Chapter 3, The Hero
The sinking sun painted a glorious tapestry of yellow and purple, filling the west sky with warm colors. Such was the heavens. Down on the ground the evening chill had not yet settled in, but there was a little bite in the wind.
Zelda left the castle by a small door to the south while wrapping her cloak tighter around her shoulders and looked around. The door led to the castle gardens, and they were an utter mess.
Or a work in progress, if one felt generous.
Fields had been dug up and thin walkways were in the process of being broadened. The many fruit trees and berry bushes were untouched, along with some fields around them. All of those grew along the walkways and the walls, strictly cut and bound up on trellises. It was not made for beauty but efficiency, to keep the harvest easy and steady. Bees flitted about the myriad of flowers, bringing nectar back to the row of beehives in one corner of the wall.
The remaining vegetable fields were a stark contrast to the rest of the messy ground. There, fresh green stalks rose up from the dark, neatly kept earth.
It had been a source of food for the castle and the town, but with the peace at least half of it would be converted for beauty rather than survival. The contrast between the remaining and the wrecked fields made the latter look even worse, but it also held a promise of what would come. Zelda noted, first with surprise and then with delight, that the iron gates barring entry to the area had been removed. Of course the Queen would not lock anybody out, not when she didn't have to defend the place anymore. Next year this would be a lovely park full of edibles and flowers, open for everyone to enjoy.
Any future little Hero intending to speak with a future little Princess would not have to sneak his way in.
Zelda pursed her mouth as that line of thought ran through her head, unbidden and unwelcome.
It was almost two days since she had her long talk with the Queen, and she could still feel the remnants of the headache that she had woken up with. It had been a mad ride of emotions and revelations, and as good as it had felt, it left her drained.
But she felt better than she had ever since she was awakened. Still her mind swirled backwards to the past whenever she let her guard down, continuing to haunt her. A lifetime might, maybe, be enough to heal the wounds. For now she had to settle with keeping her thoughts in check as best she could, and appreciate that it did not feel so nauseatingly overwhelming anymore. For the moment, at least.
"My Lady?"
Ripped out of her thoughts by the sudden voice she spun around.
How did you not hear— him…
The reprimand in her head – sounding much like her Impa – trailed off as she saw who it was.
A vine climbing over the archway of the garden entrance had come loose, swaying lazily in the wind. The leaves growing on it nearly touched the young man's hat, their colors matching. He absently ducked under the bough as he stepped forwards. The sinking sun cast his shadow across the fields, sending it up alongside Zelda's and causing their silhouettes to stand face to face against the castle wall even when the two of them were much further apart.
She vaguely recalled Impa at some point – through all the information the old woman had heaped on her – mentioning that Link had been knighted and fitted with a garb more suitable for a legendary Hero… but that he felt uncomfortable in it, and could be quite loud about the matter.
He did not look like a champion from a heroic epic, but to her, nothing could make him look more like the Hero than what he currently wore – the same outfit she had first seen him in. Now it was cleaned, and repaired, or replaced. She had to wonder at how he could dress so alike a Kokiri, when he must have only heard about them in fairy tales. Did he even know?
A familiar-looking pommel was visible over his right shoulder, the sword held in a scabbard against his back. Zelda felt a pang of unease at seeing the Master Sword out in the open – the evil was banished, the sword ought to rest—
She shook it off, reminding herself that this was a very different era, and a different place. The Temple of Time was gone, and with it the resting place of the Master Sword. If the Triforce could be out in the open, then why not the blade that should protect it?
Link bowed when their eyes met. Not nearly as graceful as some well-drilled noble, just a stiff, simple bow that he probably had been taught off-handed to use should he ever need to address a village priest or mayor. Not anybody more important than that, as he had not been expected to meet anyone of a higher status.
Zelda reflected on that the Queen did not care for any fine etiquette.
The silence stretched, even as he straightened.
"At ease," Zelda said at length. It wasn't the right thing to say, but she didn't know what else. It did help, though, as Link's shoulders fell and he smiled a little.
"I'm sorry if I startled you," he said. Then he chuckled. "That was stupid of me, I've heard what Sheikah can do."
"You're lucky I'm rusty," Zelda said. It was only half in jest, but he did not know that.
