Chapter 17

Link

He had woken up and everything hurt. The back of his head smarted and his mouth was dry as bone. He tried to reach for the cup of water someone had blessedly poured him, but a searing pain in his shoulder made him jolt. He tried to turn so he could reach it with his left but agony in his chest made him stop. For just a moment he panicked when he couldn't move his hand, but the realized it had just been bound closed.

He lay back, already exhausted and tried to calm his pounding heart. He felt like a complete cripple, not even able to get a cup of water that was right there.

Alright… slowly then!

He sat back up, wincing. He very carefully touched each of his ribs, applying minimal pressure. Didn't seem too bad, no sudden sting or loose bone… bruised but not broken, he'd say.

Using his left to help shift his weight he slowly turned around until he sat crosswise, his legs dangling down. Now he could reach the cup with his left and finally wash the dust in his throat away.

Never had water tasted this delicious! He must have sat there for at least ten minutes, delicately sipping water. Slowly but surely his headache abated.

Link urgently wanted to know how bad the wound on his shoulder was. He, exceedingly gently, tried to move all the joints in his arm. It stung nastily but at least he could move everything normally, as far as he could tell.

He exhaled in relief. While sacrificing his arm for another's life was surely a noble thing, he thought that the age of 15 was a little young to permanently lose a limb.

His musings were abruptly interrupted when the door opened. A portly nurse walked in, then all hell broke loose.

"What in Nayru's name are you doing out of bed, young man?" she blustered.

Before he could even answer that he was still very much in his bed she had already taken the cup away, gauged his temperature by touching his forehead and cheeks and checked on his bandaged hand and back.

"Really now! You boys think you're invincible, don't you? Romping about like this when you're hurt! How is it supposed to heal, then? Well?" the nurse-dragon nagged while bustling about, opening curtains, fluffing his pillow and damn near picking him up to force him to lie back down. Link was momentarily so flustered that he couldn't get a word out. He wanted to say that, no, he didn't feel invincible and he was certainly not 'romping'! What he did say was "Buaaah?"

Her demeanour changed so suddenly that Link almost got emotional whiplash.

"Poor dear! But you'll be alright! Young lads like you shake a scratch like this off like nothing, you'll see! Is the pain too much? Do you need something for it?" she asked motherly.

Link blurrily remembered the milky white substance they had forced on him yesterday. Not only had he felt like vomiting all over again, his head had also felt as if someone had replaced his brain with cotton. And he had still felt every stitch…

"No, thank you, ma'am." His voice sounded hoarse and dry. He suppressed a cough, fearing it would cause his ribcage to explode.

"It's alright. Only some more water, if you would be so kind." He said with a bit of charm. He most certainly didn't want to get on this woman's bad side.

"Well now! A gentleman as well as a hero! I'll bring you your breakfast, deary. Can't let you grow weak, now can we?" she said with an almost conspiratorial smile.

Link didn't quite know what to think of that but at the sound of breakfast his stomach took over the thinking anyway.

A few moments later the she-dragon returned with a sizeable tray filled with bread, butter, cheese and fruit. Link was very nearly slavering like a dog.

"The doctor will look at you after you've eaten. Be careful not to move that shoulder, though or I'll see to it that the next stitches are done without poppy milk!" she threatened. Link didn't doubt her for a second.

The physician had come about five hours ago. He had removed the bandage – about a gently as a Hinox – and had poked about. After a few mumbled 'aha's and 'mhm's he had informed him that it looked good so far and that it would probably heal cleanly. Then he had pulled away the glove like bandaging from his hands and that had hurt so much that Link had had to bite his tongue not to curse like a sailor. He had looked at his fingers. Those relatively tiny cuts acted like he had just dipped his hand into molten steel. The doctor had grumbled affirmatively and had dryly explained that, yes, it hurt most were one's sense of touch was strongest. Link had to resist the strong urge to stretch his fingers that had been constricted for almost a day. The nurse would probably bandage it twice as tight in response.

The physician's last question was how his thorax felt and whether he felt pain if he breathed. When he, being a good patient, negated the man quickly left to continue his round. All in all the examination had taken about five minutes, for which Link was rather thankful. The guy surely had a lot of patients after yesterday's catastrophe and if he spent so little with him, it must mean that he wasn't all that worried about his continued well-being.

