Authors note: I have decided to go ahead and post the chapter even if the site is partially down. I have no idea when things will return to normal. It isn't fair to the readers to wait because doesn't have their stuff together. So, that being said, do let me know in the comments if you are receiving notifications. I hope that bit is at least still working.

Second, it has come to my attention that some have asked when we will be returning to the present plot of the story and what I can tell you is this- I originally wanted to wrap up all these memories so there would be far less confusion going forward. I was going to return to the current narrative after around four or so more chapters but as the readers of my story I am at your service to entertain you. So, if you all would rather me flip back to the present story and sprinkle memories intermittently, I will do so. Let me know your thoughts.

Lastly, the story will be taking a slightly more mature direction, but don't fear, it will very much remain Zelda-esque as far as fun fantasy goes. There will be no rated X material, so don't worry about that. Just a bit more mature themes and language. I hope this doesn't bother anyone but it's how I envisioned the story unfolding.

Chapter

Why we failed pt. 8

Red Tape

Back in the heart of the city the Red Inn was in a stir. Girls clamored and fussed as one of its highest patrons remained shut in his private quarters, which he paid top rupee for. Outside his door in the hall stood a Dragoon soldier, attempting to brush past the Madam of the establishment and instill order. With tact he took his next actions very carefully, his fate depended on it. So, he knocked gently on the door where whispers of seduction and rude happenings could be heard behind its wooden walls.

"My Lord Arasmus, I'm sorry to disturb you but I believe we should be making our way to her highness."

"Bugger off! I'll go when I'm damn good and ready, alright? Fucks, sake Caspin, you never know when to let me be and shut up. If you weren't my best sword, I'd throw you off from the tallest tower of the Serpent's keep. See if I don't!"

His subordinate continued to tip toe around the situation and talk through the door. "I'm sorry my liege, but I must insist. It's your father's orders."

The young lord rolled his eyes and pulled away from his seductive distraction laying in front of him on a plump feather-down pillow. "My father this, my father that, always with my father. I swear to Hylia, don't you have anything else better to do than pester me like a fly? There's a whole capital to explore and here you are, as usual, buzzing in my ear. Give it a rest already. There will be plenty of time for pleasantries. The bloody festival is for three days. She isn't going anywhere."

"My apologies, Lord, but your father commands it with this parchment."

Enough of your whimpering apologies, Fine, I'll come. I lost heart of this anyway and you spoiled the mood." The uncouth lord said, before ushering to the pillow maid on the loveseat. "You stay there where you are though. I'll be back to finish what we started, but for now, I need to make myself presentable. After all, I'm meeting a princess this evening."

"Oh, my lord, how gallant." The brunette girl he bedded perked up, breasts bare through the thin satins she wore, supple as she seductively charmed the extravagant pillow she nestled between her legs as if it were him for another bout. "I sure hope you don't forget about me and our time together. I do hear she is quite the pretty flower. I fear you may lose all memory of me once trapped in her eyes."

The wet between her thighs soiled the cushions and the room ranked of mingling, overpriced wine from distant vineyards of faraway lands and cheap perfume. The lord paid no mind while he stood in front of the mirror, fixing himself up, tying his waist belt over the soldier's uniform he wore.

"I would never." He quipped back over his shoulder, strapping the last of his attire. With a phony compliment he gave a crooked smile. He may have been more handsome than most, but his words were as poisonous as the viper emblazoned on his house's sigil. "Seldom is nectar as sweet as you my dear, your tongue and—"

"-My tongue is it?" the pillow maid coyly interrupted, defiantly with a sacrilegious giggle. "I always figured it was my-"

"-Yes, yes, and perhaps, when I see her," he reassured with a mischievous smile smirk of his own to match. "I'll let her have a taste of you on my lips, my sweet. How would you like that? The honor alone...I doubt she knows the taste of honey the way I do. But alas, maybe I can teach her to heel like I taught you to do so well? Who knows, it may come natural to her. After all, you learned so well on your knees, maybe she can too? I hear princesses can be the delightful creatures to subdue. She will be my greatest conquest."

"You're bad..." The girl leisurely rolled around on the bed.

