Warnings: Disturbing Material, SLIGHT Spoilers for Skyward Sword
Zelda wasn't the same. She couldn't explain it, at least with clarity, but she knew she was different somehow—ever since the mysterious woman had touched her. Takoume. Her name was Takoume. That was the odd thing about it-Zelda simply knew things about her captor after their contact. She knew her name was Takoume and that she was some kind of sorceress and that she was obsessive over and absolutely desperate for something…but Zelda wasn't sure what it was. That was the only fact she had obtained about the woman that wasn't entirely coherent. Zelda identified that she herself must be associated with whatever Takoume wanted in some way, but she wasn't certain how. Did Takoume lust for her throne? For her magical powers? Surely not that, Takoume seemed even more powerful than before ever since her interaction with Zelda. The reality that Zelda could not solve the riddle of her captor frustrated her immensely.
Zelda had been lying, alone with her thoughts, upon the very stone table she had initially awoken upon, when a Gerudo entered her quarters. With a grunt, the guard tossed a dish of unidentifiable material to the floor and exited again. Zelda sighed with disgust, getting up to inspect her meal. Though it was an insult to her dignity, Zelda made an effort to eat whatever was offered to her, entirely for the sake of her baby. With a hand on her stomach, Zelda returned to her makeshift bed with the dish. As she was about to ingest her meal, Takoume flung open the door, causing Zelda to jump and nearly drop the dish. "Evening, Princess," she greeted briefly, the majority of her face well-concealed as always, "I trust you are well."
"Evening, Takoume," Zelda replied icily, interested to see the sorceress' reaction to her name. Zelda had not seen the woman since that last, most painful meeting.
Takoume laughed heartily, "How intriguing! It seems I was unable to hide all of my secrets after all! How very peculiar!"
Zelda ignored the meaningless babbling, "What brings you to my quarters?"
"Oh, I only need to know a little something more, is all," Takoume's eyes danced. Zelda found herself inching back against the wall subconsciously.
Takoume snapped her fingers, and the door swung shut once more. "Hopefully, The Exchange will not be as revealing as before," Takoume muttered, approaching the princess, "Tell me, your highness, what else do you know about me?"
Hoping to perhaps trick the sorceress into divulging more information, Zelda said loftily, "Only that you're a sorceress, that you're wicked, and that you're after my throne."
Takoume cackled with mirth, "Oh, presumptuous are we? I see that The Exchange was much less beneficial to you than to me. Either that or you're bluffing. I care not for your silly throne. It will mean nothing once my plans are complete."
"Then I suppose I must be of use to you because you crave my knowledge?" Zelda hypothesized.
"Wrong again, princess. I'm certain I know infinitely more than yourself in every area except perhaps something trivial like your castle etiquette," Takoume snapped once again, and Zelda realized with horror that she could not move from her current position, frozen in place as she sat atop the table.
Zelda struggled uselessly, fear overcoming her as Takoume drew near. "No, stop! No more!" Zelda implored.
"Hush, silly girl," a fire lit within Takoume's eyes and the cold hands of the witch clasped the princess' face once more.
Zelda's mouth opened with a silent scream of agony, her eyes clenching shut as she felt as if the very life were being sucked from her. Her heart beat at an irregular, rapid pace, her body shook uncontrollably, and she felt as if her entire being was melting, burning up within the flare of a colossal fire. The heat—the anguish was unbearable. She felt as if each of her limbs were being twisted in unnatural ways, each of her muscles snapping from their tendons, each of her bones breaking. "Please!" Zelda moved her lips, but no sound escaped. She could almost feel the pain of her baby as well—she knew the infant was not unaffected.
At long last, Takoume released her victim, Zelda falling to the stone and breaking out into irrepressible weeping, clutching her stomach and head as she still shivered in the aftermath of the event. Takoume pressed her fingers to her temples, her eyes shut. "It's clearer to me now," she finally spoke beneath her breath.
