Zelda woke up wrapped in Link's arms, groggy, but awake. It had been one of the best nights she'd slept since before her capture.
The bed was soft, comfortable, and welcoming, and there had been no midnight interruptions of nightmares or runaways. Link's arms were warmer than the blanket, but Zelda reveled in it.
But she could see the bright sun peaking through the window, and she knew they had to move.
She grinned to herself and let her finger trace an old, faded scar up Link's arm. He made a noise and stirred immediately, pulling her closely in the process. Zelda chuckled and lightly pried his arm from her.
"Morning," he muttered, though he made no move to stand.
"It's getting late."
His eye peaked open and glanced at the window before shutting again. "Five more minutes, then I'll get up. You should take five, too,"
She rolled her eyes and sat up, grabbing her things from the end of the bed and moving to Link's back, so he couldn't watch her change. She made sure there was no mirror this time, but it was angled far from her.
As she was about to pull her boots on, she heard a noise from outside the widow and glanced at Link. He sat up, hearing it for himself as well, and they both quickly made their way over to glance out. But all they could see were people running.
"Great," Link muttered, heading into the hallway. He stopped someone who was coming up the stairs from the ground floor of the inn. "What's happening?"
"Moblin raid, courtesy of the King."
Link cursed and turned to Zelda, who was listening, mortified. "Again? He's attacking everywhere that we are. Do you think he knows?"
"I don't. I think he's just trying to wipe out everyone left who opposes him before your cousin arrives. I think we're just in the wrong place, but there is no right place to be if this happens everywhere. Here's our moment, Zelda. We still have time to get out and ride north."
Zelda crossed her arms and sighed. "You saw the looks on their faces. They're defeated."
"Defeated folk won't fight well."
"I know. But… those soldiers, that whole tavern… they were all so full of life. I'll bet they'd fight to keep it."
"Those who fight for their loved ones and their lives have more incentive to fight harder."
"Which do we do?" Zelda breathed.
"I can't make this decision, Your Highness."
Zelda rolled her eyes at his tone, even though she knew he was right. This one had to be her call, because he would follow her no matter what.
"We'd be separated."
Link nodded and started to grab his things, getting them together either way. "We would. And I might not come back. Or you might be overrun. Things can go any number of unpredictable ways."
She made a frustrated noise and tied her hair back, her decision made. "These are my people. I was never taught to run when there were those in need. I'll offer the field surgeon my skills. You can fight, or stay with me."
"They wouldn't let me stay with you if I tried," he laughed, pulling his chainmail out. "A healthy fighting-age man doing nothing in a medical tent? I'd be killed by allies for that one."
"As long as neither of us are hurt, we ride hard and fast out of here as soon as it's done. We need distance."
"Agreed," Link said, handing her his other knife once he'd gotten the familiar uniform on. "Keep this one in your boot, just to be safe."
"Link!" Zelda said, grabbing his arm before he reached the door handle. She hesitated and closed her eyes. "I command you to come back alive."
When she opened them, she wondered if she was mistaking the expression on his face. It was warm, soft, and altogether something she'd only seen on the faces of others.
He closed the gap between them and shocked her by reaching out to brush his knuckles lightly against her cheek. "In that case, I expect you to be there—safe- when I do."
"Take Epona. You might need her."
Link let his fingers run their path one more time before stepping back. "Okay. I'll meet you in the medical area. Leave our things here."
"Okay. Be safe."
Link nodded once before heading into the hallway, mixing with the other frantic residents of the inn. Zelda grabbed what she could, and then joined the chaos herself to make her way to the physician.
Zelda tied a simple band of cloth across her hair, keeping loose strands from dangling in her way as she smoothed down the apron she'd been given.
"You!" a female physician called to Zelda. "Grind these herbs together. They're used—"
"For a poultice," Zelda finished, grabbing them from the table and placing them in the mortar.
"Oh, you're the one they said has experience?" the physician turned to her, watching as she worked.
"I do, yes."
"Good. We'll need those who are ready to help, but those who are trained are all the more use. Name?"
"Zelda." She glanced over, and it was clear that the physician was waiting for her surname as well. Clearing her throat, Zelda debated using Green again, like at the inn, but she'd been Linkle, not Zelda. She could make something up, but no names would come to her fast enough. "Zelda Forrester."
"Call me Nim. Okay Forrester, get clean bandages ready, sterilizers, thread, needles, a fire, and keep a knife ready over the coals. When you're done, find water, rags, take this to one of the runners and have them go to the apothecary to get the things I've written down."
Nim went back to mixing her own concoction and looked up as someone else entered the area. "It's about time."
The man shrugged. "I had to explain that I'm not a soldier."
Nim glanced behind her at Zelda. "This one is our best shot. She's done this before."
He went up to Zelda and held out her hand. "Shad. Pleasure to meet you…"
Zelda brushed her hand and shook his. "Zelda Forrester."
"Shad," Nim called. "Go get the other volunteers set up. Have them put out bed rolls or something."
Just then, there was a far-off group shout, voices raised and energized by everything around them. And not long after came the echoing of metal on metal.
"Are they that close?" Zelda whispered, turning to the other two.
"Yes and no," Shad said, pushing the rims up as they slid off his nose. "The dimensions of the plain they are fighting on offer a decrease of sound reduction, allowing it to travel all the way to us. However, we should not fear that anyone will stumble on us, as we are far enough away. And even if they do, we still have a barrier between us and Saria Town."