"Well, we all need trophies," he mused with a slick laugh as he continued to freshen up in the mirror. "And, I've never been one to go to sanctuary. I don't presume to be anything other than what you see standing before you now."

The maid was taken aback, feigning surprise. "I know, I know, how unlordly," he continued. "But rumor has it, our very own high priest frequents this humble abode, same as I. So, who is the real charlatan here?"

The lady of the sheets smirked back, almost relishing the thought. "I won't tell if you won't."

"No, I don't think that you would considering I would be surprised if you could even walk after our dance this morning ." He laughed again; this time more obnoxious than the last.

"Only if you want me to—"

"In due time."

The girl sat up, cradling the soft spread of colorful sheets up to her bosom. "But tell me, why do you visit my bed chambers? You can get any girl in the kingdom and yet, you seem to always find your way back into my arms? Why is that? The truth?" her eyes danced mischievously, sincerely curious.

"The truth?" he said, sucking in a breath as if he had to recollect all the mysteries of the universe while he straightened the crimson serpent on his tabard. But, just as soon as he did so, it came to him as water rolls off a duck's back. "Why, because you taste so sweet, that's why my dear."

"Liar—" the girl giggled.

"You calling your lord a liar?"

"Is there anyone else—"

The door knocked again. This time more fervently. "My lord?"

"Damn it, Caspin, what did I say?"

"I know, my liege but I must insist."

"Fine, take me to this bitch! I'm ready as I'll ever be, I guess!" he roared, his voice an amalgamation of rancor and lust. "Let's discern if she's indeed the jewel my father incessantly prattles about!" He said, swinging the door open. The echoed cries and moans from nearby rooms entwined with his cruel laughter filled the lavished hallway. Turning one last time to look at the girl lying on the sheets in his room, he spoke a final word on the matter. "Sorry my dear, I must leave you now, but don't worry, in three days' time you'll be sharing that bed, you hear me? And be sure to save her the feather pillow. We mustn't disappoint a princess."

Outside the Inn, his horse was already saddled, and his men gathered around, also taking to their reins as well. Caspin spoke up beside him, to clear his throat. "M'lord, I apologize—"

"Save it. I already know what you're going to say."

"It's not only your father that is worried. But rumor has it that there is another."

"You mean another suitor? Who else could possibly pretend to challenge me?"

The captain gripped the saddle horn and glanced over both soldiers before speaking to his liege who sat atop his own horse beside. "The Illiastar lordling who keeps her and her maids company from time to time. The outspoken younger brother," he said to clarify.

There were after all, two Illiastar lords in who will be in attendance today. "Our own scouts had him followed a while back and let us just say, he keeps a strange distance in regard to the princess. Not to mention, after a careful inspection of his quarters, we have found writings written in his own hand. A detailed confession of his feelings he harbors for her, though she is yet to know."

The young lord of Draene, blinked, amazed, and almost confused why any of this mattered. After all, nobody could compete against him. "The scrawny court poet? You mean to tell me all this rushing this morning was because you fear the slick tongue of a circus performer who's never fought a day in his life? Has being in my service for so long lowered your opinion of me to such a degree that you come to me with this gossip as if it needs my attention?"

"Not at all m'lord. It's just—"

"-I must admit that songbird is quite the nuisance, tis true, but he is only just that, I assure you. It's his older brother I must keep my eye on."

"And about him m'lord. You'll be pleased to know we found he has no interests in the girl and that in fact, well..."

"Well, what? Out with it."

"Let's just say he prefers to keep the company of boys from the training yard than maids. Though this is believed to be a heavily guarded secret of their house, we found it. They were clever at hiding it but you know us m'lord. We can uncover any truth."

"Who would have guessed that twist of fate?" Arasmus rolled his eyes, somewhat disgusted but also pleased by the revelation. "So, the buzzing bee who sings all day has a taste for flowers and his warrior brother rather temper young steel. They make this almost too easy."

"So, now that you know, what are you going to do about the poet?"

"Nothing. He shames himself, his family, and his class by prancing about the way he does. No Hylian who presumes to have any honor should ever lower themselves to that of a common court mummer. He should leave the squawking of songs to the Rito if ever has a hope of contending against me for her hand." The lord said with a smirk gazing off to the yonder distance where the castle stood atop the hill.

