Times have changed. The destruction of the Calamity has come and gone. Hyrule has finally begun its reconstruction. Peace, for the most part, reigns over the land—of course, the odd monster raid or two will rear their ugly-mawed heads, but overall, the country is calm.
"General," A young man—no older than twenty—approaches the man leaning over a table. A map rests upon its surface, the entirety of the kingdom, stamped with flags signifying forts in development, garrisons hastily put together from the kingdom's bones of before. Armour clanks in the soundless room as he stands at attention, back straight and head held high with his fist pounding against his breastplate. "Word has arrived from the Sheikah; the 'Skyview Towers' have begun development using the remains from the ancient ones that fell during the battle with the Calamity."
"Corporal Sigint. Good to see you safe." A firm nod follows the statement. "I am glad they are making use of the ruins. Speak to Purah about hastening the reparations of the tower here, in Lookout Landing. Having a birds-eye view of the field will offer many advantages to the Citadel. Explain concisely that if we're to protect the reconstruction of Castle Town, we will need the ability to see the enemy before they can sneak up on us."
"Yes, General." The soldier stomps his foot, expecting to be dismissed, but the general glances over his shoulder, peering past the hilt of his holy blade protruding from his back. The dark navy of his gilded uniform contrasts the silver of the soldier reporting to him, who halts his movement instantly.
"And the Princess? Any word from her?"
His deep tones and weary voice contrast with the youth still prevalent across the general's face, only halted by the short scruff of a forgotten beard. Youth betrays experience, however, as the man carries himself like a soldier who's faced a thousand battles and has come out on top every time.
Scars, however, linger across almost every line of his visage, making the General look almost feral under the lamplight. The younger man tries hard not to wriggle under his superior's hardened gaze.
"Her majesty sent a letter from Hateno. She is with the garrison stationed in the village. They have started constructing a school for the children under the supervision of Bolson Construction."
A sharp exhalation of air escapes the general's nose. The soldier straightens out of fear—perhaps he offended the general.
Then, a short laugh resounds within the cramped office. "Typical scholar. Figures she'd be doing that. Thank you for your report. Dismissed."
"Sir," The soldier salutes before easing out of his posture. "Before I leave, the Princess sent a second letter." He reaches into his shirt beneath his armour, missing the raised eyebrow the general gives him. "It's addressed to you, asked to be kept secret by the courier. A Sheikah woman, sir."
"Ah, Paya, then." The general nods, holding a crisp white, gloved hand to the outstretched mail. "Very well, thank you for your discretion. I will read this now; tell the men posted outside I'm not to be disturbed."
The soldier salutes again and offers one last nod of respect before spinning on his heel and marching out of his general's office. Alone at last, the blonde man sighs, unclasps his sword—gently and reverently placing her next to his seat—and falls into a nearby chair, massaging his tired face as he reaches for a letter opener.
The face of the envelope is scratched in a script, a lovingly etched signatory of the General's name, scrawled easily and better than he ever could.
Link.
He smiles nostalgically at the familiar handwriting, running calloused fingers across the ink to catch a remnant of the warmth he dearly misses from her. He carefully cuts into the paper, delicately trying to avoid tearing it into the scrawl. With a huff, he grasps hold of the stack of letters and begins to read.
Dearest General,
How have things been within Castle Town? Has the construction of the Citadel gone according to plan? I hope you have been properly resting. An army cannot run off one man alone, after all.
I wish you could have come with me to Hateno. The home you purchased is so very lonely without you in it. However, I have taken it upon myself to place a bit of myself within your space. I hope you do not mind, but I replaced the drapes. Frankly, it was quite a steal of a deal. A new face within Hateno made her appearance as a 'clothier,' Cece. Quite gaudy cloths, truth be told, but I needed something, and you know very well that I cannot sew. The original set was so awfully dusty, and I do believe moths have eaten away at the cloth! While I recognize that it is yourhome first and foremost, I could not allow the building to fall apart at the seams.
Link smiles at her rambling sentences. He could listen to her talk for hours and read them just as much.
That would be unfair to you and your sacrifices to earn such a place where you could gain a reprieve.
Apologies, I do believe I am getting emotional. After our discussion, before heading our separate ways, I struggle to understand my feelings.
A grimace forms in place of his smile as he recalls their conversation. It was not pleasant, especially when she reacted. Link swore to protect her from any and all threats. He never believed he would be the one to make her cry.
