A Note To New Readers:
Hey there! This story is currently undergoing some maintenance at the moment, and as such, what you have read up until this point may clash, be out of place or jump ahead/behind the chapters that follow. Please know that I am writing as fast as I can to rerelease these new chapters and believe me when I say that the story will be more concise and flow better, (not to mention be much more interesting from the get go). Please bear with me and enjoy nonetheless!
-Jack Knights
Why am I restrained? Link noticed once he'd regained consciousness. He was sitting up in a bed, his hands cuffed to the metal framework on either side. The room was relatively small and dark. The soft murmur of voices from behind the door in across from him told him he was being watched. Mind racing, Link struggled against the restraints on his wrists trying to remain as quiet as possible.
His hands were cuffed to the metal supports with sturdy leather straps, which were buckled tightly, giving him little room to wiggle his hand. Try as he might, Link couldn't manage to free himself and, with a huff of contempt, he gave up, slumping back against the sheets. How do I keep getting myself into these situations? This has to be a new record, being in a hospital for the second time in two months... Link mused, thinking back to his escape from the hospital in Kakariko. That's when an idea struck him. Sitting up again, he leaned as far forward as he could, bending until his face was level with his right arm. Using his teeth, he worked away the metal covering on his elbow, exposing the catch that released his arm at the elbow.
He let himself lie back against the bed, trying not to pant. A sudden wave of exhaustion had hit him and Link was sure that the people outside his room had heard him struggling. When no-one came, he renewed his efforts. The button was located on the inside of his elbow and Link knew he could never push it hard enough to disconnect his arm. A protruding screw caught his eye and after several minutes of twisting, he managed to line the screw up with the catch. With a grunt, he bent his elbow at an impossible angle, straining the metal until the screw pushed against the button, and his arm was suddenly free.
What happened next was unexpected. Link could only watch as his arm, now free of his body, swung in a downward arc, caught only by the strap of leather and struck the leg of the bed with a metallic ping. The Hylian cringed inwardly upon realizing his mistake, but wasted no time in rolling over the other side of the bed. His wrist twisted painfully, but he collapsed his hand as the leather gave and he was suddenly free, lying face down on the floor. Link heard the shouts of alarm rise and stood, searching for a weapon. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Link realized that he was fully clothed and was grateful for that. He just wished that his captors had left his things with him in the room.
A small of group of men entered the room, accompanying a young girl. They all wore suits of armour and carried sharp looking lances, except for the girl, who wore a nightgown. They spotted him, lying on the ground and charged, tackling him. Link gasped in pain as his arms were twisted painfully behind his back and a knee was placed on his neck, crushing his throat.
"Let him up," the girl said, having watched the spectacle with mild she stepped into the light, Link noticed that she was an young, but by no means a child. She had bright pink hair and deep purple eyes, which were lined lightly from exhaustion. Her skin was milky white and completely flawless, covered by a heavy looking nightgown that reached her knees. Link absentmindedly noticed that it was covered in a floral print, his gaze locked with the strange not-girl. She approached him, unblinking as he studied the Hylian. Link felt his nerves being scrapped by the oddness of the girl.
"Let me go!" he roared suddenly, animalistic fear striking through his gut. He immediately began struggling against his captors.
"Enough of this," she sighed, rolling her eyes as she reached out a hand to his cheek and Link slumped suddenly unconscious. The men hauled him back to the bad and she watched as they restrained him, her focus shifting to the metal arm hanging from limping from the bedside.
"What did you do to him Kore?" said a voice tinged with exasperation. The girl turned to see a newcomer, who like herself wore pyjamas, standing in the cubicle next to Link's, his narrow face growing grim when he confirmed the man's death. He was a tall lankly man with black hair that fell around his face messily, a streak of green visible in between the black. His clothes were ill-fitting and hung on his thin frame limply.
"Nothing, he was already dead when I got here," she said with a shrug. He shook his head as he walked over to where she stood, his bare feet slapping against the tiled floor loudly.
"How'd he escape?"
"He dislocated his arm and slipped free," she said, handing Sai Link's metal appendage. "I thought it best to remove this, lest he escape again."
"Hm... a prosthetic arm, huh? Well, I guess you're right," he handed her back the arm. "If that's all you need me for, I'm going back to bed."
"I think I'm done here as well," Kore muttered as she walked alongside him.
"Clean up in here, would ya?" Sai said back mildly as he left the room with Kore. They went down a series of hallways, eventually coming to a halt outside a door. She opened the door but stopped just inside her room, her hand on the doorknob. He noted her grip tighten before she spoke.
"Are you sure he's got his disease you mentioned?" she asked. Sai's face narrowed in contempt and she rolled her eyes at him, apparently a habit she had.
"Of course I am. I did those tests myself," he muttered as he stuck a finger in his ear. "They came back positive. I wish I was wrong, but I never am."
