Link had known this was coming, but he would have really liked to be wrong.
He crashed down on the chair that was indicated to him - a stupidly expensive looking stained polished wood and red velvet number located in a stupidly expensive looking parlor with tapestries and everything. The chair was stupidly comfortable. He crossed his arms, and scowled.
He'd been woken up to go meet 'Princess Zelda', the one who would supposedly show everyone that the Royal Family was still the key to Hyrule's salvation with just a bit of help from their hero. He was still barely recovered enough from his stint in the dungeon to walk for more than a few minutes without feeling like he'd run for hours, and yet he'd been rushed out of bed to come to this obnoxious sitting room, just so he could meet whoever they'd dug up to play Zelda's part, and she wasn't even here yet.
"Did she get lost on the way from the Dark World or something?" he grumbled.
The guards ignored him. He was cut short from ranting on about how 'Zelda' wasn't even here yet by sudden trumpets right outside the double doors to the main hall. The doors opened to let in two overdressed women followed by a third one that managed to make the first two look like paupers.
She was a blond young woman with heavy court makeup on and her hair in an elaborate updo involving braids and a bun, and a few strands of hair stiffly curling around her face. She had a white gold tiara adorned with a whole bunch of diamonds and sapphires, and she wore a dress that seemed to be composed of at least two dozen layers of silk in various shades of blue from nearly white to nearly black, elaborately cut to allow each layer to be seen in one place or another: it was more sculpture than dress. That was overlayed further with a jewel covered layer of clear gauze. The woman met Link's eye and immediately lifted her nose and curled her upper lip.
Link snorted and then laughed out loud. It wasn't malicious as such, the lady just looked too much like a ridiculously exaggerated caricature of an aristocratic woman for him to be able to help himself. His hilarity was brutally cut short by the sudden sensation that nearly every muscle in his body, down to the tiny ones moving his toes and even including his tongue, was painfully cramped. He cried out in shock and pain and found himself sliding off his chair to the floor. The pain stopped almost as quickly as it had started.
Someone cleared their throat. Link noticed his eyes were closed and opened them, getting up off the floor at the same time. He had to support himself on the stupidly expensive chair to successfully pull himself up.
The trumpets played again, the customary little royal announcement tune. The players than lowered their instruments and both cried out in perfect practiced harmony: "Her Royal Highness Princess Zelda!"
Link, now back on his feet, snorted. "Puh-lease," he said. "She's as much the Princess as I am."
His muscles cramped again, even more painfully than before. He screamed, unable to help it, and his legs gave out, leaving him sprawled and twitching on the floor by the time the pain passed.
"As of yesterday, I am the adopted daughter of the King."
A woman's voice. Link realized his eyes were screwed shut again, so he opened them and looked. He was still on the floor, but getting up again seemed like it would be an awful lot of effort; he didn't bother. The sorceress who'd been introduced as Princess Zelda was looking down at him with a sneer.
"You may have figured out by now that I will not tolerate disrespect," she said. "I suggest you start behaving yourself. As a start, you will kneel and apologize to me."
Link tried to get up with the intention of staring her in the face to tell her she was crazy as a keese in a bottle if she thought there was any chance of that happening, but his arms and legs refused to support his weight and he just fell flat to the floor again.
It immediately felt as though he'd fallen in lava. There was no cramping sensation this time: instead, it felt like he was literally on fire. Again unable to help it, he screeched and thrashed, vainly trying to get away from the pain.
He was out of breath and completely spent by the time it stopped. "Can't they... send YOU... against... monsters?" he gasped.
She tutted. "Sorcery hasn't worked on them," she said. "We wouldn't need you if it had, obviously. In the interest of time, I will show far more mercy that you deserve and consider you appropriately punished for your behavior so far."
She had walked up right next to him, so Link was quite literally sprawled at her feet right now. He managed to roll over partway to look up at her but couldn't think of anything to say.
She narrowed her eyes. "I will not push generosity so far as to not expect at least some show of gratitude for my leniency," she warned. "You will stop scowling and you will thank me."
"Gra...?" Link didn't bother finishing the word, it had too many syllables to be worth the effort. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, focusing on relaxing his eyebrows so as to stop frowning. "Princess Zelda," he said, as clearly as he could. He couldn't manage much more than a panting mutter, he was still out of breath from the fire and the cramps, and he hadn't had that much energy to start with this morning.
"Yes?" she asked.
He opened his eyes and met hers, still focusing on keeping his expression neutral.
"Go fuck a lynel," he said.
She lifted her nose higher, her mouth twisting in an ugly snarl, and signaled to one of her maids, who approached and deposited a package next to him. Link, who had expected pain again, stared at Zelda, confused.
"You and I are to go fetch your sword tomorrow morning," she said. "These are your clothes for the occasion, and you are to consider them my personal gift to you. I have been informed that they were made a few weeks ago, before we found you, so I would assume that they are sized for a normal person. In other words, they will likely be too big for a pathetic shrimp like you. A tailor will be sent to you to adjust them. Guards."
