully examining the ground, Link hoped that he could determine ahead of time where such treacherous ground would lie, and avoid taking Timber and Dinraal over it. Then the only real threat to the Princess would be low-hanging branches or vines capable of knocking her off of the saddle - but palm trees didn't have branches that low, if at all, and with the length of the Master Sword's blade he hoped he could cut the vines that would pose a problem before she reached them.
"No," he decided, looking back at her. "I… don't think that'll be necessary at the moment. I'll let you know if I think it might be safer."
She nodded eagerly, and he turned his attention to the Zonai ruins once more.
He remembered getting posted to Lurelin once, and held only vague flashes of memory about the journey to and from the oceanside village, memories that returned in bits and pieces as he led the Princess and their horses deeper into the crumbling, jungle-ensconced city. The alien sounds of creatures native to Faron, found nowhere else in the kingdom, keeping him up at night and setting him on edge during the day. Odd hoots from almost humanoid furry creatures with dramatically elongated arms, visible every now and then as they swung from vine to tree. Wicked-sounding cackles from some sort of bird that remained stubbornly out of sight. The omnipresent hum and chirp of insects - the only reason Link was glad for his long-sleeved undershirt keeping his skin mostly protected from their bites.
It was unsettling territory, unsettling and almost entirely foreign to him. He felt the back of his neck prickle under the pressure of unseen eyes; his chest tightened in the thick, humid air, and despite the heat his soul felt cold and anxious in the dark shadows cast by broad palm fronds and the much smaller, more plentiful leaves of strangler figs and hulking kapok trees, blotting out the light of the sun high above, trapping them in murky duskiness.
Lizalfos probably climb trees, he thought warily, stretching his attention thin across the forest floor and the remnants of the Zonai road, and the thick ferns of varying sizes one either side of - and sometimes in the middle of - the road, and the criss-crossing branches and leaves high above, ideal for tree-dwelling predators lying in wait for unwitting prey.
He didn't know whether to feel relieved or more worried when the ancient road led them into a narrow canyon, steep moss-coated cliffsides cutting them off from the denser regions of the forest. On the one hand, more sunlight managed to pierce down through the thick canopy, dispelling some of the gloom, although it didn't do much to thin out the heavy, humid air.
On the other hand, he knew that anyone - anything - could be watching them from the top of the cliffs, with their arrows aimed at the Princess' heart, and he wouldn't be able to do a thing.
He swallowed thickly, halting at the base of a different kind of Zonai tower - one that was carved in the clear likeness of a dragon's head. Mopping uselessly at his brow with his damp sleeve, he glanced back at Zelda. "I think you should walk up here with me until we get out of this canyon," he murmured, trying not to raise his voice any louder than was necessary.
She squinted at him, puzzled for a moment before obediently sliding down from Dinraal's shoulders and walking up to join him. Link jogged briefly back to Dinraal, pulling his reins forward over his head and tying them at the back of Timber's saddle, to one of the straps securing their travelling supplies in place. Then he returned to Zelda's side and gently pulled her just slightly behind him before moving on down the trail.
"Are we being followed?" she asked quietly, her breath tickling his ear.
"It's impossible to tell," he answered. "I'd rather not take any chances."
He heard her sigh and winced, knowing that he was once again reminding her of the unchangeable truth of their roles - he would gladly take a blade or an arrow or a fist for her, and in doing so didn't permit her the chance to do the same for him. And there's just nothing she can do about it. She has to accept it - she doesn't really have a choice.
He reached back, finding her hand and giving it a light squeeze, hoping to convey at least some degree of comfort and empathy.
The canyon didn't end when they reached the river, although the walls did seem shorter; perhaps they had been worn down by centuries of rain, heavily exposed to the elements since no tree could grow on the surface of the river and thus the skies and all they contained carried a greater influence. Shorter distance for an arrow to fly, he thought, his chest feeling tight at the thought of taking a second arrow that week. One's my limit, I hope.
They took more and more breaks as the day wore on; the horses were sweating heavily, still in the process of shedding their thick winter coats. Undoubtedly they were uncomfortable in the stifling heat. Zelda didn't seem to be faring well either, her hair stringy with sweat and her cheeks deeply flushed, and Link doubted he looked much better. He couldn't imagine how the Zonai could have survived living in such an uncomfortable land.