She approached the door, nodding back to the wailing princess, "Thank you very much, your highness."
As the door shut, Zelda struggled to catch her breath, still bawling. Such pain! She had never known any feeling like it before. She found little comfort in knowing she was alone once more. Would Takoume return? Would it be even worse than before?
Tears still pouring from her bright eyes, Zelda rolled onto her back, staring at the ceiling as her cries hiccupped together. Her head ached so dreadfully! And her thoughts were all jumbled together-as if Takoume had been sifting through them. The more Zelda pondered it, the more suspicious she became of that alternative. If the horrific process was called The Exchange, perhaps that was what Takoume was doing. Stealing information from Zelda yet unable to prevent a few of her own mysteries from being exposed to the princess in return—a fair trade, a fair exchange. Though Zelda expected Takoume must have done something that allowed as little information as possible to be returned to Zelda, considering her surprise at Zelda's new knowledge earlier.
With a few apprehensive sighs, Zelda was finally able to calm herself enough to cease her tears. She shut her eyes with exhaustion, her head still spinning. She rubbed her stomach in an effort to soothe her distraught child, trying to clear her thoughts in the process.
With a jolt, Zelda shot upright suddenly, cringing with pain at her actions. But she couldn't help herself—she had recognized what new information she had acquired! Her location. "Oh, please help Link to find me soon," Zelda whispered to no one in particular, hugging her stomach and marveling at where she was.
"Link!" Thorolf jumped down from his steed, rushing over to Epona. He had witnessed Link cry out suddenly, as if he was in pain, and promptly plummet to the ground. "Master Link! Master Link, are you alright? What happened?"
Link blinked slowly, taking in the sight of the general hunched over him. "She—I think I know where she is!" Link explained with enthusiasm.
"Who?" Thorolf asked, bewildered.
"The Princess Zelda!" Link sprung to his feet, swiftly remounting Epona, "She's past the Kokiri Forest—much deeper into the Faron Woods! She's at-yes, she's at the Sealed Temple! Beneath it! Beneath the former Temple of Hylia!"
"Master Link!" Thorolf strode to Epona's side, grabbing at the hero's sleeve, "Not to be, uh, rude, sir, but how are you so sure of this so suddenly?"
"I can't explain it!" Link looked past Thorolf, a look of awe coloring his gaze, "I just suddenly…felt it. I heard Zelda's voice in my head, and she told me where she was."
Several of the soldiers had stopped, gathering around the general and the hero. Many of them exchanged skeptical looks as Link spoke. "So you've had a vision then?" Thorolf tried.
"No, I saw nothing! I merely heard her—she spoke to me, Thorolf!" Link persisted.
Thorolf exhaled, "Link, perhaps you could use a drink. It's been a while since-"
"Thorolf," Link gripped the general's arm firmly, staring intently into his eyes, "I know this doesn't make any sense, but I am sure of it. I know that that is where Zelda is being kept, I know it. And for now, you are all subject to my leadership. I know it's bizarre, but you must trust me. I won't lead you all astray, I promise."
Thorolf met Link's eyes, mulling over the situation. Eventually, he sighed once more, "You are in charge, Master Link. Gentlemen, we ride to the Sealed Grounds!"
Zelda stood in silence, her head bowed, wishing that something—anything—would end the misery she was currently enduring. Man after woman after man after woman in black garments giving her their grievances, typically in manners that she could barely understand. All the blubbering and solemnity only depressed her further as she stood beside Impa, just past the two closed caskets. She fiddled with her black gown, the fabric scratching at her skin. She'd already cried her heart out-for days actually, and at the moment, selfish as the thought was, she just wanted to forget her pain. Even for a brief moment, she craved a temporary distraction from her recent misfortunes, a thin thread of joy to be woven into her now dreary life, but she doubted she'd have any luck with the way the funeral had occurred.