It was as if he could peer through the wisp of white clouds that rolled over her keep window even now. His prize just waiting to be claimed. "No, I think you'll come to find that by this time on the morrow, I'll have our pretty bird eating out from the palm of my hand. No songs necessary." With a click of his tongue perched atop his black stallion he led them off to the castle.

The meadow was abuzz with excitement as the residents of Hyrule, from the nobility to the common folk, gathered for the festivities. Overcast skies and a light drizzle created a serene backdrop to the menagerie of activity. Grey mist hovered over the verdant grass meadows, forming a majestic sea of undulating hills and boundless prairies. Scattered across were myriad pavilions and tents, barricades for melees, erected watcher stands for the lists, horse stables, and beside them, training yards. Under illustrious pavilions, lords and ladies extravagantly dressed conversed in hushed tones, while the common folk huddled beneath their quaint fixtures. Merchants hollered their wares among stalls, and hopefuls from all around queued to sign up for the tournament.

In the epicenter of this vibrant mosaic of life stood the Queen's Pavilion, the locale for the main feast hall, where the night would unfold in the presence of the Royal Family and distinguished guests. Amidst this tumultuous symphony of colors and echoes was Link, merely sixteen, engaged in a heated discussion with the tournament organizer. His squire, young and unseasoned, looked on, his breath held in anticipation.

A trumpet's resonant blow interrupted their exchange, causing all to halt and admire the arriving nobility procession. Banners of various Lords fluttered in the wind as they flowed in a seamless stream, their bearers parading in carriages and wheelhouses of varying scales. Even the massive Mammoderms and desert Dunadaries from foreign lands Link and Zelda marveled at earlier also made an appearance following at the rear of the parade of heraldry. At the vanguard was the opulent wheelhouse of the King, where no doubt she would be as well.

At the front, the princess's illustrious coach was flanked on both sides by men who Link aspired to be, guardsmen. And the one leading them atop a noble grey stallion was none other than his father. Sir Tye of the King's Guard. The highest-ranking soldier among them. A very distinct honor granted to someone of low birth. Link aspired that one day he too could earn his stripes through many dedicated years of unwavering service.

As his gaze wandered over the flow of riders, banners, wheelhouses and streamers he and his young compatriot both noticed that each of the three high lordships also came with a retinue of their own household guard to follow after the royals. Directly following the princess's procession marched Starsguard men, charged with protecting their liege lord of Illiastar. Not far behind came the notorious Dagger Dragoons of Draene, clad in their gruesome, black armor and finally, came the Seascape Rangers of the Marshlands being led by their liege of Tarble, Lord Talin. The Rangers in particular wore armor that seemed more outfitted for a long hunt or sea voyage, than for war, yet Link knew they were just as lethal as any warriors of the kingdom. Every boy in the kingdom from Hera to Hateno knew that they were prime experts in the Hylian Long bow, rivaled only by the Rito when it came to the mastery of archery.

It was then Link's attention was drawn to a conversation behind him in line, focusing on the immaculate armor of the Illiastar troops. "Have you ever seen such a pretty army in all your life?" Said a man who shook his head in disbelief that for once, rumors were right. And they were. Their armor by far was the most grand and haughty of them all.

Each donned a pristine, white cloak that lacked any crease or wear, adorned with sparkling gold trimmings. If that wasn't regal enough, their sleek, silver pauldrons atop their shoulders were so polished they shined even in the shade of the cloudy sky. The earlier rain had left perfect beads of dewdrops atop them that glistened back like ornate little diamonds when gazed upon. Link and his squire couldn't help but noticed their breastplates were also a grade above the rest and their tabards were decorated with the finest stitching that rupees could buy. Each man wore a distinct accentuation of an embroidered pale stallion charging through three golden rays of light. Their house banner.

Another hopeful from an adjacent line muttered back, "Hell, I've never even seen a Knight dressed so pretty in all my life. That there lads is a living breathing song of a man."