Unless they went around naked. But even then - the bugs! Timber had squashed a beetle the size of his hoof on accident, and at the river's edge thousands of tiny insects buzzed and hovered over slower-moving areas, food for frogs lurking just beneath the water's surface; they were nothing more than pests to the humans and horses walking by. Link lost count of how many he'd slapped away from his neck - sometimes not until after he felt the sharp sting of their mandibles.
"It's intolerable," Zelda complained as they trudged through soft mud where the old road had almost entirely worn away. The little insects loved it. "I mean, at least it's so miserable that the Yiga wouldn't dare set foot here, and I can't blame them! If I was faced with the choice of staying anywhere else where they might get to me, or staying here with the guarantee that they'd never show up, I'd honestly rather -"
A sudden spray of water and white scales erupted from the river's surface and Link whipped the Master Sword from its sheath, instinctively pushing Zelda behind him as Timber backed away in surprise and Dinraal reared up on his hind legs, whinnying. The pale lizalfos - an albino morph of some sort - landed in a low crouch on the road in front of them, its chameleon eyes trained fixedly on its prey, gleaming a strange, evil red. It straightened, revealing the jagged triple-bladed boomerang and matching shield it clasped in its claws.
"Stay back by Timber," Link murmured. "This shouldn't take long."
And with two more splashes, and hoarse, grating croaks, a pair of darker-skinned green lizalfos hopped up onto the road alongside the first, wielding similar weapons, their eyes gleaming with the same burning red hunger.
Link lunged into action, feeling the Master Sword bite through thick scaly green skin and the more pliable flesh beneath; he yanked his blade free in time to block an overhead blow from the second green lizalfos and pulled back for a counterattack, thrusting the Master Sword at its heart. But with incredible speed the lizalfos leapt backwards before dropping into a low crouch, weapons clutched close to its body, and scampering forward, scaled feet slapping wetly against weathered stones. Link charged to meet it, running it through even as it raised its boomerang to attack. Stupid.
The pale lizalfos hadn't yet made any move to attack; it had waited patiently as its companions were killed. Link eyed it warily, holding his bloodied sword defensively in front of him. The lizalfos met his gaze, and he felt a chill run down his spine.
It wasn't at all the stare of a wild animal, nor did it contain the fierce protectiveness of a beast protecting its territory or even on the hunt for more food. It didn't seem to care at all that two of its kin had just perished on the end of Link's blade.
No… this was a creature that craved violence, that yearned for blood not as sustenance but for pleasure. It was planning its next moves carefully, having sent in its lackeys to test the skill of its opponents. Link shivered again. Well… this is a first.
The lizalfos didn't seem keen on making the first move. It stood a few paces from him, in the exact place it had first come ashore, holding its weapons almost casually. And Impa's words rang in his mind - If you can kill a foe in one move, do it.
Link tried to envision her fighting style - moving in such a way that she never telegraphed exactly what she was planning. But as soon as I make a move, it'll know I plan to attack. And it'll act.
He released a short breath through his nose and took a quick step forward, the Master Sword raised. At once the pale lizalfos leapt backwards into the river, out of reach, and reared its head back. He glimpsed its vibrantly colored tongue and a spray of thick mucus shot from its mouth, splattering across Link's shirt. He took a step backward in surprise, his lip curled in disgust. "Are you – are you spitting at me?" he exclaimed, glaring at the creature. Its jaws parted once more in response, and he raised his right arm in time to intercept its saliva, but his sleeve – already damp from his sweat – was soaked.
"Get out of there and give me a real fight!" he exclaimed, revolted, scowling at the creature. It squawked at him, a hoarse cry of derision, and paddled further away. Link stepped closer to the river, quickly growing angry. Of all the infantile actions a monster could take, and of all the obstacles between them and the Spring of Courage, after half a day already spent in insufferable heat and humidity and insects – this was more than he could take. Perhaps his initial thought that the lizalfos craved violence had been incorrect, he thought dourly. "Come on and – urgh!" Another glob of spit struck him in the chest, and after the shock of the impact faded he could feel a strange prickly burning spreading across his skin under his shirt, quickly growing in intensity. Understanding seeped into his mind, and as the lizalfos regarded him he could've sworn it seemed to smirk at him knowingly. It's poisonous.