The guest list had been immense, considering the still developing country had lost, not one, but two great monarchs in one day. Being their only living blood relation, it was naturally expected that Zelda would attend their funeral, no matter how despondent the poor girl felt. No matter how deeply she longed to escape the meaningless "I'm sorry"s and the constant reminder that she was now an orphan—with no family and no friends.
"Hello." The word was nervous, and perhaps the first statement Zelda had heard all day that didn't begin with either "You poor thing!" or "My dear, I am so terribly sorry." Zelda raised her head to see her rescuer, shifting his weight from foot to foot awkwardly as he stood before her in a black shirt that was much too big for him and most likely not his own.
Impa gave Zelda a look, and Zelda sighed, reciting the words Impa had ensured she could say in her sleep, "Forgive me for my actions last week. I was under great emotional stress at the time, and it was not right for me to lash out at you in the manner that I did. I owe you my life and my thanks."
The boy gave an awkward half-grin, not daring a smile under the current circumstances but visibly relaxing, "You owe me nothing, Princess, thank you."
Zelda nodded tersely, unsure of what she could say to the boy who, from her perspective at least, could have possibly prevented her despair. "I came to say that—I'm really, really sorry about what happened," he murmured, his voice growing soft as he cast his gaze upon his shoes, "It-you were right, it's my fault, and I wish I could've saved them, really I do. I'm…sorry."
Zelda bit her lip, able to hold her resolve before all the other guests yet feeling it crumble in the presence of the boy. "I wish you could've too," she managed, her voice quivering and her eyes growing wet.
Impa shot her a stern look of disapproval as the boy trudged away, his head hung low with the weight of his shame. "That was no way to respond to him, your highness," Impa whispered, "You should be grateful to him for his selflessness; the boy could only do so much."
Zelda refused to meet the eyes of her nursemaid. Impa sighed, "You owe him a genuine apology, but I won't force you. I want you to say it and actually mean every word, but he doesn't deserve the regret and the shame that you're inflicting upon him."
Zelda suddenly was struck with a moment of cleverness, already feeling guilty about what she was about to do. "Impa, may I go apologize to him then?" Zelda hoped her authentic sorrow would mask her deceit, "I feel bad, truly I do."
Impa exhaled, examining the long line of guests yet to speak with them. "I suppose you may, but be quick about it," Impa murmured.
Zelda darted away instantly with no intentions of returning to the horrid ceremony. She briskly walked through the large doors of the cathedral, hoping to maybe lock herself in her room or—oomph!
Dust clouded around the princess as Zelda collapsed to the ground, grunting with pain at the force of her fall. Her dress was unquestionably ruined. There was a gasp, and Zelda became aware of hands hurriedly helping her back to her feet. "Oh goddesses, I'm so, so sorry!"
The same voice from before. Zelda reluctantly met the frantic blue eyes of her hero, who now looked even more apprehensive than before as he clumsily wiped some of the dust from the princess' dress. "Are you alright? I can't believe I did that; I'm so very sorry! It was an accident, I swear!" the anxious boy babbled mindlessly.
"It was my fault, really," Zelda replied honestly, desperate to be rid of the chatter.
"What's wrong?" a third voice sounded suddenly, and Zelda looked past the boy to see a young girl about her age with long brunette locks, and matching brown eyes, wide with curiosity.
"It's really alright," Zelda said hurriedly, frantic to evade any further attention and make her escape, "Please don't worry over it, um…what is your name?"
"L-Link," the boy stammered, hardly calmed by the princess' words.
"Who's this, Link?" the girl asked, standing beside him and examining Zelda with interest. Zelda squirmed under the attention.
"This…this is her royal highness, Princess Zelda," Link replied, still appearing to be greatly upset by all that had happened.
The girl gasped and instantly stooped into a deep curtsy, lifting her simplistic, peasant skirts as if they were wings, "Your highness, it is an honor to meet you. You have my family's deepest condolences."
Zelda nodded hurriedly, itching to get away. Only to be civil, Zelda offered pithily, "Thank you, and what is your name?"