He grinned, and it made him look even more different from the Link she remembered. He had almost never smiled, always carrying the sorrow of a child brutally ripped from everything he had known. His pain reflected in her and they had fought their entire lives and for NOTHING—
She drew in a deep breath and forced her mind back to the present.
"Did you… can I help you?" she asked, voice lower than she had intended.
Link gave her an odd look, catching on to something being off, but he was tactful enough to leave it. Instead, he reached over his shoulder.
"Yes, there's something that I… actually, a lot of people have been wondering about," he said.
Metal rasped against metal as he drew the sword from its scabbard, in a slow, fluid movement. Gently, he held the handle sideways, resting the blade in his other hand as he held it up to her.
"Is this the Master Sword?" he wondered.
Impa had mentioned that too, that they didn't know for certain. Zelda did, however.
She nodded, silently running her gaze along the blade, to the part near the hilt where it widened, emblazoned with the Triforce symbol. All of it familiar, from the tip to the guard made of that strange, blue metal in the shape of stylized wings, adorned with a golden diamond.
"It's really it?" Link pressed.
"Yes."
She reached out without thinking, stopped and hesitated. But Link made a slight forwards motion, and the wordless invitation made Zelda dare to brush her fingertips over the smooth metal of the blade. A warm hum reverberated through her fingers and whirl of blue sparks fluttered up. She drew back, but slowly. It had not hurt.
Part of her had expected it to lash out at her in rage, like the legends said it would against anyone unworthy touching it. She realized that only when there was no judgement, and she found that it surprised her.
Link spoke, but it took a moment for her to catch on to what he was talking about.
"They always knew it was magic, just not if it was the Master Sword." He seemed relieved. Letting out a soft sigh, he lifted the sword over his head and slipped it back into its sheath. "Not just anybody could draw it without burns."
"How did you come across it?" Zelda wondered.
"Zel— the Queen could wield it sometimes, just for a short while and only when she really needed it." His brow furrowed as he went on. "She brought it along when she assaulted Ganon's stronghold, but things didn't work out. I'm sure you've heard."
He waited for her to acknowledge that before he continued.
"One of her soldiers fled with the sword and hid… I found him while I was searching for the Triforce pieces."
The cloud passed from his face and he chuckled.
"If the spell had worked on Ganon, she would have finished the job without me."
Zelda smiled too, nodding agreement to the admiration in his voice. She could see, though, a much warmer feeling in his eyes as he looked up towards the castle walls. Warmth – but his smile suddenly faltered and he turned away from the castle, away from the probable direction of the Queen's room.
The shift took Zelda off guard, but in an instant she understood it. The wistful look in his eyes reminded her of how the Queen had looked when speaking of him.
However, her tactical side surged, warning her to not admit how much information she had. She did not like the way he turned from the castle and even took a couple of steps away. A stitch of panic flared up, his thoughts were obvious – he wanted to leave, not just the garden but entirely, and if there was even the slightest chance that his death might bring Ganon back then she could in no way stand by. She could not allow Link to go anywhere unsafe.
The Queen had her own ideas about why there was suddenly rift between her and her Hero – here was a chance to have his viewpoint.
"Is something wrong?" Zelda asked.
He shook his head, but it did not look earnest. Rubbing the back of his hand, he paced back and forth.
"I just…" He paused, hesitated and looked away for a moment. Then, he suddenly shook his head and faced her again. "I just feel walled in."
"Walled in?" Zelda echoed, playing dumb.
"Yes, because nobody trusts me to go outside anymore." He smiled, without any mirth. "Can you believe that? Suddenly everyone seems to think I'll break my neck from stumbling on a pebble."
"Certainly not, after all you've done?" But in truth she could share in that paranoia, perfectly well.
He did not respond, just shook his head with a distant look at the sky.
"If you feel disrespected, I'm sure the Queen would take issue with that," Zelda said. "You should talk to her."
He went right in the trap.
"I don't know how to talk to her anymore," Link said. He paced as he spoke, kicked at a small stone. It skipped off along the road. "I thought I did, for a while, but then she had to become a Queen."
"When could you talk with her?" Zelda asked.
A small voice in the back of her head insisted that she had no clue what she was doing and should let it be. But it was all so wrong. She could not bear to watch him and the Queen do this stupid, painful dance.