"Goodnight, Sai," she said promptly, closing the door in his face. He heard the lock turn and sigh. It's too bad, when you get down to it. We could use more crafty guys like him.
Sheik had trouble convincing the law that he hadn't killed Dormu when they'd finally caught up with them. He had the knife in his hand, having removed it from the Zora's back and was covered in blood. Carlisle's body was gone, of course, so he couldn't pin the blame on anyone. And he doubted they'd believe the truth anyway. Besides, he did feel responsible for his friend's death. His carelessness had gotten Dormu killed, and quite possibly Felicia as well. Without Dormu to guide her through the portals, she might end up in the middle of enemy territory, or worse, in what was left of the Twilight Realm.
They had cuffed him, but Sheik already had an escape plan formulating in his mind. As they escorted him out of the forest, he took his chance by tripping over an upturned log. The officers sighed and went over to bring him to his feet. That's when Sheik acted; he pushed himself off the ground and kicked the nearest guard in the skin. The man stumbled back, knocking into another officer and the both of the went sprawling. Sheik jumped to his feet and dashed into the men in front of him, throwing them aside. They shouted after him as he raced for one of the manors he'd seen upon entering the woods.
He climbed over the gates of one such mansion, falling into a bush. The smell of crushed raspberries assaulted him as he got to his feet. Several yards away sat a wash bucket and a bundle of clothes. Several sheets were already hanging to dry in the breeze and Sheik grimaced when he realized what he had to do. He summoned the magic that dwelt within him, crafting a spell as he ran. I hope this works, he thought as he heard the guards draw near.
"Go over to the next one, we'll search this one!" one of the guards shouted to his comrades. They nodded, splitting up. He walked over to the entrance to the manor and studied the surrounding brush. He noticed a couple squashed plants and eventually he made out a track. Following it, he noticed a trampled raspberry bush on the other side. Scaling the wrought-iron fencing, he jumped down to the other side, landing within the mansion's grounds. As he searched the area, singing reached his ears and he turned to see a young girl washing clothes in the distance.
As he approached her, he saw that she was a raven-haired woman with tan skin. She wore the simple dress of a maid, he long tresses tied back loosely by a length of string. He touched her shoulder and she squeaked in surprise, whirling around to face him.
"I'm sorry, miss," he apologized. "I didn't mean to scare you."
"What-who are you?" she stammered and he couldn't help but notice her ample chest heaving as she gasped for air.
"I'm with the law enforcement, young lady," he explained, going on to explain his situation to the girl. "Have seen anyone that fits that description come through here?"
"Um... no, officer, I haven't," she said with a shrug. "Is he dangerous? Should I warn the masters of the house to keep a lookout?" she asked, suddenly frightened.
"There's no need to panic, miss. But if you do see something suspicious, please let me know," he said evenly, trying not to frighten her more. She nodded, practically shaking as she wrapped her arms around her chest, exposing her cleavage. Easy, Bryant... the officer calmed himself, trying to fight back the growing redness in his face. "I'll be going then, miss."
"Oh, officer, please be careful," she pleaded, gripping his arm tightly as she pressed up against him. The flustered officer excused himself, assuring her he would be fine, reminding her to keep a lookout for anything odd. He walked away briskly as the handmaid waved good-bye, sheets clutched in her arms.
"Sucker," the maid muttered to herself. "Such a weak-willed man, being distracted by these," she mused, poking her chest. "I can't believe that spell worked, and so well too."
After hours of pouring over texts, maps and references, Dagg finally took off his glasses with a sigh. His brain was over-saturated with knowledge, his eyes hurt and he had a headache. And yet, despite his body's weariness, he still craved more. It was an unyielding thirst, an insatiable yearn to simply know more, to understand. He looked around him and smiled. Dagg had been in Ganondorf's private library for days now, holed up almost constantly except for the most basic of bodily needs. The massive, darkly stained desk was strewn with books, some open, others closed and piled upon towers of their like. Maps and scraps of paper were all around the room, tacked to the walls for easy reference.
Dagg had no doubt that he needed sleep. His eyes burned and drooped closed, but he fought off sleep and forged on through the days, surviving on coffee and bread. His clothes were dirty and this glasses dusty. He grinned madly, realizing that if Ganondorf saw him as he was, the tyrant might just keel over at the sight of him. Dagg frowned, realizing that he'd entertained a childish mentality for too long. Ganondorf would most likely have me strung up and tortured for my unkempt appearance, he realized as he slumped back in his chair, massaging a tense knot in his shoulder. He'd be furious, never mind shocked.
The more he dwelt on it, the more sour his mood became. Eventually he was too disgusted to keep reading and began packing away the books he'd taken from the shelves, which was most of them. About halfway done, there was a knock at the door. Frowning at the interruption, Dagg opened the door to shoo away the intruder, but his words caught in his throat when saw that his visitor was none other than the servant girl from before. Dagg stepped aside and began to speak, but he was silence for the second time that day when he took a closer look at her.