As used to the noises as she was, Zelda swallowed and sent a silent prayer to all the gods and goddesses who might be listening.
"Forrester!" Nim snapped. "I need some of the valerian root! Fast!"
Zelda hurried to grab what they'd prepared, using her own thoughts to drown out the screams of the soldier in pain in front of Nim. Nim took everything from Zelda, who retreated back to the soldiers with lesser wounds, and stitched up one's leg before tying the other's arm into a sling. They couldn't afford to give every injured soldier a potion, and they had to make do.
But Zelda turned as another soldier with an arrow in her leg was dragged onto the table.
"Can you get that one?" Shad asked, holding his hand down over a dark wound, trying to stop the blood. "Or do you need help?"
Zelda examined the arrow. It seemed mostly intact, save for a small section of splintered wood. "I can do this one."
Lifting the soldier's leg onto a chair offered the space for the arrow not to touch anything while Zelda looked at it closer once more. "What's your name?"
"Trice," the soldier hissed.
"Well, Trice, I'll have this out in a moment, don't worry. You might be uncomfortable, but this first part shouldn't hurt." Zelda grabbed sheers that had been supplied for them and clipped the arrowhead off, allowing her the maneuverability to pull the remainder of the shaft from Trice's leg.
"You know what you're doing?" Trice asked, glancing at Shad.
"I do," Zelda assured her after seeing her hesitant gaze. "I've done this before, but he only just met me. He doesn't know."
Zelda dumped some of the disinfectant onto the cloth and held it ready. "This one will likely hurt more. Are you ready?"
Trice nodded and gripped the bed as Zelda pulled the rest of the arrow out, pressing hard with the cloth. She handed it off to one of the other volunteers.
"Candle, please," Zelda said, holding out her hand. The volunteer gave her one that had a protector from wax drippings around it. Lowering her hand, she could just see deep enough into the wound to see that there was one small piece of wood from the splintered arrow that needed to come out. She handed the candle off for another to hold and grabbed a nearby tool with a long nose that she could use to reach in deeper than her hand.
Trice let out a harsh cry as Zelda tugged on the wood that was lodged into internal pieces of the body that were never meant to be touched. She pulled it slowly, despite the blood that was dripping onto her from the wound, and set both down on the ground to grab the cloth once again.
"You'll be alright," Zelda all but hummed in her most soothing voice. "Let's get you all stitched up now."
Zelda had enjoyed a small break between the last three soldiers who'd come in. They'd informed everyone that there are far more wounded on the field, and that the dinofols and lizafols who were with the moblins were posing a much greater threat. Several of the better-trained men and women headed further out to meet them, while the volunteers who were simply interested in saving their village were fighting the moblins. The last three had been from the latter, and had reported no word from those who'd ventured farther out.
Keeping her mind off the fact that Link would undoubtably follow the dinofols, she sat beside Shad and waited for more to be brought in.
Eventually, soldiers on horses returned, dragging bodies of the dead and wounded back, the ones who couldn't safely escape the battlefield for wound treatment.
Shad and Nim held their breaths as they saw just how many had been injured and killed. Shad spoke first. "We won't be able to keep defending the town at this rate. We won't have any residents left."
But Nim passed by them both. "I'd rather die than stop fighting. So get out here and help me bring the worst inside."
Zelda could feel herself covered in blood by the time they'd saved those they could still reach in time. Her hands were the only things she bothered to keep washed, and that was only for the sake of staying clean and sterile.
"Miss?" she heard from a soft voice. She looked around to see a young man lying on the ground, covered in blood.
Kneeling beside him, she looked over his wounds. No. He wasn't going to make it another ten minutes.
"Hello," Zelda said sweetly, taking the boy's hands.
The boy tried to get a word out, but Zelda could hear the choke of blood in the back of his throat. She tried to calm him as he realized it too, and his breathing sped up. Zelda helped roll him onto his side so he could spit as much out as possible.
"Miss? M-my mother… she… she doesn't know… I came here. But… I'm going to… die, aren't I?"
Zelda looked him over. His dark brown hair and eyes were wide with anticipation and fear, but mostly with shame. Because this… a young boy… had snuck away from his mother to protect his town.
"What's your name?"
"Giles Hatch."
"Hi Giles. Tell me, where's your mother? What's she look like? Perhaps I can send someone to find her." It was nothing more than an attempt to take the boy's mind off his pain. She'd never make it to the village and back before the boy stopped breathing.
"She… she… people say I look like her."
Zelda ran her hand through his hair. "I'll make sure someone finds her. Just hold on, okay?"
"Okay," he breathed out, though it was harsh and labored.
"Is there anyone else we should look for? Do you have any other family you want here?"
"No. I have a… nephew. They tried… to take him. He shouldn't see this."
"You fought bravely for him, Giles." Zelda fought back a tear. He reminded her of Ellie and Aelia. Too young to bear the burden of their world.
"He's… safe?"
"He is. You saved him."
Giles smiled, but it immediately faded as he rapidly gasped several times, fighting to find any traces of air in his lungs. Zelda shushed him, grabbing his hand and smoothing back the hair on his sweating forehead.
Giles managed to take in one more breath and squeezed Zelda's hand. "Don't let go."
She shook her head, holding on to his hand with both of hers. "I won't. I'll hold your hand until the Goddess herself takes it from me."
His lips mouthed a thank you, but he never uttered another word. And Zelda sat there, holding his hand in hers until it began to feel cold. Only then did she find the energy to stand up and move to the next dying soldier to do it all again.