"You blind fool, that's no mere knight, that's the Lord of Roses, Sylvan Illiastar. See that pretty gold flower blossomed on his brooch?" Clarified the first man. Everyone watched the liege lord of Illiastar stride through atop a pale palfrey. His attire was above all the rest in formation and his platinum blond hair danced atop his shoulders as he cantered to the front of the march, cape fluttering behind him like a cloud chasing a golden sun. From what Link could surmise he had to be in his twenties and aside from the plated armor he wore, he did appear to be quite broad shouldered. A formidable man if Link had to guess.

"That man has the finest weapons and armor in all the realm from what I hear."

Link couldn't help himself but chime in. "The suit doesn't make the man, nor does the sword. At least, that's what my father always told me."

"Well, your father sounds like a ripe old fool. I'd take my chances wearing those castle forged plates over cheap peasant rags or the dented steel your wearing. See then who lives by the end of a skirmish!"

Link just rolled his eyes at the man. He figured he'd be wasting his breath explaining to him anyways.

The other man added. "Well, I'll be bullocked. I'd wager his gloves alone are worth my entire house."

The rude one countered again. "I've seen your house, so more I'd say."

That irked him now. "You'll be seeing the tip of my lance if you keep running your mouth!" He growled back.

Link paid them no mind at all as their bickering continued back and forth. His attention instead drifted as the procession, spearheaded by the princess's coach, approached the heart of the meadow. Once through the arches of the grounds he knew they would be disembarking near the main pavilion beside the Royal Box to have the best view of the arena to watch the beginning spectacles. But suddenly, the rush of the entire procession ceased moving. And strangely enough he saw that it was his father of all people who raised his hand and ordered the line of regality to halt.

Everyone stood still, even the crowd of would-be challengers waiting on the sidelines. Hell, even the msuicians who kept the spirt alive ceased their tunes. Suddenly, the meadows became silent as a graveyard. And from the back of the march another lord came striding in, but he straddled a charcoal stallion unlike the pale palfrey the earlier lord rode in on. Who he was, Link couldn't say, but he certainly had to be high borne judging by the way he dressed. The lord was clad in pristine, blackened armor and was flanked by a small retinue of what could have only been Dragoons. Link's face soured. Of course, it would be them, he thought.

But to his shock something he did not intend happened, the princely man rode up alongside the princess's carriage where it stood waiting, slid off his mount, glanced over both shoulders, knocked on her wheelhouse window, handed the reins to his horse to one of his subordinates and entered in. It was then the busy commotion resumed as if not to delay the festivities. Starting first with the bards, then the keepers of the gates and then the all the rest.

What the? Link was getting more confused by the second.

It was only then he realized that an audible grumble came from Jun standing beside him. He had been so quiet; he nearly forgot the lad was there. The boy growled so agitatedly that he awoke Link from his own confusion. "Is something the matter? Do you know him?" Link asked, turning to face the boy.

Jun glanced up at him and for a moment, Link was unsure if he was going say anything at all, or if the kid was looking for a way to dance around the truth, but as soon as Link opened his mouth to speak, the lad spoke. "No, but I know his sort. That's for sure. See the soldier who took his horse for safe keeping? That's Captain Caspin of the Dragoons."

"Yeah, so?" Link's brows raised. He was perplexed. "What's he to you? Do you know him?"

Jun didn't respond. Link took a hard squint on the man Jun mentioned from afar and after a few seconds he realized who he was. That was the jerk he met outside the red Inn surrounded by several of those other goons. The ones who caused all that trouble with Sir Finn. But that was strange, how did the kid know him? Link turned to face Jun, but the lad snapped instead, as kids often do. "It's none of your business alright! Let's just get to where we need to go. C'mon, don't you want to see her or not?"

Link didn't know what to say to that but instead shrugged and stepped forward. Amid all the excitement, he absentmindedly walked past the enlistment bench and was already halfway through the grand arches of the tourney grounds when the old fellow keeping the accounts whistled at him.

"And just where in Demise's hell do you think you're running off to!?" bellowed an older man, his portly belly a testament to many indulgent years, and his demeanor drenched in disdain. He then raised an eyebrow at Link as he sat at his bench, writing down the accounts in his ledger.