"When we—"
He paused and glanced at her, tried to find the words that would make it less inappropriate. Unaware that she already knew.
"When we made our way to safety." His pacing slowed as he stared at the sky. "She wasn't a Queen then. She wasn't even a Princess. I… she wasn't anything like I thought."
His small smile revealed that he had enjoyed being proven wrong.
"The first night we made camp she took my bow and came back with a sand fowl she'd shot out of the sky. She would have plucked and cooked it too but—" The memory widened his smile. "But it seemed more gentlemanly I do that since she brought it home."
Zelda just listened to him ramble, her heart aching as she saw the echo of the Queen's expression on the Hero's features as he mused over the dear memory.
An owl cried out in the distance, and the invasive noise shattered the spell. The dreamy look fell from Link's face as he shook himself out of his thoughts.
"We could talk then. And still, for a bit, when we found her people… even when she took charge." He started pacing again. "But then it started to fade. She had to be a leader, and I… I'm not. My family serves at a workshop, they don't even own it."
His smile was sardonic, and resigned.
"What does that matter?" Zelda asked, hotter than she intended. "You saved the kingdom… the world! You saved—"
She paused, didn't want to say it.
"Saved you, my Lady?" he said, softly. He held her gaze, with an unreadable look.
The wind whispered in the trees, and the owl cried into the dusk again.
"Yes," Zelda said at length.
"But you don't know what to do with yourself now, do you?"
She stared at him, struck mute. He gazed back evenly, with a flash of sadness and understanding in his eyes.
"Neither do I," he added, when she did not respond.
For a moment, silence hung heavy between them. Finally, Zelda closed her eyes and took in a deep breath. Steady. Steady.
"I'm… lost, yes. But I will find myself again, I'm certain. And I'm grateful… I never told you that, and I apologize."
If he sensed that she wasn't entirely truthful about being certain and grateful, he was tactful enough to not say anything. She would later come to know that such discretion was something he reserved for only a rare few people.
"Regardless," she continued, a little too quick, "I might be alone here, but you don't have to be. Don't you understand how grateful the Queen is for what you've done?"
Link gave a dark chuckle.
"I wasn't questing for the key to her bedroom!"
It slipped out of him, and his eyes widened before he had even finished speaking. Beet red, he slapped his hands over his mouth. For a moment they both just stood there, him biting his tongue and Zelda taken aback.
Then her shrewd side, the one looking for openings and hidden meanings everywhere – Sheik – hooked onto the defensive note in his voice and pulled through the embarrassment.
The way he said such an awful thing, angry, protesting… it wasn't the first time.
"You… is that what people think?" she asked, scowl digging into her forehead.
His hands fell from his face and he looked away.
"People think a lot of things," he muttered. "Even that I should be locked in the dungeon."
Obviously his intent was to change the subject, and if he had chosen any other derailment Zelda would not have allowed him to get away with it. Quite clever then, that he went straight for the extreme.
"What? Why?" she blurted.
"Oh, you haven't heard?" he said. He raised his hands, curling his fingers as if holding two items. "They say you take one part Ganon's ashes, and one fresh Hero's heart, and you slice it all together and whoop!" He threw his hands up in mocking cheer as his voice rose even higher. "Pig boy up, Hero down! So…"
He pivoted, motioning at the walls.
"Lock me up and throw away the key, that'll solve everything!" He stopped and faced her, shoulders falling as he scoffed, shaking his head. All the mad energy drained out of him, and suddenly he looked much, much older.
When he spoke again, it was in a low, bitter tone.
"Then there's no risk that Ganon comes back, and I can't claim the Queen's debt."
There were so many things wrong with everything he had just said, that Zelda had trouble deciding where to start.
"You're not like that," she said in a firm tone, starting with the easiest.
"Thank you." His smile was weak, but there was relief there. Like he had been desperate for somebody to say it, when he should have known – how many cruel whispers had he heard?
"And I can't believe that such nonsense would be the majority's opinion," Zelda continued, folding her arms.
"We've gone through a few…" He caught himself, and tried to veer off in a smoother direction. "War brings out a lot of quacks who like to play legendary Hero."
He might have cut himself off, but it still hurt.
We've gone through a few fallen Heroes.
Starting with mine.
Link continued speaking while Zelda was still struggling to pull herself together.