The nurse, helped by a younger, more charming version, had proceeded to clean his wounds and re-bandaged them. He successfully averted another finger-prison by promising he would maintain a fist by himself. Asking the king for a duchy couldn't be more difficult than getting the nurse-dragon to relent a millimetre!

They also offered to help wash him. And by 'offered' they meant practically forcing themselves on him. Link had grudgingly accepted help with his back, but anything lower he firmly declared off limits. He almost regretted it later, as he found out that many parts are awful to reach with one hand and a half a dozen ribs that demand to be left in peace.

Now, five hours later he was lying in his bed, unable to do anything. With nothing to take his mind off it, he was forced to re-live the entire event over and over. His heart quickened when he remembered seeing the assassin sneak inside, his skin felt hot when he recalled the Moblin's blood washing over him, his stomach turned sour when he recollected the silent terror in the attacker's eyes when he stabbed him through the neck.

Link couldn't banish the images. If he closed his eyes they only got stronger! Every detail resurfaced so clearly it was sickening. How they looked, how they sounded when he… killed them. He had killed people… He had ended the lives of Hylians! True, they were assassins and had targeted Zelda… the thought rekindled his rage… but still, they weren't monsters. He recalled the panic he had seen in the last one's eyes. The will to live…

He especially remembered how he had felt. The feeling was etched into his soul. At first the fiery, barely controllable rage that had overpowered all thought, driven him to kill like a… monster. Then this… this… Link subconsciously balled his fists until his hands trembled and his wounds screamed. …this… bastard… had hurt her! His fury had instantly turned to a cold, emotionless plan to kill. It was as if another side of him had suddenly taken control, a being of pure rationality driven to a deadly, glacial point. He didn't know which side frightened him more.

… that wasn't true, Link realized. The cold killer inside scared him to death. This time he… it had saved the princess. But what if it happened again?

With dismay his overwrought mind showed him images of that thing wearing his skin beating a fellow contestant to death, in front of everybody.

Was that truly a side of him? Such callous, murderous intent?

Then again…

Once again his pulse started racing at the thought of Zelda being held hostage. She was too far away and he'd never reach her. But suddenly, with icy assurance, he had known. He had known that nothing could stop him. He had known that he would kill him. He had known that he would save her.

It had given him power! Link suddenly realized, his eyes growing wide, that what he had done, how he had done it, was impossible! No-one could jump three meters from genuflexion with such a speed that someone, who had his knife on his victim's throat, couldn't react. He remembered every detail so terribly clearly… to him it had seemed as if time had stopped for everyone else. He had been able to sneak his fingers between the blade and her delicate neck so slowly and carefully as if he was trying to caress her. He had been able to snap his elbow as if he was trying to break a blade of grass. And she had not been harmed. And he had been in total control…

Link wasn't sure what to make of all this. His thoughts were torn. That emotionless bringer of death he had become frightened him, but it had definitely not been a directionless, psychotic killing spree. And it had allowed him to save that wonderful, innocent angel… so it couldn't be all bad, right?

Link sighed and shook his head, as if to batter these swirling, torturous thoughts out of his head. He had to do something before his idiot brain forced him to replay the whole scenario again. A little pain was preferable to going insane!

He stood up, slowly, and walked around a few steps. He felt a little woozy and wondered how much blood he had lost. He wondered how much he could lose…

Sadly, the small room's potential for distraction was exhausted very soon. He was just about to dare sticking his head out into the corridor when he heard a knock on the door. He knew it couldn't be one of the nurse-dragons. They wouldn't knock.

"Enter!" he called. Anyone was welcome right now, at least anyone who wasn't clad in white and tried to enforce a strict stay-in-bed-regime.

'Oh goddess, what if it was her?' he thought in sudden panic. He must look a right mess, pallid, sidling around the room like an ancient man. She couldn't seem him like this!

To his immeasurable relief Sir Russel stepped inside, followed closely by Sir Alistair. "Huh, you're up already. Don't rightly know why that surprised me." Sir Russel grumbled as a greeting. He was smiling widely, a sight rarely seen on his face. It was strangely catchy, Link thought. "Thank the goddess you're here. Lying here with nothing to do is driving me crazy!" he said. And to his other 'guest': "Greetings, Sir Alistair!"