Link and his squire both forgot they were next in line before the horns sounded. It was required that Link sign his name in the scroll of testament before gaining entry. He also had to do so if he wanted a hope of ever getting close to where the nobility would be on the meadow grounds as well. Their pavilions would be near the heart of the Grand Arena but to enter among their quarters, they would need to pass the guarded entrances. Commoners weren't allowed to just freely meander wherever they pleased. They were only allowed in by invitation and if not, had to make do with their own area to spectate.

But the first obstacle was gaining access to the main meadow in the first place, which happened to be through this grumpy goat who guarded the lists.

The man rolled his eyes at Link. "This tournament is for wandering knights and men who are in search of service. I must first ask, you have a horse? And do you have the entrance fee of twenty rupees?"

Link hesitated, then confessed, "Well, not yet, but I will."

"Horse or the rupees?"

"Uh, both, actually. But I will shortly."

The man's smirk widened. "You can't enter without paying the tax. And you can't ride unless you have a steed. I'm no genius on the subject but those are the rules. Also, these lists are not for royal guardsmen, don't you know?"

Confused, Link gulped.

"Did you hit your head or something? Or are you just mute? Your armor man! Are you a Royal Guardsman or not?"

"Uh, well, you see—"

"Well, aren't you a fast one..." The man with scraggily grey hair clicked his tongue in disapproval, turning his attention to Link's current state of attire. And at this time, he was wearing the armor Finn had lent him, save be for the helm which he had tucked under his arm. "-This whole grand hullabaloo is to prove you have what it takes to be a Royal, don't you know? And if you're already a Royal, then why Demise's hellfire would you want to enter? Unless-"

Link quickly interjected, his voice firm but low, "I'm not a guardsman. At least, not yet."

The organizer leaned in, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Well now, isn't that a pretty picture you paint for me. It's a terrible crime to admit to impersonating a man of the crimson cloak. I could double my day's wages just by turning you in."

Link's eyes darkened, his voice cold and dangerous, "Then you'd be short a throat and unable to speak. " His words were sharp, but devoid of any real intention to harm. However, the gravity of his tone masked his true intentions well enough.

"Easy now," the man replied, hands raised defensively. "I'm only jesting lad. No need to get all fired up. Save it for the arena. You're going to need it," he said, offering a cursory glance to evaluate Link again.

Gathering his thoughts, Link explained, "Look, I'm not impersonating, I'm borrowing the armor. It's my, uh, brother's."

The organizer's curiosity piqued. "Really, your brother? And where is he to vouch for you?"

"He is sick at home..." Link answered hesitantly.

Shaking his head, the man chided, "Well, brother or no, there's no place for armor like that in this tournament. I'd hang along side you just for allowing the farce. And I like my neck stretched enough the way it is, thank you very much. You're going to need your own gear if you are to compete. And I suggest you don't mention what you told me just now to anyone else. The sooner you lose that armor, the better."

Link sighed in exasperation. "Well, I haven't any armor of my own."

The old goat smirked, waving him off dismissively, "Well, then, I guess you won't compete then, next!" The man craned his head to look past Link into the crowd of hopefuls standing behind him to what seemed to be an endless line.

Link's frustration grew. "Hey, I'm not finished yet."

But the man cut him off. "You are with me, now bugger off, there's a line behind you. Next!"

A desperate look crossed Link's face, his voice rising with emotion. "I don't think you're listening; I have to enter those lists. It's the only way she'll—Just please."

The young squire piped up beside Link, his voice earnest, "Yeah, let him join, what's it to you?"

The organizer, clearly exasperated, tried to reason, "Well, you could enter after you buy some armor and find yourself a horse. There's plenty of good smithies around here. I even hear they have some of them fancy ones from Brynna can forge pretty gilded helms too! The Gorons there are quite the crafty ones, but don't let the ones from death mountain catch you saying that." The old man hunched as if to tell them about a secret with a cupped hand.

He then leaned back in his seat and spat over his shoulder onto the muddy grass. "Yep, they meld the rubies and garnets on top right into the steel. Some say they grant the wearer special abilities, but that's just a load of hooey. But one thing is for certain, they do cost a pretty rupee. So, if you do that and come back with the entry fee, might I enlist you."