"And now they have peace, and their Hero, and it seems too good to be true." He chuckled again, humorless. "I lost so many fans when I snuck off to find the Triforce of Courage."
Part of her still could not help but agree that it had been foolish.
And then again, reclaiming a lost Triforce was an imperative pursuit in itself.
It didn't matter, she told herself. It was done, and for a good cause – if there were consequences, those could be faced. There had to be something more to this, he could not be that concerned with worried rumors and jealous suspicion. Unless…
"Are you scared that the Queen feels that way?" she asked, and watched him wince as if she had slashed him across the chest.
Silence.
Silence.
The wind rustled through the leaves in the trees, and in the distance there were laughing voices. Too far away to make out any words, though.
"I…"
Link let out a deep sigh and stared at the ground.
"I didn't do it for her. I didn't know her then. All of it… finding the pieces of the Triforce, making it through, fighting all those monsters, facing and killing Ganon… I did it because somebody had to. I didn't think I'd make it… just blaze the way, thin them out, make it possible for somebody else…"
He looked up and met her gaze.
"Now I'd do it for her." His eyes were dark with despair. "But then she would feel even more indebted. They… people always said the Princess would pay any price to win the war."
The core of his agony laid bared, pure as a swan's wing – so tender and vulnerable that it made Zelda's heart ache. This was chivalry, this was the Hero. Even if he was completely wrong.
"I believe she was prepared to risk all she had to win the war," Zelda said. "That's not the same as paying any price for victory. If she was that desperate, she would have married any King that had a great enough army."
Link flinched, opened his mouth, but Zelda did not stop.
"Any King, or Prince, whose first order of business would be to take her off the battlefield, and find a spell to mask that scar on her face," she said, and she found her voice far more bitter than she had intended. The Queen's resigned, slumping form flared in her memory.
They didn't deserve this, not these two, they had won they had won!
She wanted her meddling to be just that, a true wish for those who had healed her failure to have the happiness that had been denied her. But deep down, a wicked little voice whispered that if this Link married the Queen, he would be guarded for the rest of his life and there would never be a risk that Ganon's troops could carry out any resurrection experiment.
Link clenched his fists and looked away, lips drawing back from his teeth in disgust.
"That would kill her," he murmured, more to himself than her.
"Indeed."
Zelda took in a deep breath.
"Let me tell you about my world," she said, her own voice sounding strangely calm to her ears.
"Alright?" he said, taken off guard by the change of subject.
"When I was a child, Link…"
She had to pause for a second.
"I mean, my Link snuck into the castle gardens to see me. If the guards had caught him, he would just have been thrown out because he was a child too. If we had been older, he would have been executed on the spot."
"Well, he would have looked like an assassin breaking into the castle," Link commented.
Zelda shook her head.
"My point is, that was the only way we could have met. It's not the same, not now." She pointed at the castle walls, towards where she believed the Queen's room was. "That's not a fortress you're locked out of."
When he did not respond, only gazed up at the wall and started to shake his head, she threw all tact out.
"She told me she really enjoyed spending time with you alone after you defeated Ganon."
She had to bite her tongue to stop right there, to not lay it on even heavier with the Queen's revelations of how she felt about Link. That would be too far, even with how grossly Zelda had already overstepped all boundaries.
For a moment, Link just stared at her.
"Is… that true?" he finally managed in a papery whisper of his voice.
"Why would she lie to me about that?"
He had no answer to that.
"Go and talk to her, Link," Zelda said, slow and clear.
He glanced up at the wall one more time. Then he bowed to her.
"As my Lady commands."
It was obviously supposed to be playful, but his nervous hope made his voice strained. Without another word he hurried off.
Well, it was done.
Right or wrong, now she could only wait and see.
For a little while longer she wandered the gardens, until the dropping temperature drove her indoors. On the way back to her room, the distant sound of music and laughter reached her ears. It sounded so heartfelt and cheerful that she was drawn through it, following it through the corridors into the workers' dining hall.
The room was large and several long tables with benches were lined up inside of it. Though the furniture was simple, the walls were covered with banners and garlands of dried flowers and leaves. Many of the decorations looked as if they had been made with more excitement than skill – probably created in the joy of the moment when the war ended, then left there as happy mementos.
