I have to apologize for this one on a number of levels. For one, it's late- I really did mean to update once a night, but this particular moment defeated me on that. I spent two days running trying to get it right.
The second thing that I have to apologize for is that I am dismally sure that I failed. I knew when I was writing it that the moment had to be there, but I feel like I forced it- wrote it for plot reasons rather than because it felt write. Consequentially I am not very pleased with it. I am sorry. Hopefully the next one will be better; if I could have written that one without first writing this, I would have.
Anyways. Tell me what you think.
Moments: Rendezvous
"No," said Renado, lighting tapers in the sanctuary at Kakariko. He carefully set down his burning splint and looked Link in the eye. "No, I haven't seen the creature you're looking for. That doesn't mean it- she- isn't here- life is beginning to return to Kakariko. I've been busy these past few weeks. But had I seen her, I would remember- and I would let you know."
"Thank you," said Link, absently, already planning his next route. If Renado couldn't help him, who then could he turn to? Ralis, he decided. If one of his people had seen Midna, the Zora prince would know about it. He would stop in the hotel and change into the armored tunic that Rutella had given him. He would make his way to the prince's side and remind him that he ruled at Link's pleasure.
"Link," Renado said, not breaking his gaze. "be careful. You're meddling with the spirit realms and that has consequences. Heed an old shaman. Don't search too hard. You might actually find what you're looking for."
Link stood quietly in the fragmentary light of the sanctuary, remembering. Finally he half-smiled and walked over to the door.
"You were standing- there," he said, over his shoulder, "And Barnes was over there, by the window. He was talking about the monsters that killed the townsfolk. He said that the sanctuary wouldn't protect you if they decided to attack. Beth started crying and Barnes looked guilty. Colin tried to calm her down, to comfort her. He said-"
Renado closed his eyes.
"-he said that Link was coming to save you."
"Link," began the shaman, but Link cut him off.
"You've been a friend to me, Renado. Thank you."
The door opened, closed. When Renado opened his eyes again he was alone in the room.
"I'm not sure I understand," said Ralis. "You're not going to kill her?"
"No," said Link, levelly. "I'm not."
Ralis's glare was a hard green shine in the dappled light of Zora's Domain. "Shadow creatures executed my mother and dammed the very headwaters of Zora's River. The resulting drought had profound repercussions throughout Hyrule. This is to say nothing of what they did to my people. I don't know where she is and if I did I wouldn't tell you."
This had been a bad idea. It was becoming more obvious with every passing moment that Link was losing face with the Zora merely by asking the favor, and while the Zora had never been his most reliable allies he had few enough that fell into that category to risk alienating even one of them.
Nevertheless, it was not in his nature to concede the point.
"I saved your life," said Link, "and I'm scratching my head as to why I would do that if I didn't have your best interests at heart. The Twili I'm following was neither a part of nor a supporter of the invasion. In fact, she saved my life before we ever met, as I saved yours. I think I've earned your trust, Ralis. Give me what I need."
"What's a Twili?" snapped Ralis petulantly. "If that's what you call the shadow monsters then I see no reason to help you help one of them. What you don't seem to understand is that we are at war, Link, whether they're here to fight it or not. You're either with us or you're with them, against us."
"Don't ask me to make that decision, Ralis."
"Well, why shouldn't I?"
Link lost all patience.
"Because, my prince," he growled, "I'll not stand by those too proud to stand by me." He drew his sword.
Behind him, Zoras stampeded away from the throne room and Ralis' bodyguards fought their way through the tumult, shoving and elbowing to their prince's side. Ralis' eyes were wide and bulging with disbelief. Link, in the eye of the hurricane, had serenity enough to disregard the chaos erupting around him.
"When Zora remembers who his friends are," he said formally, "He will know where I can be found. You're losing the war."
Link turned and executed a perfect dive into the central pool, letting the current catch him and pull him down towards the waterfall. Ralis would come to his senses. Or he wouldn't. Either way it was best to take his leave, now, before the prince had time to make any fatal mistakes. Ralis hadn't known anything anyways.
The Twili, thought Link, were made for democracy. He had never been able to tell them apart.
A sea of uniform patterns, glowing eyes set in featureless faces, and the unique coloration that so resembled a barrister's robe- they were the perfect mob, the ideal rabble. Link had never had much patience for consensus, himself. He felt that he was wasting his time.
All the same, he smiled his golden smile and addressed the Council.
"Midna has gone missing," he said conversationally, "more than a week ago. I want to find her and I think you might perhaps be willing to help me. You owe me a favor, after all. Help me find her and it's square between us; I'll go my way and trouble you no more."
Silence is never so oppressive as when there are many mouths available to speak. Every mute element of a greater whole is like another fisherman's weight balanced perfectly on your shoulders, the burden compounding momentarily until-
"Help me find her," said Link, "And I'll owe you a favor, how's that? One boon, payable by me to you at a time and date of your choosing, and I just know you can find somewhere to fit me in. I know you still have interests in the sunlit world. One favor. My considerable skills at your disposal." Silence.
"Help me find her," said Link "And I will serve Twilight for a period of one year as your agent in the waking world. I have no agenda beyond locating Midna and I couldn't care less what your agenda is if you'll help me accomplish that goal. You know that Zelda isn't equipped to deal with me."