I am slowly coming to terms with your decision. While I know you had never wanted status or power, I assumed your ascension to Royalty would just… happen. That was unfair of me.
I am sorry for how I reacted. I desperately hope you know I would never force you into something you do not want and that my love for you has not wavered an inch. I know how you worry. Just because we have a disagreement, does not mean I am ready to throw you aside.
Just yet.
On that note, I am still holding out hope (yes, I am pressuring you) that you will finally find the time in your all-too-busy schedule to propose. Properly. Your fumbling—albeit cute and very romantic—attempt at Kakariko was perfect and exactly what I had expected from you, I would still like to do another with a little more… precision. You can call it the make-up all you'd like and moan about me being a control freak; however, I am the Princess of this country, and my wedding will be exactly as I want it.
That means gathering your gems, forging your loops, and piercing your ears. I will not settle for any less, you can call me a traditionalist all you like, but my wedding will be exactly as I wanted it to be as a girl.
And I am getting tired of single (and not so single) women throwing themselves at you upon seeing your, as of yet, still unpierced ears.
Link winces, feeling the passive aggression through the paper. He reaches for his lobe, grasping the still-sore cartilage that refuses to heal. It was a botched job. He never expected the needle to snap.
At times when finesse is required, he curses his unmatched brute strength.
The letter meanders a bit more, speaking affection that Link carefully keeps close to his chest. They're private words, writings meant for him and Zelda alone.
With a heavy breath, he longingly places the stack of paper in his desk drawer and reaches for his good parchment. He saves the virgin white for his returning letters to her.
A ballpoint pen awaits him—a Sheikah invention—and he begins writing.
Lovely Lady,
The Citadel—which we've come to call Lookout Landing—has much more work to be done, but the men have a barrack, and I have an office. The walls are ramshackle. However, they will hold against an invasion. Castle Town's reconstruction is coming along fine, but I worry for the workers. Once Purah finishes her Skyview Tower project, I can finally sleep soundly.
Enough about the army and our provisioning woes. How is your construction with the school going? I heard from my Specialist that you are building one. I should have known you would work to educate the youth. All you ever do is learn. Have you been eating? Food aside from fruit cake, I mean. A proper meal is needed daily, and you cannot keep losing yourself in your studies for days on end.
Your magnificent posterior requires nourishment.
My home is your home. I bought it with you in mind, anyway. Do with it as you will. It requires a woman's touch.
My ears are pierced as of last night—I screwed up the process and snapped the needle with my Moblin hands. There is a gaping wound where my lobe used to be. Hopefully, it will be healed in time for our ceremony—and I plan to finish my gemstone gathering before the coming winter. I know you dream of a spring wedding, so I have begun my preparations.
Your smile is like the sun; knowing I have caused you any type of pain weighs heavily upon my heart. I know you wish for me to be your king, but I have only ever been a soldier. Your father was a man I know I will never measure up to, and my own is still someone I struggle with meeting the bare minimum.
You will be my queen. I will gladly be your husband, but I can never be your king. For that, I am sorry.
Link pauses, the pen hovering above the last line he writes. Through habit, he worries about letting the ink drip, cursing slightly before remembering that it's a ballpoint. The ink is inside—what an ingenious invention.
But it cannot write his words for him, unfortunately. He wishes he could extrapolate like she can, delve into the more mundane aspects of his daily life and make it interesting like she does. He always feels like he's doing Zelda a disservice when writing a letter to her—it is always short and to the point. Discussing his feelings has never come naturally, as much as he wishes it did.
With a sigh, he begins writing again.
I will see you soon. Hateno Garrison is one of my stops before reaching the Akkala Rangers stationed in Tarrey Town. Before I can head out to do that, I must fix Lookout Landing's discipline issue. My officer's here are jumping at one another's throats and it is going to get someone killed.
Forever yours,
General Link of the New Hyrule Army.
--
It has been two months since Link has seen anything other than the training ground and the sweaty backs of yet-broken recruits.
"Eyes up, Cora!" The general barks at a young woman who keeps staring at her feet. "Do you think a Bokoblin only reaches toe height?! Your helmet won't protect you from a smashed skull!"
"Y-yes, General!" The woman flinches but immediately takes his orders to heart. His call has shaken the rest of the new blood to their core because each one duels their dummy with renewed gusto.
"Falkner! Raise your shield!" Link paces up and down the parapet, staring at his recruits with scrutinizing eyes. "Heron, grip your sword! Do you want to lose it?!"
