How a Seemingly Ordinary Day Ends With a Twist
It's the song of the chickadees that stirs her awake. Their sweet voices luring her mind from its subconscious till awake. Rubbing the sleep from her eyes, she is confused upon seeing worn, wooden boards above her head in place of an open sky.
Sitting up in the bed—for she is in a bed, Zelda glances around the room, her eye's flitting this way and that, trying to take in as much information as possible. A sigh of relief escapes her, for she's in her room.
This makes no sense to Zelda. Had I not fallen asleep in the woods? she wonders. Was I not using a wolf for a pillow?
She tries to make sense of things, but her sluggish morning mind makes the process difficult. After a moment longer, she gives up, deciding to wait for a later time before trying to recall the events from last night.
Reluctantly removing herself from the warm confines of her bed, she throws on some clothes, shuddering as the cold fabric wraps around her soft skin. Making her way to the door, she thinks back upon last night. It all felt so real. Everything from the wolves to the snow had felt real. And that song. That song! She can recall it perfectly. The tune, the melody, the lyrics! She remembers it all! Yet there's this nagging voice of doubt telling her that it is only her imagination. Just a dream, and nothing more.
She reaches the door and hesitates, her hand hovering above the knob. Standing there, staring at nothing and questioning her senses, she is startled when the door swings open making her jump back. Aryll is on the other side staring back at her, wide eyed, with her hand wrapped around the knob.
"Oh, Zelda!" Aryll cries upon recomposure. "You're already awake, good. Hurry up, or we'll be late for work!"
"What?" Zelda exclaims as Aryll drags her by the arm, not even allowing Zelda to enjoy the sight of seeing her friend alright, or have the chance to ask her about last night. While being pulled along by her friend, Zelda's mind once more finds its way back to last night. Even while hastily drinking down some beer soup, she can't help but wonder if the events of last night had truly all been nothing but a dream.
The day is like every other workday. From the start of her shift to the end of it, Zelda sews together one article of clothing after another with all the other seamstresses. As always, they work in silence with only the occasional whispered conversation between girls that is quickly put down by Arlette.
This cold weather isn't doing any favours. Repeatedly, it is forcing her to pause and rub the numbness out of her hands. The other girls also rub their hands ever now and then, or use the candles on the tables to desperately return warmth to their fingers.
As feeling returns to her fingers, the familiar sensation of being watched nudges at her. Glancing over her shoulder, a heavy sigh leaves her at the sight of Styla glaring at her.
For the most part, Styla has been only a minor annoyance. Aside from the nasty looks, she hasn't really done much other than toss a few idle threats that she hasn't followed through on. When it comes to Styla, Zelda's more worried about Holly who always seems to shrink away whenever Styla comes near.
Zelda gives her friend a side-long look. She knows something isn't right, but she doesn't know how to help. Shaking her head woefully, she returns her work, trying to get as much done as she can despite the chill.
Her shift ends as always, and she sighs in relief—something she's been doing more often as the days grow short, and the weather chills, and she thinks of the warm hearth at home. Shoving her belongings into her bag, she hurries out the door with Holly close behind her. The two friends walk side by side down the road, talking about this and that and not minding their shoes getting wet and cold from the snow. Everything is merry between them. There's a skip in their steps and jolly smiles on their faces while enjoying each others company. At least, until Holly freezes in the middle of the road, eyes widening and body going tense.
Across the road from them is Styla giving the pair an evil eye. She proceeds to approach them, a devious smile twisting onto her face.
Not wanting to wait and see what Styla has to say, Zelda grabs Holly's hand and redirects the two of them down a different path. When it looks like they've successfully given Styla the slip, they stop to allow Holly's nerves to calm down.
"Are you alright?"
"Yeah," Holly replies.
Her reply rings hollow in Zelda's ears. The princess is eager to push for more. A desire for the truth builds up inside her until it feels like a dam about to burst. It urges her to push and badger Holly for more. It is difficult, but she hammers the urge down, respecting her friend's privacy. She opts for giving Holly a tight hug, rubbing circles on her back and allowing the girl to rest her head on her bosom.
A loud crash startles the girls apart, breaking the peaceful embrace. Loud noises can be heard from the nearby pub; the sound of shattering glass and splintering wood can be heard from the public building. Several people have gathered in the street and are nervously eyeing the pub, as if expecting a fiend to walk out. Though from the sound of things, it could possibly be a fiend.
The doors burst open, and a ragged looking individual, with rugged features and a crooked jaw is sent flying backwards through the doors, tumbling head over heel onto the street. Before he can get up, a shadow rushes out the ruined doors and pins him down. Somehow, Zelda isn't at all surprised to see the attacker is Link.
"...Last time, you were exiled," she hears him say menacingly. "Last time, you were told that if your ugly mug was ever seen here again it would be behind bars for you."
The man glares hotly at Link, gnashing his teeth at him. "You 'ave no right, Huntsman!" he barks. "I was doin' not'in' wrawng in t'at barr! Just doonin' a few drinks."
"Maybe not this time," Link replies coolly. "But last I checked your record, you have three charges of sexual harassment—one of them being with a minor, two charges of rape—one being with another minor, five charges of battery, and one charge of armed robbery! That is why I'm bringing you in!"
The man's eyes narrow coldly. He says nothing, staring defiantly at Link, his head held high. There was even the ghost of a smile pulling at the corner of his mouth.
"You better be bloody happy there's no murder charges against you; otherwise your neck would have been stretched long ago! Fortunately for you, you're not that stupid. My orders come from the mayor. Your ass is going to jail, whether you like it or not. You either come willing or I drag you back by a noose."