"Three years," he said, a moment later. "Seven years."
"Please," said Link, "I love her."
Silence. His visage darkened.
"Help me find her," he said after a moment, "because if you don't and I find out later that you knew where she was, it will be war between us for ever and aye until either I am dead or the Council at Twilight has fallen. Help me find her because you don't dare not to. Help me find her because you're afraid of what I can do and we both know it and without her I have no reason to go on outside of revenge. All right? Help me find her because if you don't-"
A clotted sigh, rattling and phlegmy in the echoing vastness of the council chambers. "Why did we know it would come down to threats?" said the Twili at the forefront of the council, and for a moment Link thought he spoke in the high sweet tonalities of the usurper king.
"I- did not mean to offend the council," said Link grudgingly, as if each word were being dredged up from the murky seabed of his being- but Midna was more important than his pride. "I-"
The Twili sighed again. The hairs stood up on Link's neck. "I am Dusm, the Voice of the Council," it said. "And I do not know where Midna- I do not use her title because Twilight no longer recognizes the validity of the Royal Family- may be, or what she may be doing. I would know these things if she had remained in Twilight. She did not. Consequentially your presence here is both unnecessary and unwelcome, as is your use of the Mirror, an artifact belonging to the people. We permit your presence here because of your role in certain services rendered to Twilight-"
"You permit my presence because only the rightful queen can destroy the Mirror, and I didn't kill Zant on your behalf."
Dusm went on, heedless. "-but we will not tolerate your meddling in the affairs of the people. The next time you come before this Council to negotiate with your sword in your hand we will not wait for you to begin the war."
"Then come," Link wanted to say but did not say, "when you think you're ready. I'll be waiting." Instead, he turned and left without so much as another word.
It was rude of him, but he wasn't burning any bridges. That had always been Midna's job. Somehow, without her, he didn't have the heart.
He flung himself around the canyon dogleg on the back of a boar, urging his steed on with great blows to the haunches. But he knew that the animal was reaching the last of his formidable endurance. He had been outmaneuvered, cut off. Again. This time he would not leave the canyon. Behind him he heard the low susurrus of air that meant he was going to die.
Link came charging down the gully on horseback, swinging his ball and chain above him as he rode, and as it dawned on the bokoblin what his brother and his nemesis was going to do with it he felt a wave of terror overwhelm the stout fortifications of his heart. With a low cry he was going faster, faster, faster through the canyon, the stone walls blurring into a streak of red, running his boar so hard its porcine heart might explode in its breast from the exertion- he had seen it happen before, once, a long time ago.
Link drew level with him and the first thought that he had was that Link was looking good, better than he had looked since their first battle. His second thought was that Link's stance in the saddle was all wrong- too loose, without the rigidity that made mounted combat feasible. His third thought, as Link caught the ball in his arms and stood easily up in the stirrups, was to congratulate himself- after twenty-odd years at arms, the world still had the capacity to surprise him.
Link, left foot steady in the stirrup, caught his right boot against the saddle and flung himself gracelessly through the air. When he struck the bokoblin the impact nearly broke his collarbone and his great swinging weight was torn from his army by the relentless shove of inertia. It was enough. He felt gravity catch up with a sickening lurch as his enemy fell, arms wheeling, from the saddle, heard the clamor of crude iron armor against the stony ground.
The bokoblin's mailed hand shot to the hilt of his cleaver, but Link was there, driving his boot into the green flesh of his wrist. He heard a snap and saw his opponent's face slacken in pain. He brought the tip of his sword to the leathery flesh of the warlord's neck.
"I don't have to kill you," said Link, "although the goddesses know I should. You're the only one that ever came close. But I'll let you live today, if you tell me what I want to know."
The bokoblin's face contorted in dumb fury as the sound of hoofbeats died away down the ravine. "I don't know Twilight-"
The sword withdrew and jabbed him viciously above the heart. "Don't you dare waste my time- you were taking your orders from Zant during the invasion and we both know it. Where is she? I swear to god I'll cut your filthy throat-"
He had had enough. With a titanic effort he raised his cumbersome head and looked Link in the eye. "Stage," he said rapidly. "Old stage, stone pillars, near Castle Town- statue, old statue, on a high place. Ancient place. She killed two of my boys there, tore them apart and the rest went running. Two days ago. Don't know if she's still there and that's all that I know, now let me up."
A lessening of weight, the removal of a sword. The bokoblin sat up, ground his pudgy hand against his broken wrist, glared in anger. "Would've told you."
"You ran."
"Could've caught me."
Curiosity overcame Link and he looked back at his enemy, fat and dangerous on the ground. "What was your name?" he asked. "I never knew."
"Because I never tell you."
Link narrowed his eyes, turned to leave.
The warlord felt anguish like a fist to the belly. Link had four times bested him in battle. "I fight for the strongest," he had told him, and he had not lied then.
He would not lie now. "Link," he called.
Link did not turn around. "What is it?"
"You hurry."
"Why?"
"Because you found me second."
Link stood there for the length of a heartbeat as the bokoblin's meaning stole over him.
Then he was running.