Link's shoulders slumped, the reality of his situation sinking in. "I haven't any money either."

The man sighed, dismissing him. "Well, then I can't help you. Now, move along, I've work to do, next!"

Persistence shone in Link's eyes, his voice a mixture of pleading and frustration, "Just one more second," he urged as a man behind tried to shove past him, heeding the call of the enlister.

Link, refocusing on the enlister, proposed hurriedly. "Look, perhaps you can lend me the rupees and sign me up for the list and I'll make it worth your while. Half of my winnings from the ransoms I'll make. It's yours, I swear it by her grace, Hylia herself."

His squire's eyes widened in surprise and disbelief, "WHAT! Those are my—You can't—"

Link quickly reprimanded Jun, "Shush, or I'll thwack you like a good squire deserves."

Link looked at the man with a mixture of hope and determination. "So, do we have a deal?"

The enlister, veiled in contemplation, studied Link and the boy beside him. They were the essence of fables and underdog tales, yet skepticism gnawed at his thoughts. He knew well the rarity of happy endings, especially the ones sung in children's tales. "Well, what do you think?" Link asked impatiently.

The man sighed sarcastically. "I think you will last about ten seconds. Are you kidding, have you lost your mind? The answer is most definitely, NO! You're more likely to die in your first tilt than the odds me of ever seeing a rupee. The fiercest warriors from the entire country will be here to fight. Veterans who've seen real combat. Men!"

"I can beat them all!" Link contested.

"I have my doubts. You're just a lad hardly older than your squire there. I'd be more likely to be left destitute if I were to throw in my lot with you."

Link slammed his palm upon the table, a glint of determination in his eye. "You're wrong, I'm going to win this tournament, you'll see!"

The organizer chuckled cynically, "Yeah, that's exactly what the last hundred green boys like you said. All of them thinking they're going to win. The whole bunch of ya would be lucky to wake up in the infirmary ward all wrapped up with your limbs still attached."

Link, clearly getting desperate, questioned, "Then what is it you do want? I don't have any rupees now, but I will."

The man's eyes darted to Link's sword. "Hmm, well... Say, that is a shiny thing you have there. Looks like good steel too. I bet that's worth a pretty gem or two."

Link instinctively clutched the hilt of his sword, "What? My sword? No way! Then what will I fight with?"

"That's your problem to figure out." The man replied, inspecting the sword's hilt from where he sat. "However, those tiny glistening gems, diamonds, are they? On the hilt?"

Link nodded slowly, eyeing the man warily. "Yes... they are. And a single sapphire, emerald, and ruby as well, why?"

The man's eyes lingered on the sword, clearly entranced. Light raindrops caught its glint, and it felt as if the very heavens marveled at its craftsmanship.

"Such fine artistry..." the man murmured, almost to himself. "This is the work of castle-forged steel from an age long past. From the age of heroes, I'd wager. Goddess above, they just don't make them like that anymore."

The weight of his gaze turned from admiration to avarice. "You know, lad, parting with that blade might just solve all your problems. Hand it over and I might provide you with the rupees for a sturdy mount, decent armor, and a replacement blade. It won't match that masterpiece tied to your hip, granted, but it will get the job done. And with what's left, you could feast like a king on the eve of your...well, potential final moments. What do you say?"

Link's face darkened, a mixture of desperation and anger. The sword wasn't just a weapon; it was a part of his heritage, a symbol of his lineage. "I can't possibly," he said, voice trembling, "This sword was my uncle's. It's been in my father's family for generations. It's their most prized heirloom."

The man leaned back, eyeing Link carefully, a sly smirk forming on his lips. "Well, then I can't help you. Sorry lad, better luck next time. NEXT!"

A chill ran through Link as he realized the weight of the choice before him: the sword and his family's legacy or a chance to change his destiny. The young squire, sensing Link's turmoil, spoke up, his voice wavering but filled with conviction, "There must be another way, Sir. Surely the prize of the past doesn't outweigh the potential of the future?"

Link looked down at the sword as he unsheathed it, feeling its weight both physically and emotionally. He could see the reflection of the surrounding pavilions, the lords and ladies, and the bustling crowd in the polished blade. He could almost feel the spirits of his ancestors urging him, pushing him towards a choice.