He had known that a bite from a lizalfos would quickly fester and often lead to nearly-fatal infections. But he had always thought it was because they were venomous creatures, not that there was something dangerous in their saliva.
"Coward," he growled, but as it spat at him again he intercepted it on his arm nonetheless. With Zelda and the horses behind him, there was no other choice. Goddesses preserve us – what do I do?
As it readied another glob of saliva he lunged down and snatched a rock with his left hand, momentarily forgetting the wound in his shoulder and hurling it at the lizalfos. At once his injury made itself known with a flare of pain and he gasped, nearly dropping the Master Sword to grab at it, just as the next spit attack struck his chest.
"You coward!" he exclaimed, but his voice didn't carry the fire he felt – it seemed slightly harder to breathe than it had been only moments ago, despite the humidity. "C-come on – out of… of…" He was suddenly gasping for breath but air wasn't coming in; his chest felt hot, so hot; he clawed at his shirt with his left hand and groaned as the pain only increased – the lizalfos reared its head back once more, a triumphant gleam in its eyes –
And suddenly there was an arrow in its chest, just below its neck. The lizalfos lurched back from the impact, its jaws snapping shut and its eyes wide. Apparently choking on the saliva it had readied, it spasmed into a coughing fit, convulsing in the river, thrashing violently, its blood quickly dyeing the water red. Its desperate struggles quickly weakened as it sank beneath the water, and though the deep red color remained, the ripples soon calmed. Link breathed a quiet sigh of relief.
"Are you alright?" Zelda asked urgently, reaching out for him.
Link shied away, backing against the ravine wall. "Don't touch me," he warned, his voice shaking. "Its spit is poisonous. And I'm covered in it."
Zelda winced, letting her hand fall back to her side. "Let's get upstream a bit, then. Just in case any of the saliva is in the water right now. Then you need to get out of those clothes, and wash off as much as you can in the river."
Link nodded, taking in a strenuous breath. His chest and arm were throbbing, and though compared to other forms of pain he'd endured it wasn't horribly intense, there was something about it, perhaps an effect of the overbearing heat and humidity, that was making him feel nauseous.
He stumbled forward a few steps and then the discomfort became too much to bear; he crumpled to his knees and vomited onto the overgrown path, his insides cramping painfully. He heard Zelda following him and could imagine the worried, frustrated look on her face. There was nothing she could do to help him now, not without exposing herself to the lizalfos' saliva as well.
Link dragged himself to the edge of the river and fumbled with trembling hands with his baldric and then his undershirt, grateful that he wasn't wearing any more layers. His shoulder twinged angrily as he used it to peel off his shirt and he grunted, but with his right arm hurting so badly right now he didn't really have much choice other than to use his left.
He winced, and heard Zelda gasp, when he finally managed to get the shirt off. Where the spit had struck him his skin was mottled, red, and swollen; exposed to the sticky humid air it felt almost to sizzle and burn, and he clenched his teeth to keep from crying out. He was shaking badly but managed to kick out of his boots and stockings; then on trembling legs he pushed himself to his feet and waded into the river – uncomfortably tepid, not cold and crisp as rivers ought to be, in his opinion – until it reached his chest. At that depth, his limbs felt slightly buoyant, and the effort of keeping himself standing did not seem so great. The riverbed was smooth under his bare feet, consisting of what felt like large rocks coated in algae; it was slippery, but he felt confident he wouldn't slip.
Cold water, he was sure, would have stung at first but eventually greatly eased the burn of his skin. Instead, though the warm river was certainly washing the lizalfos saliva from his skin - he could see it in the water; thin, wispy tendrils snaking away from his skin in the mild current - it did nothing to soothe its angry effect.
"Is it helping, at all?" Zelda asked from the shore, her hands clasped together in worry around a roll of bandages she had fetched from Timber.
"No," Link muttered grumpily, clenching his hands into fists to keep from scratching his skin. "But… it's working, I think. It's washing off the, uh, spit. It just… doesn't feel very good."
Zelda winced sympathetically and nodded. "What should we do? Do we wrap it up, or…?"
"No," Link answered again, turning to wade out of the river. The water streaming away from him no longer appeared to carry any saliva. "It needs cold water, I think. Cold water pressed against it, with herbs to reduce inflammation. And we don't have any of that here."
Zelda sighed, nodding in solemn agreement. "Well… we do have clean water, at least. Your bandages are soaked through – I'd rather not see what this river water could do to an open wound."