"No, General!"
"Then fix your grip before I take it away from you!" Back and forth, he paces—frustration at the lack of progress within this squadron mounting within the century-old soldier. "You will be the next generation of knights defending this fine country! Are you okay with spitting on the graves of those who died a century before protecting your grandmothers?!"
That puts a fire in each of their eyes. "No, General!" They all cry.
"Then put some Goddess damned effort into it! I want to see genuine progress by tomorrow, understood?!"
"Sir, yes, sir!"
The training goes on throughout the day. It's only when Link sees some of them swaying and flailing their swords in exhaustion does he deem it time for a break. Never once did any of them complain. They kept silent all through the gruelling slave driving their General forced upon them. Hyrule's new army is voluntary; there is no conscription. Complaining is something the Hero was expecting, but never once did these new soldiers ask for the easy way out.
He knows he can make knights out of them. They just need to feel the same way.
"Alright," Link drawls, putting on a facade of disappointment. The soldiers cease their training, heaving breaths echoing through the yard as they stare up at him. "You're all dismissed. Go eat and enjoy your free time. I expect you all up and ready by dawn break. No drinking unless you want to throw up during drills."
He offers them all one last look, pride at their exhausted bodies and bleeding palms brimming through his chest. The hands off approach, or 'tough love' is something Link has never been good at. It's so much easier to let everyone know where their flaws lie and how to fix them. But being a General was never a commitment he had expected to take. His father was the leader, the Knight-Commander of Hyrule's old military when it still had Royalty to protect.
Knight-Commander Aganok was the preliminary executor of the 'tough love' regiment. The man was caring, Link knew his father loved him, but he remembers seeing fathers and sons playing with one another in the small village his father Lorded. Link recalls the jealousy, the festering resentment that built up until he joined the military himself and saw his father truly work.
The man was not kind to his soldiers, but they were the best of the best.
It was only when he was knighted and posted as the Princess's bodyguard did he see the pride his father exuded in him. They talked, and Aganok explained himself and how his exterior emotions failed him after his mother died.
Link grimaces as he steps into the grand hall of the citadel, watching his men eat and laugh amongst themselves.
There are some memories Link wishes he could have never regained. The loneliness is harrowing.
They don't notice him. If they did, they'd jump to attention, and he'd have to ease them. That's one thing he likes about this regime learned from his father—the discipline built from it is immaculate. Heading into the officer's quarters, he catches the sound of yelling. An argument is brewing.
"You watch your mouth! That is my sister you're speaking about!" A lad cries. "Draw your sword!"
An arrogant laugh follows. "Absolutely! And when I thrash you, I'll visit your dear sister!"
Discipline. It seems the General thought too highly of himself.
Before long, the young men bellow a war cry and steel shrieks against leather. With a roar of his own, Link rushes forward. Time slows as he bounds between the chainmail-clad soldiers glaring at one another with murderous rage. The hero freezes them in place, stopping the angry duo without warning.
Both swords sit still in the air, unmoving like their masters.
"G-General?!" The one jeering about the other's sister groans with frozen lips. A ticking clock resounds through the silent air as the crowd around them stands tall. All mirth and enjoyment at the scene before them is gone instantly.
"Sir!" The other calls, barely above a strangled gasp. Sheikah magic is useful. Even without the Slate, Link managed to learn a few tricks.
He stomps forward, his glare forcing the soldier's own to fade out in a fizzled flame. He snarls, pointing to the men prepared for death. "Is this how my officers act when I am not around? Like the very beasts we face?" The General's hands fling out, gesturing to the entirety of the quarter. "And you all?! Not one thought to step in before blades were drawn?!"
Nobody moves to reply. Link's frown only grows deeper. With a clicking tongue, the man snaps his fingers. The hold around both warring soldiers reverts, sending them flailing to the ground in a clatter of steel and chain. "Up. The both of you."
Both jump to their feet, swaying slightly under the hardened stare of their commanding officer. Their fists pound against their chests as they stand at attention.
"What happened?" Link asks dryly, angling his shoulders and clasping his hands behind his back. "Explain yourselves."
"This… Blin-Sucker," Captain Jekal—Link recalls his name once he catches his face— side-eyes Captain Forester. His fists tighten, the contained rage blisters emphasizing within his crawling Tabanthan accent. "He made a pass at my sister when we were off duty, then proceeded to share inappropriate remarks about her bust."