The girl nudged Link, obviously expecting him to give a better introduction. "This is my good friend, Patia," Link explained, "We've grown up together in the same village in the country."
"My mama's always joking that Link and I are gonna get married one day," Patia elaborated, grinning widely, "But there's no chance of that; Link's like my brother."
"That is…delightful," Zelda stuttered, unused to such friendliness with peasants and not quite prepared to be reminded of the happiness of others, "but I'm afraid I must be off; I have important matters to attend to."
"Oh, we understand completely, don't we, Link?" Patia elbowed the boy once more, but he stood unresponsive to her touch, staring helplessly after the departing princess, "May the goddesses bless you, your grace."
Patia dropped into another respectful curtsy, but Link rushed after Zelda just as she had turned her back. "Princess, please," he beseeched in a hoarse whisper, "I cannot—please say what I must do to earn your respect. I cannot live under your hatred for me; it is unbearable."
Feeling herself draw close to tears once more, Zelda choked out, "There is n-nothing you can do; it cannot be changed. Please leave me be! I only want to be rid of this atrocious ceremony and forget that it all happened!"
"I don't mean to pry, but what if you came back to the country with me and Link?" Patia inserted from behind the two, an indisputable desire to be helpful spread across her face, "I was just thinking—it's awful peaceful out there, and we don't live far away. We're just out in Hyrule Field, and you could play with us a bit and not have to be around all these gloomy mourners."
Link sent Patia an incredulous look, but Zelda actually, in spite of herself, found herself considering the offer. In the country, she would, in fact, be rid of consistent reminders of her loss, at least for a short while. And she did have no friends to play with. Not that the idea of befriending the boy who had allowed her parents to perish sounded tempting, but nonetheless, it was something. "I-I might consider it," Zelda faltered, suddenly shy as she spoke.
"Oh, you'd love it out there!" Patia prattled, excited at the prospect of being useful, "I don't like being sad all the time either, and there's no better way to forget than to escape your sorrows for a bit. Link and I will show you how to have some fun!"
Link intervened rapidly, "Patia, I'm not sure if the princess needs to-"
"No," Zelda interjected, eying the two children seriously, "I'd like to go."
Patia donned an expression of pure elation and bubbling anticipation, while Link looked more akin to a deer surrounded during a hunt.
Patia ensured that there was not a single moment of silence as the three rode into the country, Zelda sitting behind the peasant girl as Link rode alongside them. In a way that differed vastly from his lively friend, Link was completely silent save for an occasional clicking of his tongue to his young colt. Patia seemed to note his behavior as well. "Link!" she chided cheerfully, "Stop sulking so! You're putting a damper on the mood, and the princess doesn't need any more moping right now!"
"Please," Zelda murmured, "Call me Zelda."
"Very well," Patia tugged at the small horse's reigns, and Zelda gasped as she took in the sight of the countryside she had just entered. Small hilltops covered with sparse forests of trees met her eyes, tiny ponds with crystal-clear water dotting the rich soil about them.
"It's so lovely," Zelda breathed.
Patia glanced over her shoulder, shooting the princess a smile, "It's home, Princess."
"Do you like it?" Link asked suddenly, surprising both Patia and Zelda.
"Yes," Zelda's voice still quavered with awe, "It's—so different from the castle."
"And," Patia added, allowing her horse to trot towards a small village spread throughout the hills, "It's the perfect place for playing hide-n-seek."
"Hide-n-seek?" Zelda queried, raising an eyebrow.
"Yes, you know, the game?" Patia prompted.
Zelda cast Link a look of puzzlement, causing Link to clear his throat, "Erm, Patia, I'm sure the princesses prefer games of a more…regal nature than—"
"No, it's not that," Zelda interrupted, "It's just…what is this 'hide-n-seek?'"
"Oh, don't tell me you've never heard of it!" Patia exclaimed, glimpsing back at Zelda with astonishment, "Good gracious, your highness-er, I mean, Zelda! Whatever do you do for fun in that enormous castle?"
