Every Shard of My Heart Belongs to You: With Stitches of Tenderness
It had been late morning when Zelda was called to the council, and now it was late afternoon. She had not eaten all day, and though she had not much appetite, she felt weak from low blood sugar. She knew it was necessary to remain strong and to appear healthy and lively to the court. Thus she was accompanied by several guards and advisors to the dining hall. As they walked by her rose garden she stopped for a moment and looked up.
"What is that?"
"What is what, milady?" one of the advisors asked.
"I heard a peculiar sound."
They all looked at one another, shrugging sheepishly. "Of what nature, milady?"
It sounded like the cry of a dying man, though she did not say it lest they should think she was mad. "The call of a bird perhaps," was all the more she said of the matter. It was in fact Link's cry of anguish.
In the dining hall Zelda was seated at the head of the table. She felt a sense of unearthly nostalgia. It reminded her of when she was younger, about five or six years old. She was so small that her face barely met the table. Feeling concerned about this, she left her seat to find a much higher one. The court erupted in laughter at seeing the king return to his royal chair to find it occupied by the bouncing gold curls of the petite princess. King Harkinian could not help but laugh as well, and demanded that the poor child be given a cushion for her chair. It did not seem so monstrous in size now, but still too large. Her father was an amiable man, though not so close to her heart. She lamented that there was always a mutual distance between them that gradually grew into a great chasm. She frowned subconsciously.
Upon recovering from her somber reflection she found everyone looking at her, also frowning. She smiled nervously, and they all smiled in return. It was a game. Glancing around at all the smiling faces, she saw that there was one missing.
"Does anyone know why Sir Link is absent?"
The ladies and nobles looked at one another. They all knew Link. They couldn't understand how a young ranger of the forest became a knight of Hyrule, but they accepted it for what it was. He was well mannered, clean, and no other soldier had ever dared cross swords with him, save Iain, and even in his wounded state Link nearly bested him once or twice. Indeed, when he was only thirteen years old and five feet tall they respected his skilled hand and steady eye. Most importantly, however, his presence pleased their Princess, and they so greatly cherished her smile.
Yet there remained something curious about the princess's favorite. He was introverted and reclusive, found most often in his own company. He did not offer much conversation, and when he did speak it was only out of necessity. It was as if he was always aware, always preparing, meditating, contemplating. His ears heard all sound, and when he looked at you it was with perspicacious eyes that pierced the darkest corners of your mind and innermost chambers of your heart. This would have unnerved most, except for his disarming smile, which could calm a horde of irate deku scrubs with only a glance. His air, in turn, was stolid, composed, and silently commanding of veneration.
But alas, none knew where the elusive young knight was, and so they continued to drink their wine. When all the wine had been drunk and the meal consumed, Zelda excused herself. She went looking for Link.
He was not in his room, and he was not in the courtyard. He was not in the foyer, nor the south tower, nor the west or east towers. Dejected, she returned to her room. It had been cleaned since the morning's incidents. A hint of glittering gold caught her eye. It was the hilt of Link's sword peeking out from under her bed. It must have fallen there when he was knocked unconscious. She bent down and picked it up. It was heavier than it looked. She examined it closely, admiring the fine craftsmanship. It was a beautiful sword, though well worn. Now that the council had approved Link's appointment as the new Captain of the Royal Guard, it would be insisted that he be crafted a new one, but she knew he would not have it. This one had sentimental value. She placed it on her dresser and looked out the window. The sunlight waned.
She decided to take a walk before evening fell, hoping she might find Link. And almost as if he were calling to her, she heard faintly the sorrowful tune of his ocarina. She followed it through the rose garden and to the Royal Court. She had not expected to find him there of all places, but yes, there he was, still there in the balcony where she had left him.
He did not hear her footsteps until alas they walked upon the wooden platform that held the three podiums of justice. He removed the ocarina from his mouth and peered curiously over the balcony. It was Zelda, climbing the tallest podium in her gown and glass heels, which tottered and scraped against its furnished surface as she reached for the roof of the overhang. The brave little woman!
"Zelda!" he gasped, taking her wrist and pulling her over the banister. She laughed as they collapsed onto the floor.
"There are less dangerous means of getting up here, Zelda, such as the stairwell, or even a ladder, compared to this."
"Hm," she giggled, lifting her head from his chest, "but not half so exciting."