Forester, to his credit, has the capacity to at least look guilty. Men as gifted as him in the looks department require temperance; otherwise, all it will cause is trouble.
"And thus, you challenged him to a duel for your sister's honour?" Link trails. "In the middle of this fine Citadel, which we worked so hard to build?"
"Y-yes, General."
"Very well. Gather your weapons and follow me."
"Sir?" Forester asks, following his orders but finding concern with what's coming.
"Everyone present will follow as well. It's time you all learned how to play nice with one another." Link marches forward without looking back at any of his captains. He feels a little sick at himself when they all step out into the common soldier barrack, and he feels proud, parading his officers like beaten puppies for all the 'lesser' men and women to see.
Link stands tall, his shoulders straight and head held high. He can feel the embarrassment of his officers like a wave from behind him.
"What's goin' on?" A man asks; Link never catches his face. "Those're the captains."
"Looks like a punishment." A woman with a Necluda twang whistles. "General don't play 'round."
Link marches his penitent Captain's onward, showing without words that any and all ranks are not out of his scrutinizing eye. He wants his army disciplined. No matter your status, you will conduct yourself like the pride of Hyrule you are meant to be.
—
Upon reaching the training ground once again, Link halts his following men with a stomp in the dirt. Immediately, they copy his stance, crashing their boot-clad feet into the hard ground with an echoing thud.
Link strides into the duelling pit—it's but a circle drawn into the grounds with hardwood—and un-hooks his sword and sheath from his back.
Methodically, he removes the dark, crested navy cap from his head and tightens the bleached gauntlets guarding his forearms.
"Draw your weapons." He calls, finishing his preparations and facing his soldiers with the Master Sword still sheathed and planted tip-first in the dirt. The general rests his palms against her regal pommel, staring passively at his penitent soldiers.
The men and women share glances of uncertainty as they take in what their General asks. To their credit, however, all of them bare their blades without a word.
"You will fight in pairs. Each of you, choose a partner of your preference." Link states, his body like a statue as he stares indifferently at his soldiers. All pair up, but when he spies Forester and Jekal moving away from one another, he finally makes a move.
"Ah." His voice freezes every single one as he points to the two men. "You will be partners. No discussion."
The two share a glance, narrowing their eyes before grunting and stomping over to one another. Like children, they avoid looking at each other, crossing their arms and huffing. Link can't stop the exhale of mirth from exiting his nose. This will be fun.
"Since the two of you have such a problem, you will go first."
With a huff and a vague smile appearing on Forester's face, he cracks his neck and saunters over to the duelling ground. Jekal follows closely behind, twirling his sword in anticipation of the duel.
"What are you doing?" Link asks as they begin to face one another. They look over in confusion, surprised at the interruption.
"Sir? Jekal asks. "Are we not duelling?"
"Not each other," Link states, loosening out his arms and raising the Master Sword—still sheathed—with one arm. "You will fight me. Otherwise, it isn't a punishment, now is it?"
Maybe, perhaps, it's a little cruel, but when Link spies the shock, then fear etch across each of his captain's faces, he can't stifle his grin.
The sight of which, by his men and women, drives them even further into despair.
"Well?" He asks, gripping his sword and, in one smooth motion, bringing her to rest upon his lean shoulder from the cold hard ground. "Make your moves. That's an order."
--
"Sloppy." The general remarks, slipping under a well-aimed blow only worsened by the poor footwork utilized by the attacker. The captain poorly capitalized on Link's encroachment, his boots made of iron as he made his strike. He whaps the flat of his royal blue and gold scabbard into Forester's open back, sending the man flying into the dirt. "Balance your feet—move with your strike! Standing still is death!"
Link is about to delve further into his explanation, using this as a learning experience. However, the wry grin stretched across his foe's face brings the General pause. Forester is not a sore loser but would never smile at a loss. He also is not a poor enough swordsman to make such a mistake—Link would know; he vetted the man himself. All of his Captains were.
They've been fighting for hours now, switching between pairs all throughout the evening to allow everyone a chance to get their punishment. All of his officers are bruised, and beaten, but none look ready to throw in the towel as they discuss amongst themselves their next strategy for standing against their General. Pride swells anew within Link. He knows his plan is working.
Thus, he chalks up Forester's poor footwork to exhaustion. His officers have been working hard. They even seem to have drawn up onlookers, rank-and-file soldiers off-duty come to watch the fights and their unbeatable General.