"I often read," Zelda offered, blushing with embarrassment.
"Oh, well hide-n-seek is much more fun than reading, I can assure you!" Patia jerked back the reigns, dismounting her horse and tying it to a post. Zelda observed that they had stopped in front of a small, simple cottage-presumably Patia's home.
Zelda leapt down as well. "I'd introduce you to my folks, but we'd better start the game while we have the daylight for it," Patia explained. She turned to the ever silent boy, "Link! Hurry it up, would ya? Go tie Epona so you can play the game!"
Link stuck out his tongue in protest but sped away with his horse all the same. "He doesn't like it when I boss him, but he needs someone telling him what to do—he's such a daydreamer!" Patia rolled her eyes with fond distaste.
Link came running back to the girls quickly, Patia smiling with approval, "Now then, the rules of the game are simple. All you have to do, Zelda, is hide from Link."
"Wait," Link interjected, frowning, "Why me? We didn't decide who the seeker was going to be yet."
"You're the seeker, Link," Patia elaborated matter-of-factly, "I want it to be a good first game for Zelda, and if you were hiding, it'd be over too fast." Patia turned to Zelda, clarifying, "He's just plain awful at hiding-you can see him from a mile away!"
Zelda, to her surprise, found herself giggling as Link huffed out, "That is not true! Patia, stop picking on me!"
"I'm not picking on you; I'm being logical," Patia corrected, continuing with her explanation of the rules, "The only rules are that you can't leave the village, you can't go into water to hide, and you can't use any kind of animal to your advantage-such as hiding on a horse that so happens to gallop away when the seeker nears. The first person that Link, the seeker, finds is to be the next seeker. So pick the best place you can—somewhere Link would never look!"
"That does sound rather fun," Zelda confessed quietly.
"I knew you'd like it!" Patia grinned, undeniably proud of herself, "Start counting, Link! He has to count to thirty, you see Zelda, so that we have time to find a hiding spot. So start now, Link!"
Link rolled his eyes and begrudgingly turned around, beginning to count. Within the instant, Patia had hiked up her skirts and begun running off in the direction of a barn. Zelda suddenly felt her heart quicken, a flutter of panic at finding a hiding spot in a place that was entirely new to her. Deciding that thinking would do little to benefit her, Zelda, too, picked up her skirts and dashed off in the direction of a clump of trees.
Panting with excitement, Zelda weaved her way through the trees, bark brushing against her black gown and pale skin. With a scream of surprise, Zelda tripped over a root, tumbling to the ground. Her eyes widened as she lifted the hem of her dress, a huge tear now adorning the rich fabric. Astounding herself, the princess burst out laughing at her own clumsiness, whereas her typical reaction might be to mourn her misfortune. But she had had enough glumness, as Patia had said, and was currently playing a rather invigorating game. It was the first time in a long time that Zelda had felt so—free. Perhaps even…happy?
Becoming aware that she had yet to find a hiding place, Zelda stumbled to her feet, emerging from the small forest. Her eyes locked upon a hill up ahead, a lone tree sprouting from the center of it. Zelda smiled, pleased with her finding, and made her way up the hill, awkwardly clambering up the tree. Honestly, Zelda had never climbed a tree before, and she tried to savor the experience as she slowly climbed from branch to branch, imagining that she probably appeared quite absurd doing so. At long last, she reached a branch that was well concealed by leaves. And there she waited.
Zelda waited and waited and waited. She watched with stolen breath as the sun dipped lower and lower behind the dappled hills in a rainbow sky of red, orange, and violet. After a while, Zelda began to wonder just how terrible Link truly was at this game…
Just as she was meditating such things, she heard a rustling of leaves and caught sight of Link bursting out of the forest, sweat decorating his features as he panted. He cupped his hands together and put them to his lips, "Zelda! Where are you?"