A fire blazed in the large fireplace by the back wall and candles were lit in the iron chandeliers, illuminating the scene with a warm glow. Several workers and off-duty guards and servants sat around a couple of the long tables, drinking and clapping. Two women sat cross-legged on one of the tables, one beating a wild rhythm on a drum and the other playing a flute.
If their red hair and the red color of their skin had not made it obvious enough, their elegant clothing and armor – though more stuffed than usual to keep them warm in this climate – was obviously of Gerudo tradition. Zelda recalled Impa mentioning the delegation from Nabooru.
A third Gerudo woman danced in the middle of the floor, a strip of nearly transparent cloth in each hand with which she painted graceful, sweeping arches as she leapt and twirled, kicking higher than seemed physically possible.
Zelda could instantly see that the traditional Gerudo dancing had changed through the years, but like so much else it had a painful familiarity to it. Part of her wished to leave for that reason, but another part soaked in the joyful atmosphere and held her there.
A fourth woman with the same red hair sat near the Hylians at the edge of one of the tables and simply watched. All of a sudden she glanced to the side and caught sight of Zelda. With a slanted, welcoming smile she waved at the hesitating woman by the door to come and join in.
For a moment Zelda stood where she was, uncertain if her strange presence would disturb the situation. Then again, they might not even recognize her, with her simple robe covering her dress. Also refusing an invitation – especially from a Gerudo – would be incredibly rude.
She swept her robe tighter around her to ensure she was inconspicuous and stepped inside. The woman who had waved to her reached for an empty cup and teapot as Zelda approached. Even several steps away, Zelda could smell the sweet, spicy aroma. Sitting down she accepted the cup with a low mumble of gratitude. Nobody seemed to notice her arrival, however, focused on the dancing.
"Your Hyrule nights are cold," the Gerudo woman said in a low voice. As if to underscore her statement she emptied her own steaming cup and refilled it immediately.
"Agreed…" Zelda murmured, stealing a closer look at the woman beside her.
She did not look so much like Nabooru that it hurt. The profile might be as sharp and the hair just as intensively red and tied up in a similar manner, but from there it all evened out in subtle dissimilarities.
The woman glanced at Zelda again.
"The desert nights were chilly, too," Zelda said without thinking, speaking too quickly just to avoid being caught looking.
An elegant red eyebrow went up, and the Gerudo studied Zelda's face for a second.
"Ah, the sleeper," she said. If she saw Zelda wince, she ignored it as she leaned forwards. "You were there, in our homeland, yes?"
Zelda sipped the tea. It burned her lips and tongue, but it helped her gather her thoughts.
"Yes," she said, steady as she could. "But I was disguised as a man— I mean, voe. I was not allowed into the fortress. Your people were very defensive."
The Gerudo let out a short laugh, then threw a look at her performing companions and schooled her mirth into a grin so that she would not disturb the show.
"Yes, yes, the Sheikah spy Princess. We know the stories too."
Zelda's shoulders dropped. Truly her entire life was an open book to everyone – all of her struggles, that ended with failure.
"You're not dancing?" she asked in a firm tone, hoping that the wish to change the subject would be picked up on and respected.
There was no response at first. Zelda sipped the tea again, looking towards the dancer without really seeing her.
After what seemed like an eternity, the Gerudo woman spoke again.
"No, they have the situation under control." She chuckled. "I could juggle with swords, but it tends to make Hylians nervous. Or perhaps a show of sparring, with a Sheikah?"
Zelda knew that was more of an offer than a joke, and she was relieved enough that the other subject had been abandoned that she could smile a little.
"Another time," she said, "though it might do me good. I'm out of practice."
"Of course, no wonder." The Gerudo smirked, but jocularly. "I am Qiral. I know who you are."
Bowing her head politely in response, Zelda managed to smile a bit.
The song ended and the musicians started arguing with the dancer on which number to follow up with. Qiral got up and joined them in the debate, and once it was settled she remained over there. Zelda did not mind.
Again the music started up, a gentler melody this time that called for a slower dance.
Zelda sat back and sipped the drink, enjoying the performance before her. By now, Link and the Queen must be speaking. Sitting there, though, in that warm, merry atmosphere, she could believe nothing except that things would turn out alright between them.
And the next morning the Queen formally announced the engagement.