The Hylian's ears twitch, thrusting him out of his reverie—the sensory organs trained through years of life-or-death battles where a mistake means failure. Link whips around, locking his sheathed blade against the cold steel of Jekal's.
The realization of what just happened hits the General like a Lynel's hammer, drawing out elation from within his chest. They tricked him.
"Well done!" Link congratulates with a laugh. "Finally, you fight as one! That was a perfect execution of misdirection."
Forester growls as he stumbles back to his feet, twirling his sword in anticipation as Jekal jumps back from the blade lock. Finally, both men take each other's flank, covering their blind spots. "That was my fault. I thought we had him."
"We'll get him this time." Jekal offers lightly, bumping his shoulder against his partner.
"Next time." Link smiles, bowing his head as he flips his sword and grabs the blade of her sheath. "It's nearing midnight. You all still have drills to run tomorrow, remember?"
"What?!" Serine cries, a woman from Hateno, if he recalls correctly. She steps forward, her bruised face and dirt-caked tabard telling stories of many failed attempts to beat him. "I was up next with Kido! We had a whole plan thought up, General!"
"Keep it in mind. I promise this will not be the last time we'll have bouts like this. I enjoyed it just as much as you all, surprisingly." Link chuckles. "This one, however, was meant to be a lesson. Look at you, discussing tactics like a true unit. Camaraderie. You look like the leaders you're meant to be."
Jekal and Forester especially share a glance, one of shocked understanding. Surprise, to be sure.
"You cannot allow yourselves to succumb to petty disputes. The men and women beside you will be at your side in battle, and you must be able to trust them to watch your back."
Another smile graces his lips as he takes in each of his officers' faces, one that finally reaches his eyes. "I am proud of you." He glances at the crowd of regular soldiers, watching the bout close with disappointment. "All of you. Dismissed!"
--
Dearest General,
You have no idea how happy I am to hear you have pierced your ears, I am positively vibrating with excitement at seeing them! I do hope they healed without a scar. if not, I will fix it for you.
I am pleased to hear Lookout Landing is coming along without any hitches, but I still believe you should find the time to rest. That means no more late-night duels with your naughty captains, General. Yes, I heard about that. Paya and your Specialist have become pals, you see. I also heard you fixed your discipline issue.
I always knew you were a natural leader. I hope you can someday come to see yourself as one, too. Your father would be so very proud of you, even if you say you only meet his bare minimum of standards.
Remember, becoming General was your idea. I was fine with Hyrule no longer having a standing military, but you saw differently. While before, I found the idea barbaric; you have done so much more for our people by creating a presence of strong men and women they can look to for support and protection. The soldiers in Hateno have only ever distinguished themselves with loyalty and respect. You have raised a fine army, my love. Dare I say, it may surpass the previous generation with more time and development.
On another note, Purah showed me a pictograph of you at work. She mentioned she stopped by to begin the development of the Skyview Tower in Lookout Landing you requested.
I must say, choosing your Royal Guard uniform as your standard uniform is quite titillating. I always thought you looked ever so dashing in that garb—your beard has to go, however. Perhaps one day, maybe soon, you can ravish me—
"General?" Captain Kyran—an older man from Hebra—raps against the door to Link's office. "Chief Impa is here to see you."
"Ah—uh," Link jumps, hastily closing the letter he was earnestly reading and stuffing it into his desk. Self-consciously, he scratches the scruff of his rough face. He was starting to like it. "Send her in!"
Damn it, Impa! She could always sense whenever he wanted his solitude.
The devil herself saunters into his stuffy office, her wide-brimmed hat tinkling with the crouched movement of her shuffling crawl. She's a tiny, decrepit old woman now, but he distinctly remembers how she was a century before. A younger sister. He can't think of her otherwise, even after she eclipsed him in age, and a derisive chuff escapes his lips as the door behind the woman slides shut.
"You have the worst timing, you know that?" he grunts, losing all sense of formality the minute they're alone. He hops to his feet before she reaches his desk, grabbing a pillow for her to sit on. "You always pick the worst opportunity to bother me."
"When the opportunity arises to be a thorn in your side, who am I to neglect it?" The woman lets out a huff as Link places her seat on the wood floor and kneels upon it graciously. He follows suit with her, sitting cross-legged in front of the Sheikah Chief. "You grew a beard, I see. You know Zelda loathes facial hair."