Zelda bit her lip, baffled by his actions. Wasn't that cheating?...perhaps it was a trick! Zelda remained silent as Link approached the tree, leaning up against it tiredly. Zelda could barely contain her snickers at how oblivious Link was to her—she was actually fairly decent at this game! "Where on earth could she be?" Link mumbled to himself, sinking to the ground sorrowfully, "This is all my fault…again."
Unable to bear such torture, Zelda plucked an acorn from the tree, allowing it to plunk off of Link's head. Link flinched, rubbing at his head with a soft exclamation of pain as Zelda leapt from her branch, landing on her feet right beside the boy. Link's eyes widened at the sight of her. "Well, I must agree with Patia, I'm afraid," Zelda joked, "You're really horrible at this game."
Link's arms were around Zelda before she could complete her sentence. "Thank the goddesses you're alright!" he said in a trembling voice, almost as if he was fighting back tears.
Zelda shoved him away, feeling uncomfortable with receiving such gestures, "Well, of course I am! Did you expect me to wound myself during the game?"
"Patia and I have been looking everywhere for you!" Link exclaimed, his voice taut with anxiety and his eyes slightly angry, "We assumed the worst—and you're the princess! Of all people for us to lose!"
"But-" Zelda spoke in a small voice, "I thought…you were supposed to look for me?"
Link sighed, his expression softening, "Technically, outside this forest is not a part of the village. We hadn't expected you to come this way."
Zelda's expression fell, feeling guilty and annoyed with herself. Her first time playing a game with her first friends and she had broken one of the only rules! "Hey, are you alright?" Link questioned.
Zelda's teeth sank into her lip, bobbing her head quickly. Link grasped his mistake, and Zelda was swooped into another hug before she could resist. "Oh, princess, I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to yell—or to hurt your feelings! Oh goddesses, I always mess up! I'm so, so sorry, princess! I'm sorry I got mad and I'm sorry I never say the right things and I'm sorry I couldn't save your parents! I'll never forget, princess, I'll regret it forever. I'm so…stupid and incompetent and such a-a failure at everything!"
Zelda found herself crying against her will. What a day it'd been! She allowed all of her own sorrows to resurface as she silently cried into Link's shoulder, her tears leaking through cloth. And for the first time, amidst all her woes, a twinge of sympathy also emerged. "No," she whispered firmly to him, "You're not a failure; you…you saved my life. I don't want you to feel bad. I don't. I-I forgive you."
"No, please, I don't deserve it!" Link objected, and Zelda thought that he must be crying as well, feeling something wet drip onto her back.
"Yes, you do," Zelda insisted, "You're my friend now. And I forgive you."
Link slumped into the princess suddenly, his knees giving out, and both children collapsed to the ground, clinging to each other as they cried. "I forgive you. I forgive you," Zelda repeated over and over again to her hero, the words feeling magnificent to say. It was as if a great burden had been lifted from her shoulders.
Finally, with one last squeeze of his arms around Zelda, Link drew back, sniffling and smearing his hands across his face, "Th-thank you. Thank you so much, y-your highness." He cleared his throat and resumed in a more consistent tone, "I guess we should be getting back—Patia's really scary when she gets hysterical over something, and I bet she's worried about us. And—" Link's mouth dropped suddenly as he gazed at Zelda, "And you! You're the princess! Oh, goddesses! I bet they're preparing an army to look for you at the castle! Goddesses, princess, let's go!"
Zelda couldn't defy her smile at his nervousness. She stood, bashfully accepting his hand as he began to hurry back to the forest, "Don't worry over me; I'll be fine!"
Link appeared to be wholly unconvinced, and he yelped, startled, as Zelda suddenly stopped where she was, yanking him back as well. "I promise," she assured him with an authentic grin, "And please. My name is Zelda."
As Link timidly returned her smile, Zelda felt emotion wash over her being. And for one day of her life, just one day, she was actually, truly, in love with Link.
Grr, late again! I'm gonna have to step it up a notch in the future. Hope you're still enjoying the story; I'm actually really getting into it myself. Happy reading and see you all next Saturday!