An animalistic snarl rises from the man's throat. "You and yer sisters can get stuffed for all I care! Yer fat'er was a moblin, and yoor mot'er is a bitch!" He spits in Link's face.
Gasps echo throughout the gathered crowd, mothers move to cover their children's ears, and everyone casts a weary eye at Link, as if they expect him to lash out. Though Link doesn't lash out, Zelda sees his hands clenched so tightly that his knuckles are white and his palms bleed. His voice comes out icy and dark.
"So, it's the hard way."
He proceeds to punch the man in the face, stunning him. A rope is pulled from his bag which he ties around the villain's neck in a noose. When the noose is tied, he looks up, and his eyes meet Zelda's. They lock eyes for a moment, during which Link's stone cold expression softens and he slowly turns away. His gaze is downcast and the tips of his ears droop ever so slightly. And so he leaves, dragging the man behind him, kicking and choking all the way.
The two girls watch the incident in wonder and slight horror. Their run in with Styla is completely forgotten, the events of Link and this man too fresh in their minds. The brutality Link used to carry out justice, and the pained cries coming from the man; it is haunting, and Zelda worries all the more for Link.
Then when their eyes had met, there was that look of shame and sadness. She had wanted to rush in and hug him, comfort him, but she had been too afraid to.
"I... I think I should be heading home," Holly meekly says.
"I should too," Zelda agrees.
They awkwardly say farewell before going their separate ways.
"That was rather interesting, wouldn't you say?"
Zelda nearly jumps out of her skin. She glares at Merari who has a smug grin on his face and a twinkle in his eyes. He is nearly directly behind her, and a trail of footprints can be seen in the snow leading back to the vendors in the street.
"Why did you do that Merari?"
"Apologies, milady. I was simply humouring myself."
"Well humour yourself somewhere else," she replies hotly.
"Wait!" Merari stops her, grasping her hand. "I also wanted to see if you still remembered our dinner tonight." Zelda tries to keep her cool, even as passersby glance at them before whispering to themselves.
"Of course I remember!" she exclaims, offended.
Merari gives a curt nod. "Of course. Apologies again, milady. I'll see you later then." He turns on his heel and swiftly departs in the direction he came from, his cloak billowing behind him.
Zelda sighs tiredly once he's out of sight. In truth, she had forgotten.
A pair of polished oak doors loom before her, and fixed on it is a brass knocker shaped in the likeness of a cat. Her body starts to shiver as a foreboding feeling ensnares her.
She dismisses the feeling, declaring it nonsense. She breathes deeply in a vain effort to calm her beating heart and wipes her hands on her dress—even as the sweat forms—before pounding the knocker on the door. A hollow thump echoes through the walls like a drum. Moments later, the doors slowly swing open on oiled hinges, revealing a spindly old man in servant's clothes.
"You must be the Lady Zelda," he croaks. "The master is expecting you."
With a bow, he leads her inside, guiding her down a grand hall lit by candles to a simple yet flourished dining room. Merari is already there. He greets her with a flourishing bow and a kiss on the hand. Readjusting his grip, he leads her to the table, pulling out her chair for her before taking his own.
They converse over simple matters; the weather, her job, the comings and goings in the village, and each other's likes and interests. She learns that Merari has an uncle who is a viscount in Hyrule and that his parents own a wealthy merchant business. This manor is only one of many properties they own. It had been given to Merari as a coming of age gift.
All throughout the conversation, Zelda enjoys the food greatly. From the moment the first bite passes her lips, she is whisked away in a dream. The corners of her mouth lift up in a smile that widens across her face as she savours every second of the food being in her mouth.
The food is rich—on par with what had been served to her back at the castle, except her portions here are equal to Merari's. She is reminded of the grand balls held on her birthday, of easy food and comfort as the familiar flavours of spices and sugar overpower her senses. It is enough to make the food she has been consuming these past months seem bland in comparison. The dinner is finished off with a bottle of Gerudo wine to wash it all down. Now they are satisfied and full, with not even a single crumb remaining. No sooner have they set aside their forks that the servants come in and sweep away the dishes and cutlery.
Rising swiftly and gracefully from his chair, taking delicate, even strides towards her, Merari helps Zelda up from her chair, offering his arm and guiding her to a sitting room. The sitting room is a little more spacious than the dining room and is furnished with a fringed, scarlet rug, cushioned chairs, a sofa, with pictures of family members hanging on the wall and a warm hearth burning on the far side of the room. Clapping his hands twice, then thrice, he summons three minstrels, who enter from a side door. Giving a low bow, he extends his hand to Zelda and asks her for a dance. Zelda—greatly impressed by the display—accepts.
He leads her into a full waltz, and the two glide across the floor like birds in the sky. A smile finds its way onto the princess, and she sighs contentedly. How she's missed this; dancing. She had forgotten how much she loves it. Now she feels joyful in a way she hasn't for a while as she hums the tune of the melody, imaging she is at a ball, and that everyone has their eyes on her and only her.
Closing her eyes, she allows her body to move on its own, going off memory and instinct.
She'll never know how it happened, nor would she dare speak of it. Maybe it had been the music, maybe it had been the wine, or maybe it had been some insatiable need. Whatever the reason, at the closing of the song, somehow they had drawn close together and kissed.
She does not know who initiated it, but it is clear Merari had been more into it than her. It lasts for a mere moment before she pulls away, excusing herself. More embarrassed than she has ever been in her life, she bids Merari farewell and leaves through the door.
She has little sleep that night.
Review Reply:
Lightblade1121(ch 13): I was aiming for heartwarming. Good to know it delivered on that front. The story is continuing.
Shout outs to 27 and omega677. Welcome to the party.