"Would have come earlier, lad! Do you have any idea how hard it is to get past that she-devil of a nurse? They should send her to the border, the Moblins would run screaming!" Sir Russel mumbled. Link could see in his face that the old bear was immensely relieved to see him up and well. Not for the first time it jolted through his young brain how dangerously close he had come to a violent death. He too felt a surge of relief. Good thing Sir Alistair was here or he might have done something foolish like try to hug his old mentor out of sheer emotionality. That would have been epically awkward.

Speaking of whom, why was he here? He did not at all seem the type to express his thanks verbally. Link expected he was rather the type who would have slapped him on the back, saying something like: "Not dead yet, boy?"

Sir Russel seemed to have read his thoughts. "Anyway, boy, Sir Alistair here wanted to speak to you personally. Since you were anointed knight-aspirant and have already shown a little promise…" the old knight allowed himself a chuckle, "he wants to have a talk."

The blademaster nodded. "Aye. In privacy, if you don't mind, Sir." he rasped.

His mentor's proud smile vanished and left behind a bemused frown. "Why?"

"Your protégé may speak openly to you afterwards. But for now I will have privacy." It was not a threat. Just a statement…

Sir Russel was clearly not amused. He was about to say something but thought better of it, bowed and left. He shot Link a glancing smile, as if telling him not to worry.

…it didn't help.

The blademaster waited patiently until Sir Russel had closed the door behind him, then directed his eternally sour gaze at Link.

"You better sit down, lad. I want your full attention and you look like you might keel over any second." he wheezed.

Link did indeed still feel a bit wobbly, but hell would freeze over before he would take such an unmanly offer, no matter how well meant it was.

"I will be fine, thank you. I prefer to stand." he said levelly.

"Suit yourself. I'm old and I'll sit." and he grabbed the lone chair in the room and sat down, looking about as old and frail as a hunting tiger.

"I don't have much time to spare since I have to deal with yesterday's aftermath. From what I have seen so far you are graced with a working brain, so I'll be direct. What do you know about yesterday's attack?"

The aging man had asked the question completely neutrally, no sign of accusation or threat. Still, to Link it sounded as if he was implying that he knew something he wasn't letting on, or that he was a suspect even. He felt his temper rise.

"What makes you think I know more than you, sir?" A stupid answer, he realized immediately. It made him sound needlessly standoffish, as if he had something to hide.

"Calm yourself, Link Andrésson." His opposite rasped with the faintest hit of placation. "You are not suspected of anything. I can not quite see you being involved in the planning of an assassination attempt only to thwart it single-handedly. This is, however, what interests me. You dispatched six assassins that, frankly, cut through our defences like a hot knife through butter. A young lad, fifteen years, trained in duelling, not combat. You, sir, have every reason to be as dead as a hammer." he rattled matter-of-factly, pointing at Link.

"Yet all you have to show for yourself is a little scratch. But that in itself is not yet reason enough for me to be here. This could all still be amazing dumb luck."

Link resented that quite fiercely, but wanted to keep on listening for now.

"Then I came to the scene in the corridor. You, understandably spent and the princess as good as dead. I wouldn't have even dared fire an arrow at the assassin, fearing that the merest twitch of his hand would be the end for her. Do you know what happened next?" Sir Alistair asked. Link could feel they had arrived at the heart of the matter. He only hoped that the old man would believe him, if he said he had absolutely no bloody idea how he'd done any of it.

"Next I saved the princess." Link said guardedly.

The blademaster nodded slowly. "That's right. Care to describe how?"

Link sighed and now sat down on his bed. "Blademaster, I wish I could tell you. I wish I'd know myself. I know what I did, precisely even, but not how. I felt cold, rational. I knew he had to die, so I… killed him. It was easy as if I'd done it a thousand times before…"

Sir Alistair looked him straight in the eyes and Link looked back. It was as if that man could see right through your skull.

"I believe you. Do you want to know how it looked from my end?" he asked.

Link thought about it briefly, then nodded.

"You were kneeling, panting. Then you suddenly stopped breathing. Next thing I see is you standing three metres away, having defused the situation in a very final way. I saw maybe a shimmer of your movement. I don't think I have to tell you it was quite…"

"Impossible." Link finished the sentence.