"She told me to shave it," The general pouts. "I was hoping I could convince her otherwise, but Purah took my picture and showed her." a teasing smile crosses his face. "I distinctly remember you loving when I grew it out."
Impa lets out a chuckle, shaking her head at his antics. When they were younger, he remembers a girl from whom Paya gained all her looks. Mannerisms, too, because boy, could Impa blush when he teased her. "Please, I'm too old for you now. Besides, you cannot blame me for holding such a spark for you. I only married my late husband when I fully understood you could possibly be gone forever."
All mirth leaves his body as the reminder of their situation kicks in. Impa is one of his only ties to his past, who he was before. Everyone else is either dead, old and decrepit—Purah— or Zelda herself. He wonders if he's the same man or simply an imposter wearing the previous hero's face. Perhaps the true hero died, and this Link is simply the replacement—born from the Shrine of Resurrection as a backup plan against the Calamity. Impa must have caught onto his whirling emotions because she whacks him lightly on his knee.
"Do not delve down that road again. You remember now, that is all that matters." Her outstretched palm grips his leg, and she fixes him with a knowing stare. "When you first awakened, you had me worried. Your mutism, the lack of communication. For whatever it's worth, I am glad you find yourself in a position where you can freely speak without worry. Your work as General has done wonders for your spirit, Link."
He feels small as she speaks to him but recognizes their shared past. Even as an old woman nearing senile, Impa has always just been Impa. Talking to her is easier than most others. Zelda is one of those close few.
"I… was afraid," The hero forces out, like admitting his fear was more struggle than facing the Calamity itself. "I didn't know who I was, where I was, and why I was so driven to save a woman I didn't know. I couldn't trust my voice."
"Well, I hope you come to recognize your own self-worth." Impa drawls, patting his knee. "Regardless, reminiscing is not why I have come to you today. There is talk of a burgeoning community within the Sheikah, our Zelda's scholars, and your soldiers. They've come to call themselves the 'Zonai Survey Team.'"
"Zonai?" Link leans forward, repeating the familiar name with his own lips. "That strange civilization with ruins in Faron?"
"Indeed," Impa nods. "My little Papaya has found interest at a recently uncovered ruin in Necluda. Mind you; she never finds interest in anything." A smirk stretches across her aged and limp cheeks. "Aside from you, of course. She truly is my doppelganger."
"Right," Link agrees. "And what do you wanna do about it?"
"Nothing." Impa retorts, shrugging her teeny shoulders. "If anything, I believe we should encourage the development. The Sheikah have long since been the right hand of the Royal Family, and your Military has been developing into a fine arm of the law. Alongside the Scholars Purah and Zelda have following at their heels, I believe this Survey Team would be a good chance to form a connection between branches."
Link nods along, finding the wisdom between the aged Chief's words. "I agree. I'll see about sending a detachment to… where are they stationed?"
"Kakariko. Paya is organizing the first expedition." Impa beams with pride. "Such a bright young girl. It pleases me to see her delve out of her shell."
"Are you okay with my soldiers entering Kakariko?" Link asks. "I would never want to overstep, Impa."
Kakariko is an ancient and closely protected home of the Sheikah. It has been for generations. Its location was a guarded secret until recently, even during the days of yore when Hyrule still had a governing body. Karariko never had soldiers stationed. He was the first knight in Hyrulian history to see its magnificent vista in person and that was only because he was attached to Zelda at the hip. He would never even consider breaking any sense of trust developed with them, especially after everything the Shiekah have done for him, personally.
"Ah, pumpernickel." The woman waves. "You trained them. I trust your faith in who you choose to come along. Frankly, they're far from the boisterous and overly ambitious thugs Bosphoramus had under oath." She spits his name like a curse, and Link has to force himself not to correct her out of trained habit. Even a century later, he carries loyalty to a man who sent him to his death and forced his daughter to pray futilely when she could have found alternatives. Goddess, that was a trying time for him. Impa seems to catch onto his reaction and clicks her tongue. "I cannot understand your loyalty. He was a cruel man and a failure of a king. We gave him so many opportunities to prepare, and he squandered all of them. Queen Hyla would have never done what he had."
"He was still Zelda's father," Link forces out, agreeing with her but still finding the need to defend him. "And my liege. Whatever problems we have with him now, we must understand his position. The man was overworked and terrified. Nobody could have stopped the Calamity. Queen Hyla passed so suddenly, and her counsel would not only have assisted the King but our Princess." He implores the woman with his eyes, desiring to reason with the angry Sheikah, who cannot rid herself of a vendetta with a man who died a century ago. "Remember. Zelda lost a mother at the same time we lost our Queen. King Bosphoramus lost a wife."