He raised his head, a new determination in his eyes, and spoke with clarity, "You're right. I'll find another way. This isn't the end of my story, not by a long shot. Let's go Jun."

And with that, he turned on his heel and walked away, the rain beginning to fall heavier, as if the skies were crying. The squire followed closely, leaving the organizer to his busy work, a little less rich but far more intrigued by the boy who had just walked away.

And just as Link's thoughts fell into despair, a new but familiar voice shouted over to him and Jun.

Link and Jun, immersed in the rhythm of their departure, were interrupted by beckoning voices. "Helmsworth! Helmsworth, is that you?" They called out. It was Kafei and Ajuel, the couple whose destinies had intertwined with theirs earlier in the day, now adorned in festival regalia. The grandeur of their attire was an unspoken testimony of the princess's favor. Link was taken aback by their presence and was amazed they could spot him out from the crowd.

As if he read his thoughts, Kafei spoke up, "We figured you'd be here, to join in the challenges to become a guardsmen."

Link's words got caught in his throat. How do they know I'm not a guardsman already? How does everyone seem to know? This disguise is useless.

His perplexity seemed to amuse Lady Ajuel, whose laughter danced through the air like a refreshing breeze, revealing the secret jest they shared. "We saw that you were having some trouble getting past the guards. And it dawned on us, if it weren't for you earlier, we would not have been blessed with such a rare opportunity, so we thought, why not pay the favor back and help you two get to where you need to be."

Link raised a brow in curiosity, and his eyes met Ajuel's, and before words could give form to his thoughts, the lady unveiled the radiant jewelry bestowed by Princess Zelda – their beacon, their passage to the royal enclave.

"The princess did say that if we show this, they'll have to escort us to her."

Link and Jun marveled at the prized jewel that she held in the palm of her hand, a triplet of triangle crests cradling a mother of pearl stone. It was exactly the ticket they needed and just at the right time. Link's eyes lit up, the first time all afternoon. "Yes, this will work indeed. But—"

"But what?" Kafei remarked.

"I'll still need to find a way to enter the lists. This grants me and Jun passage, which I am grateful for, but it still doesn't access me to the tournament."

"Well, what are you going to do?" Ajuel asked.

"I don't know. But, perhaps I should do as the princess asks and bring Jun to her as promised. I can figure out what to do afterwards I suppose."

Jun rolled his eyes and blurted. "For goddess sakes, just take the rupees already from that other princess! What's the problem? She said she was fine with it."

"What other princess?" the lady turned her head on a swivel to glance at the lad who stood a head shorter than all of them.

"The—"

"What he means is—" Link interrupted. "What he means is my, uh..."

"-Uh, huh?" Anjuel's head cocked to the side with a questioning smile. Her betrothed also stood perplexed.

"We got to go; I thank you for your help, but we can get in on our own."

"Are you sure?" Kafei questioned, surprised by the sudden change of heart.

"Yes, thank you kindly, but I must insist. Let us go Jun."

"But sir, I was only—"

"Let's go Jun!" Link mumbled impatiently.

And just like that Link and the boy took off in the other direction, back toward the sea of tents on the rolling hills where his and his fathers was at. Kafei and Anjuel couldn't help themselves, but shrug amused and confused by their antics and proceeded to make their way under the banners of the noble quarters of the meadow grounds; granted by the precious pass they carried.

Link leaned to speak to his squire as the strode through the huddled mass of pilgrims, hopefuls, and merchants. "Haven't your parents taught you any manners at all? That mouth of yours is going to get us both in serious trouble."

"I told you before, my parents are dead."

Link had to halt for a moment and contemplate the boy. Rain lightly trickled over his shoulders. Did the boy ever tell him his folks were dead? He couldn't remember and was unsure, but the boy was so sure he did. It could have been possible that bit of history got lost in the excitement of the morning.

Link couldn't help but regret what he said and felt pity for the lad in his belly. "Well, I'm sorry for that. But, you're going to have to listen more and speak less if you're going to be my squire."

Jun rolled his eyes. "Sheesh, it's not my fault you make your life so complicated."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"The princess, or shall I say, princesses! How am I supposed to keep your story straight if you could hardly do so yourself?"