He nodded. "Aye." The knight was still staring at Link, unblinking, and he felt increasingly like a child out of his depth.

"What will happen next?" he asked, almost timidly.

"No reason for the long face, lad. Your actions saved the day and trust me that this is not something you'll hear me say often. The rumours of your deed are already spreading like wildfire. People will treat you like a hero, whether you like it or not." The way he said 'hero' sounded just a tad derogatory, as if that word just didn't exist in his vocabulary. Link indeed didn't know what to think of it. He had come to the city to win a tournament and… maybe win a girl's affection. Certainly not to be recognized on the streets for his proficiency at killing.

"I'm not at all sure whether I want that, actually."

"Good. I can't use a student whose is already so big it touches the clouds." he rasped and leaned back on his chair.

Link was so preoccupied with the uncomfortable thought of being called a hero that it took a while for his opposite's last words to sink in. He looked up, eyebrows raised.

"Student?" he asked, surprised.

"Took you long enough. Aye. I have reported to the king yesterday's events. We have come to the conclusion that you require exceptional tuition. The king has, unsurprisingly, taken a personal interest in you. He has asked me to continue your training and I have accepted. You will be discharged tomorrow, others need that bed more urgently than you. You will come to the knight's sparring room first thing after dinner."

All that information swam through Link's head, searching for a place to make sense. The king? Personal interest? Exceptional tuition? Tomorrow?! He remembered what Sir Russel had said about the blademaster's skill. This man would teach him personally? Link couldn't suppress an eager smile.

"Do I not get a say in the matter?" he asked in jest.

"Sure you do. You get to say 'yes'!" Sir Alistair answered with a lopsided smirk. However, all levity left his face when he grumbled: "Listen, lad. I would be remiss not to tell you that this is not happening so you can just be an ordinary knight of a retinue. I have been the king's military advisor for fifteen years and he seems to have plans for you. What plans, he hasn't deigned to divulge to me. Stay on your guard."

That didn't sound ominous at all, Link thought sarcastically. But he was sure the blademaster was right. There had been an attack that had nearly hit the very core of the country. And he, Link, had averted it. He swallowed nervously. What could the king have planned for him?

Sir Alistair had left quickly but Sir Russel had stayed a little longer. Link had told him what they had discussed. He had even hesitantly explained the impossible feat he had done. Sir Russel, ever the realist, had said that in times of enormous stress, people were capable of surprising things, tapping hidden strengths. Link had accepted that explanation, but knew that it barely scratched the surface.

His mentor seemed both incredibly proud and a little sad. He rumbled something about Link having outgrown his old teacher. He also said with a sardonic smile that he would now get to explore the slimy depths of court intrigue.

Shortly afterwards Ricco had miraculously appeared. The tree discussed at length the duels that had taken place the day before. Link was thankful for the distraction; he didn't want to think about himself or the blademasters words right now. Ricco was of course helpful as ever.

"Look at you, hero! So many chances to die and you idiot fail to take any of them. And then you act like an invalid because of a piddly scratch. Now I have to transport your worthless carcass back to Ord, instead of finally being rid of you!" he had chuckled and had slapped him so hard on the back that Link was sure that all the stitches had come loose.

He explained to his big friend again what had happened, but he seemed to know most of it anyway. He also told him he wouldn't come back to Ord so soon, as he was to begin his training as knight-aspirant.

Ric had shaken his head in mock disgust. "What is this world coming to when things like you can become knights. Bah!"

Then he had grinned conspiratorially. "Well, at least you will be a good deal closer to the young lady you're trying to woo."

Link shot him a warning glare. They couldn't speak openly with the old bear in the room.

The two stayed with him for another hour until they were forcefully ushered out by the nurse-dragon. Link was sad to see them go already, but at least his mood had improved considerably. He was alone again. He wanted to try and see that Ricco's manhandling hadn't caused his wound to bleed again, so he removed the nightshirt he was wearing. He lightly touched the bandage, trying to feel if it had bled through. He heard another knock. "Enter!" he said, lost in concentration.

Standing with his back to the door he asked: "Have you forgotten something, Ric?"

"Should you be up already?" A female voice. A very familiar, clear voice.