"You stopped the Calamity." Impa sharply retorts. "You returned our Princess. You saved Hyrule."
"I had the sword—"
"He had an army, Link." Impa closes darkly. "And he forced his daughter to pray every opportunity he had rather than prepare. You've done more for Hyrule in two years than he did in his entire reign. You should be King."
"We are not discussing this again, Impa." A warning flashes across Link's face as he straightens abruptly. "I can't take the crown. I won't."
She takes him at his word, surprisingly. Narrowing her eyes but not pushing the subject. Instead, Impa sighs. "Very well. I will never accept your answer, but I will respect it. It has gotten too heated in here."
"Yes." Link pushes out, trying to exhale his frustration toward the old woman. He loves her dearly, but Goddess, she gets on his nerves. "Would you like some tea?"
Impa breathes in loudly, her crimson eyes shut and exhales heavily before she accepts. It seems she also needed to center herself, and she managed to do so with startling speed.
Link gets to work, jumping to his feet and over to his pot and stove. His office has a stove because, of course it does. What if he gets hungry while working? Finding the silence deafening, the hero makes small talk. Surprising, yes, but even the silent hero can find a tense quiet awkward. Especially with someone he cares about.
"So, how many men would you want in Kakariko? I'll spare as little or as many as you'd like."
Impa hums as she considers his words. "A small squad or two with leaders you trust."
He raises an eyebrow, finding the situation a perfect opportunity for his project.
"That works perfectly, actually. I have a lineup of recruits I'm grooming for Knighthood. Getting them out in the field will be a good experience and I recently started training one of my captains for Knight-Commander." Link nods to himself as he pours water into his kettle and sets it onto the stove. "I wish to return to the Castle Dungeon when they're ready, and have them earn their shields like we did before."
Impa passively nods along with his words, allowing him to voice his thoughts. "A fine tradition to bring back. I always did like how you had to earn your place at the table. It never mattered about birthright."
Link chuffs through his nose. "Yeah. It's hard to think that my dad was an Earl and I was nobility. It never felt that way growing up."
Everyone had to earn their place in his fathers home. You were never given anything, aside from yummy food and a warm bed. His little sister was always such a miser, pinching rupees for whatever cosmetic or dress she saw that caught her eye. Amongst her friends, she was always the most ruthless when it came to rupee saving. He remembers the way she'd assist in any odd job she could—rounding cuccos in the fall to toiling the fields in spring. The girl was driven for money, never asking father for even a green.
Goddess, he hasn't thought of Aryll in years. Did she escape the Calamity? Does he have grandnieces and nephews somewhere in Hyrule?
…does she have a grave that befits her kindness?
Link grimaces while the tea begins to bubble, Impa's words fading into the background. What a cruel twist of fate for an elder brother to outlive his baby sister. Coming to terms with his father's death was easier; Link allowed himself to process it. He prepared for it, Aganok was a warrior, and he was adamant that he would not die in his bed. Aryll, however, was a princess in everything but rank—such heart, such drive, such… life.
All he did was push her inevitable death away from anywhere near the forefront of his mind.
"Link?" Impa drawls, breaking him out of his reverie. "Are you alright?"
"Hmm? Yeah," The man jerks, realizing the tea kettle is screeching. He takes it off the burner and gives his head a shake. "Sorry. Got… lost in the past."
"Would you like to talk about it?"
"Yes—maybe." Link bites his lip, grabbing cups from his drawer and placing one in front of the woman, then himself. "I-I dunno. I don't think I can—not yet, at least."
"We will find the time," She remarks, allowing the General to pour out her tea. "I will always be here to listen, you know that."
"Yeah," He nods, grabbing his cup and swigging. The burning liquid scalds his tongue. It's exactly what he needs. "Yeah. Thank you."
Heya. What'd you think?
A lot of the things that happen in this are vague, but that's on purpose. I didn't wanna go in-depth on the duel with the Captains because I felt like, in the grand scheme, it was unimportant. This was done to set up Link as a character, a leader.
I want you to want him to become King. I want him to be king, just like everyone else. I hope you can pick up on his reason why he won't; I didn't exactly hide it, lol.
Anyway, I hope you like this. The next chap'll come soon.
Adieu.