"It's not open anymore," he protested. "That's what stitches are for!"
The Princess' eyes were narrowed, and she pointed at his shoulder. "There's still a bit of bleeding," she countered. "You've been injured before, Link! I know you know that wounds like this don't heal in two days, regardless of receiving proper care or not! Goddesses above, you become such an idiot when you're injured! Get over here this instant and sit down, and you're going to let me take care of you to the best of my ability, or so help me Farore I'll – I'll –"
"You'll what?" Link asked with a sheepish smile, recognizing her angry voice for what it was – earnest and heartfelt concern for his wellbeing. "Shove a frog down my throat?"
She maintained her irritated façade a moment longer. "If I thought it would help, yes!" she exclaimed, but a moment later her lips split into a wide grin. She shook her head, reaching out for his shoulder as he neared and gently guiding him to a sitting position. "You're impossible sometimes. Making me smile and laugh after all that just happened." Her voice softened; if not for their close proximity, Link doubted he would have heard her at all. "But… I'm grateful for that. Especially considering how difficult things were between us at first. Back then, your very presence tore me apart. Now… now I feel that you're holding me together."
Link nodded, biting back a wince as she unwound the sullied bandages around his injured shoulder and began patting it dry. "And... you're holding me together, too," he told her, matching her volume. Then he grinned, and gestured to his shoulder with his right hand, still shaking from the lizalfos' spit. "Sometimes quite literally."
Zelda smirked at him, a quiet chuckle bubbling from her lips. "Good one."
She was getting used to tending to his wounds, he observed. There was confidence in her hands as she washed his shoulder with their supply of clean water, and a well-informed watchfulness in her gaze as she meticulously examined the sutures Impa had placed. It didn't take her very long to rewrap the wound afterwards. No, Link reflected, she couldn't always help out in the ways she wanted to. But this was yet another example of her determination and dedication when she found what she could do to help.
If only her father would see that, he thought, for the umpteenth time.
When Zelda finished, he pulled himself to his feet, his knees wobbling. His limbs felt heavy in the aftermath of the lizalfos' attack, even those that had not come into direct contact with the saliva. Zelda hovered at his side until she seemed certain he wouldn't topple over, and then she rushed to Timber's saddle and pulled his Champion's tunic from a saddle bag, standing on the tips of her toes. She jogged back towards him, sweat gleaming on her brow, and held it out. For a brief moment Link decided he'd rather be shirtless in this suffocating humid heat – then at least his skin could breathe, if only a little bit – but for Zelda's sake he took the tunic and gingerly pulled it on. It wasn't made of coarse material, but it still felt as rough as cheap wool on his damaged chest. At least it was short-sleeved, and didn't come into contact with the raw skin on his arm. He decided to buckle the Master Sword to his belt and packed his baldric away in a saddle bag instead of putting it on.
When he reached for Timber's reins, intending to continue down the ancient road to the Spring of Courage, Zelda closed her hand over his, bringing it down. "Are you sure you're well enough to continue?" she asked quietly. "The lizalfos…"
"It's only really dangerous if they bite you," he assured her, remembering lessons from long ago. "And this one didn't. The worst of it has passed, I think."
Zelda still looked worried. "There could be more ahead, and you're already weakened. If we take the afternoon to rest, start back up tomorrow, you'd have a better chance."
Link sighed. "What really got me," he said, leaving Timber for the ferns off to one side of the road and grunting as he bent down, "was the lack of a shield." One of the two green-skinned lizalfos he had slain lay in the undergrowth, and he pried its shield from its hard, dead grip and held it in his left hand experimentally. It wasn't terrifically heavy – most lizalfos weapons and armor tended to be light, so as not to hinder them in the water – but it put an uncomfortable strain on his injured shoulder. He sighed. Not a very good position to be in.
He returned to Timber and hooked the shield's handle around the saddle horn. He wouldn't waste energy and possibly damage his shoulder carrying it around, but hopefully it was accessible enough to be useful should they encounter any more lizard monsters.
Zelda still didn't look particularly happy, but she didn't voice any other protest as he took Timber's reins and started down the old road once more. She walked at his side, casting a last glance down the river, where the white lizalfos had fallen.
"I've never heard of an albino lizalfos before… have you?"