Link's heart skipped a beat. He stood in his underwear, bent like a fool trying to scratch his back in front of the princess! Oh goddess!

…then again…

He turned around, trying his very hardest not to look ashamed.

My goddess, there she really stood. She looked about as tired as he felt. Tired and absolutely lovely. She seemed to study him with a surprised and slightly worried expression.

He felt a smile tug at the corners of his mouth. "Should you be here?" he asked with a raised eyebrow.

She too seemed to feel a grin playing around her lips. She crossed her arms. "I can certainly leave again. I only waited for the last half hour until your friends finally left."

"You did? Feeling sneaky again? Seems to be your favourite pastime." Link teased with a shrewd smile.

He could swear he saw her blush a tiny bit, which was enough to make his head feel light as a feather.

"Touché. Are you sure you should be out and about?" she asked once again.

Link didn't know what to say. His sarcastic answer got stuck in his throat when he saw how genuinely worried that wonderful girl was about him.

"Probably not, but its fine. According to nurse dragon I am probably to stay prone until I'm unable to move at all." he remarked.

She giggled slightly. "Yes, I think I have met the lady in question. Unfortunately your name for her fits rather well."

Zelda seemed to study him…rather… well… before she met his eyes again. This time she didn't blush lightly. She blushed furiously.

Link was suddenly very aware again that he was only slightly dressed.

"I err… I'm… sorry." Good goddess, he sounded like a twit.

He tried to hide his own flush by turning away to put on his nightshirt again. But no, wait! Then he would show her his injury, he didn't want that! Wait, that was stupid. She knew he was wounded, no need to play tough. Goodness, this girl was making him stupid!

"I… wanted to thank you, Link. For saving my life." he heard her say softly.

He paused, his back turned to her, shirt in his hand. He didn't want to say something profoundly idiotic like "No need!". There was need, it was clear in her voice. He could almost feel the guilt reverberating in her voice and it nearly broke his heart. He had to fight an urge to just hug her and tell her it was alright.

He turned half around so he could smile understandingly at her. "I would do it again without a doubt in my mind."

She looked up at his kind but serious expression. With a gut-wrenching jolt he saw that she was fighting her tears and her bottom lip quivered.

Oh goddess, no! What had he said?!

Quick! Distract her!

"Would you, err… help me with my shirt? It's difficult with my shoulder." He mumbled, turning back to face the wall.

Then he realized what he had just said and his eyes widened in shock. He had just asked the princess, his liege woman, a young girl, to dress him! Damnation, I'll spend the rest of my life in the dungeons, he thought panicky. He must come across like a complete pervert! Damn damn damn damn…!

He heard her sniffle quietly and to his even greater shock she stepped close. She took the shirt from his hands and proffered the right sleeve. Like in a daze he wriggled his handicapped arm through and she pulled it up to his shoulder. She moved around his back so he could now slip his left into the other sleeve.

"Sorry. I'm not very good at this, I'm afraid." She said, her voice cracking slightly.

Link's heart was cracking slightly too. His head was now so utterly confused he was barely able to button the shirt up.

"Thank you." he muttered, feeling like an idiot.

"Is it very painful?" she asked when he had turned back to her. She seemed to fear the answer. Link couldn't believe it. This wonderful angel truly, foolishly, felt guilty for this silly little scratch! Deeply so, even! What could he say? What could he say to lift that misplaced sense of guilt from her shoulders?

"Right now I hardly feel it at all." he assured her softly, earnestly. "And I don't say that to seem tough. Please believe me when I say that I do not blame you in any way. This is little more than a scratch and it was more than worth it to make sure that you remain unharmed."

She lowered her head and nodded. When she looked back up she had a sad little smile on her lips. "Nayru, I feel like an idiot. Here you are, injured, yet still it is you who has to console me. I'm sorry."

"Stop it with the 'sorry'. No more 'sorry's from you." Link scolded with a charming grin and his index finger raised.

"If I am to stay here to become a knight I do not want to hear you say sorry all the time."

She gave a tiny giggle and her face brightened considerably.

"You will stay, then? Even though…" she asked, letting her sentence remain unfinished.

"My princess has asked me to stay." Link answered half serious, half coquettish. "How could I ever decline?"