The guards all snapped to attention.
"Inform the King that as per his orders, I have met the Chosen One and presented him with his clothes."
Link was just starting to wonder if he was actually getting away with his last comment when pain took him over again. It felt like both fire and cramps this time. He never found out how long he screamed: everything went black.
Link found himself genuinely grateful when he was steered to a different carriage than the one carrying the King and the brand new Princess, the following morning. He was dearly hoping the sword ceremony would be the last time he was ever required to see the sorceress.
To his surprise, he was still feeling as weak as a kitten. Significantly worse, in fact, than he had before he'd met the newly established Princess Zelda. He'd come to on the floor of the sitting room after her last attack, right where he'd passed out and lying in a puddle of his own vomit. The tailor had been in the room already, waiting. Link had cooperated with the measurements mostly for the sake of getting it over with, and had then been allowed to retire back to his room. He'd crawled back into his bed and had had to be shaken awake when the morning came. He'd had a funny taste in his mouth, he assumed from throwing up, and he would have much preferred to stay asleep.
He was wearing his tailored uniform now, which had turned out to be a green version of the livery of the King's personal servants, complete with high heeled boots and a beret. The green version was ugly, and being dressed as the King's personal servant was beyond humiliating. He'd caught a glance of Zelda as she climbed into the King's carriage, and it was at least a little bit comforting to see that she was wearing a plain white prayer dress and that judging by her expression, she absolutely hated it.
The ride was uneventful, or at least uneventful enough for Link to sleep through most of it. He was shaken awake again when they arrived. The guards that were riding with him ushered him out and he was walked through a crowd to the Master Sword's Display, by way of a cordoned off path. He noted dimly that the velvet rope that used to isolate the sword's little platform was gone: a much larger area was now closed off to the public.
Link tried to focus his eyes on the sword and found he couldn't. It was difficult to focus on anything. Despite sleeping on the way, he was even more tired than when he'd first been woken up.
He tried to look around at the assembled company. Flanking him were the King and his supposed Princess. He couldn't see either of them clearly either, his eyes seemed locked on to something further away and he didn't have the energy to do anything about it.
"Link," the King said with so much fake kindness that the incongruity of it drew a giggle out of Link. "Chosen one. The people would surely like to see you take possession of your birthright... perhaps you could face them as you do?"
That required walking around the sword's platform. Link would have preferred not to, but arguing or resisting felt like too much effort so he made his feet move until the sword was between himself and the crowd. He considered himself lucky he didn't fall: the world was not only blurry, but had started to sway, as well.
He was now facing the King and Zelda. She was kneeling because the Princess was supposed to be praying at this point. He giggled again because there was no way that woman ever prayed, except maybe to demons.
"Go on, Chosen One," the King said. "Draw your sword."
He sounded a bit impatient. Link took a deep breath again and pulled the sword out. It came just as easily as before.
The King handed him something long, blue with a bunch of gold stuff on it.
"A sheath for the Master Sword, Hero," the King said. "Allow the holy blade to rest in it until it's needed."
Link frowned in confusion for a second before the meaning of the words pushed through the fog in his head. He was supposed to put the sword in that sheath. He took the sheath, painstakingly lined up the sword with the opening, pushed the sword and missed. As it turned out, not being able to see made lining things up a bit tricky. The thought made him giggle. He tried again, using his hands as well this time to locate where the sword needed to go, and successfully sheathed the Master Sword. His training kicked in at that point and he successfully attached the sheath to his belt after just two unsuccessful attempts and without even needing to be asked. He chuckled at how stupidly hard it all was right now, it was silly that it was hard at all, he was usually good at this stuff.
Someone pushed on his shoulder, encouraging him forward, back towards the carriage. Link's legs were shaking by now, and it was a struggle to keep his eyes opened. The crowd was a blur, and he didn't notice the commotion until the King's voice rang in his ears.
"Guards!" the King barked. "Let her through! What are you thinking? Of COURSE she may see him!"
Link looked around, confused. Next thing he knew, his mother was hugging him. He hugged back weakly and dimly wondered if he was being sent home. He would have liked that.
"They have you drugged," his mother whispered in his ear. "You're not just tired, they drugged you so you wouldn't make trouble."
Link blinked in surprise. Why would they drug him? He was way too tired to make trouble anyway. He giggled at the thought.
"I love you," his mother continued in a normal voice. "I love you so much, and I always will. Please, please don't forget that."
He felt her slip something in his pocket. He wanted to ask what it was, but he was too weak to talk. He was so tired, and hugging her was so comfortable, that he was dozing off. He tried to at least tell her he loved her too, but the very thought of pushing words out was exhausting.
She briefly hugged him tighter, and he felt her cheek against his; it was wet, as if she was crying. And then she was gone. Link was guided back to the carriage and from that point, knew no more.