Although her head was bent, her hair covering most of her face, he could the sheen of fresh bruises on her face and the dull discolouration of old ones behind those. He quickly shut the door and bent low, gently raising her head, his hand cradling her cheek. Dagg hissed when he felt her swollen face upon his palm and the tears that dripped down from blackened eyes. The girl dove at him, wrapping her arms around his neck as she broke out into heart-wrenching sobs. Dagg enveloped her, wishing they'd beaten him instead of the girl. Ganondorf... what is his plan? He acts nicely towards me directly, then throws this at me? Why, what purpose does it serve? Is he really that twisted?
Once the girl had cried herself out, he pulled her away from his lapels and sat her on the chair while he knelt on the floor. That's when he noticed that her clothes were ripped and she was bleeding from a shallow cut on her shin. Her wrists were rubbed raw as well; telltale signs of imprisonment. Dagg gritted his teeth until he caused himself pain, his hand balled tightly into fist.
"What happened?" Dagg asked her, barely able to keep his voice from wavering with his fury. At first, she refused to speak, merely sniveling, clutching her middle and looking at her feet.
"I don't know who else to turn to. Please, you have to help me find my mama and brother!" she pleaded , her anxiety finally explained.
"What happened? I thought I told you to leave the city," he asked, barely able to keep his voice from shaking with his fury. At first, the girl refused to meet his gaze, holding onto her middle as he waited patiently for her to speak.
"I tried sir, honest," she began, sounding every bit the innocent child. "I managed to convince her, my momma, to leave the city and take me and my brother away. But as we reached the gates, we were halted by a group of soldiers," she bit her lip, fighting back her tears as she sniffled. "They grabbed momma and took her away. Then they came back for my brother and me."
"Did you see where they took them?" Dagg asked; the girl shook her head and he cursed silently. The bastards... just because I refuse to... no, this is his fault, he reminded himself. Ganondorf, how could you be so heartless? he thought acidly.
He implored her to continue, to give him a single clue as to where her family might be, but the only knowledge he'd garnered was that she had been taken back to the castle and brought before Ganondorf. At first he was surprised that the soldiers would treat a child so harshly, but then he remembered that she'd disobeyed orders from the King—at his suggestion. Dagg cursed his foolishness; he'd thought that she'd be able to get to relative safety before Ganondorf noticed—that he'd take the blame, not her. But it was not to be the case.
The King had decided to have her beaten, but not to death. While she'd been dragged away, the question of what would happen to her family arose and try as she had, the girl had been hauled off before she could discover anything. After several hours of torture at the twin witches, she'd been forced back into service as a maid, working with unfeeling servants and a tyrant of a lord. Once she'd been summoned to the Citadel again, she had braved more punishment in seeking out Dagg's help, hiding in cupboards and conversing with the few trustworthy servants within the gray walls.
Dagg listened to the girl sob out her tale, all the while his heart clenched at the hardships one so young had been forced to go through. Despite being mostly unable to do anything—his words held no value in Ganondorf's court. A deep rooted anger began stirring within him. He obviously sent her here to continue with his twisted mind games. But to what end? As he pondered this, his insatiable rage grew, clouding his thoughts. It was quite a while before he realized that the girl had stopped speaking and was looking at him intently. The look she gave him bore through his fury and he softened.
Picking at the threading holding his sleeve to his shirt, Dagg ripped the cloth from his arm, tearing it into long strips lengthwise. He then began applying the makeshift bandages to the girls various cuts and bruises, being as gentle as possible.
"There," he announced after tying the last knot. "I'm sorry, but this is all I can do for you. If I had my medical supplies..." he trailed off, thinking back to his hospital in Kakariko. "Anyway, what's your name?"
"Claire," she squeaked.
"Alright, Claire, I'm going to make you a promise, 'K?" he said, holding her hands in his own, dropping his scholarly vocabulary. "I want you to stay out of trouble, but keep your ears open. If anything, no matter how small happens, I want you to send a note? Don't come to me, send someone else, OK?"
"Alright," she murmured, nodding her head.
"Hey, don't worry about a thing," he said, lifting her chin with a finger. "I will find them, your momma and your brother."
"Thank you so much mister!" she cried, wrapping her arms around his neck.
"We're friends, so don't call me 'mister.' My name's Dagg," he said with a forced smile. There was no doubt in his mind that the girl's family had very little time to live, if they weren't already dead. Alone again once Claire had left to go back to her duties, Dagg rummaged through the books he'd left lying around. If there's one place they might be, it would be the dungeons, he thought grimly to himself. He remembered the blackened walls and foul smelling air within the basement chambers of the Citadel with a shiver. A plan formulating in his mind, Dagg hurried to find the original plans of the castle.