"You might have been hurt," he chided.
"Nonsense! An angel has my every tread." She looked deeply into his eyes. "And he is rather handsome," she whispered, smoothing his tousled hair.
He did not smile, but only returned her tender gaze.
"Why are you still here?" she inquired. "We missed you this evening. It is unlike you to miss a meal."
He did not answer. He shifted uncomfortably beneath her. "Zelda, this is unseemly."
She pouted in feigned disappointment as she picked herself up, releasing him from the floor. She smoothed the wrinkles from her dress.
"I'm sorry, Zelda, but what if we were seen? I would not want to impress one of your subjects with a false idea of their princess."
"Perhaps it would not be false," she teased.
"Zelda, I..." He did not intend to be so disaffectionate towards her. It was his bitterness that restrained him from expressing himself. He looked from his boots to the setting sun and once more to his boots. She saw the familiar uneasiness about him.
"Don't let it worry you." Zelda retrieved his hand, beckoning him to follow. "Come on, let's watch the sunset." He silently complied.
They approached the familiar foyer and followed along its plush carpet through one of its many diverging hallways. At the end of the hall was a set of stairs. Zelda glanced back at Link as they began to ascend once more.
"Just a bit farther," she promised.
Link could not help but notice the uncanny resemblance between the stair he was currently traveling and the foreboding climb to Ganon's lair. He prepared himself to walk more than "a bit farther" in case that they were in fact the same. Each great stone step clothed in a scarlet rug looked in too much likeness of the one previous step so that they seemed to slur together like waves of the ocean seen from far away. Before Link could discern one step from another, he found that there were none left. He stood next to Zelda on the highest balcony of Hyrule Castle. The sight left him breathless.
The sky was a velvet canopy above them, falling in folds of rose and violet, lined with golden lace.
Zelda's hair wavered in the slight breeze as she looked toward the sun. "It is so surreal, Link. I feel as though I shall wake up tomorrow and I shall hear Iain's voice. I will see my father sitting at the head of the table. I cannot... see it as real... I wasn't... prepared for this." She did not cry, but smiled bitterly and bit her lower lip.
"Aye, it's a harsh truth that doesn't seem quite real, but it feels painfully real when I think about how I am to blame."
"Link, that is so utterly false! How can you even think that?"
"It's true, Zelda! I could not defeat them when they assailed me the night I was to leave for Hyrule. It led them here—to you—to King Harkinian—to Iain. I have failed you."
"No, that's not true at all. Both of us are standing here still. Can't you see? You have not failed me."
"Though you live, my dear Princess, it seems your heart is broken. It is your heart that I have failed." He bowed his head in contrition.
She could not deny that her heart was broken. Although there was no romance between her and Iain they nevertheless shared a significant bond. They were almost like siblings. He was born nobility, the son of the former captain of the Hylian Guard, and at sixteen he was appointed as her personal guard. His company was forced, but his friendship he gave freely. He had cared for her as a brother, and loved her as a friend. And even the loss of her father, though their relationship was nigh estranged, pained her. He was an affable and generous king, and that his life should be taken so mercilessly rendered the deed all the more malevolent. She could not bearably lift the weighty injustice of their deaths. Aye, indeed her heart was shattered.
She spoke softly. "My brave knight, don't cast down your face in despair."
"It is with shame I am downcast. It haunts me."
"Shame?" her voice echoed, disgusted. "Look up. Look all around you. Look at the forest, the field, the mountain, the desert, the great lake."
Links eyes wandered over the horizon at distant green of the Kokori Forest, the noble peak of Death Mountain, the vast field stretching out into the desert in one direction and to the sea in the other. "Now, look at me." His eyes settled on the young woman next to him.
Zelda continued, "Would you refuse all of this for the sake of complacency?"
Link said nothing.
The princess was growing frustrated. "Life holds a ubiquitous shame, Link. There are some forces against which we are all powerless, so there is nothing in your guilt that isolates you." Her tone softened. "It is only in your courage that you rightfully distinguished."
"But you, Zelda—" She put her finger to his lips to silence him.
"My heart is mine own to defend, but if wish for some trial to redeem yourself, I will give it you." She took his hands in hers and held them delicately between her fingers. "If you wish to mend it of your own devices, then it is yours." His eyes looked at her inquisitively. "Every shard of my heart belongs to you."