"There's nothing going on with either of them." Link insisted, beginning to trudge ahead in the muddy grass back toward the lines of hopefuls enlisting. "I'm a warrior of the realm. Or at least, I will be. My duty is to serve, that's all. And you are here to serve me. So, hold that tongue of yours or I'll give you something to talk back about."

"Yeah, sure, nothing going on between them. Riiiight, and I'm the great fairy of the west." Mocked Jun with a grumble, making a face behind him as kids often do.

"What was that?" Link turned but was met with a stone stare as if the lad had been dutifully following him the entire time.

"Nothing, sorry sir." Jun blinked.

Link huffed despairingly. "C'mon you, let's see if we can negotiate with the devil." A smile slowly pulled at Link's cheeks. "Let's win this thing, what do you say?"

"That's the spirit Sir!" Jun exclaimed; fist raised.

Back in the princess's carriage another conversation was beginning to brew like the storm clouds above. It was Zelda sitting at one side, staring nonchalantly through her window, pretending to be distracted while her guest, Lord Arasmus seated across from her was talking incessantly about the details of the evening that awaited them.

"Your father is in agreement with mine and tells me we must make time to openly see each other and more importantly, let the people see it. It's not what I want either, trust me, but we must both do as we are told...For now. Who knows, you may in time even come to enjoy it."

"Mhm, sure, whatever you say." Zelda said, feigning interest but clearly distracted from his words.

Arasmus rolled his eyes and gripped his knees, teetering on the edge of his patience and spoke again. This time low and firm, with far less curtesy. "Has anyone ever remarked to you that you are the most pretty, spoiled, well-to-do, entitled little cunt this side of the Dying mountains?"

Zelda didn't hear and in fact, blinked continuing to busily watch the spectacle unfolding outside her window. Drops of skyfall traced paths down the fogged-up glass, a result of her warm breath. Through the misty pane, she spied the cleverest little fellow she had ever seen. A nimble tumbler attempting to impress a stage master, hoping to earn some rupees for his performance. Stunt after stunt he would impress.

A bit further, an elderly woman chided her husband for sneaking a spoonful of stew from their bubbling pot. In the reflection of Zelda's eyes, the world outside sparkled with life and vibrancy, contrasting sharply with the stifling and cold atmosphere within the coach.

"Your Highness!" Arasmus declared.

"Huh, yeah, sure it's as you say." Zelda mumbled back, her attention now slowly adrift from the view of her window and onto the handsomely seated man before her.

If the lord of Illiastar was the most well-dressed man of that age, then Lord Arasmus from the Serpent's Keep had to be the most handsome, by far. His skin was kissed by a smooth olive complexion and the dark hair that cropped his face perfectly was as fierce as the Shadowore armor he wore. A warrior through and through and was a sight pleasing unto the ladies to be sure. Even she couldn't deny him that.

And then there were those eyes of his, they gleamed like blue sapphires, the kind that pierced your soul when caught in his gaze. A true devil in disguise.

"Are you even listening to a word I'm saying?" the lord continued.

"Oh, my apologies, you were speaking?" the princess coyly blinked.

"Look, all I am saying is, that I don't like this any more than you do, and I would appreciate some cooperation on your part to fulfill our duty. And if I'm to be your suitor, we should start laying the ground rules of our relationship now, don't you think? Get a jump before that rabble out there, or worse, the other petty lords get the wrong idea. Both our houses must flex unity and strength."

Zelda's response was hushed, almost to herself, "My house is the royal line of Hyrule. In what world would we lack strength?" But then, turning her full attention to him, she continued with a sly grin, "And who's to say you'll be the one to take my hand on the eve of my eighteenth birthday? Last I checked, this tourney is for my sixteenth celebration and to commemorate the cadets. Aren't you putting the carriage before the horse a little bit?"

"These are trying times and the realm is unsettled. Who else could possibly be your suitor? Your father said you would be open to the idea—"

"-Well, I'll have to have a word with him about that, now, won't I? "But for now, 'dearest suitor', I'd appreciate some breathing room. I'll consider your proposal. Satisfied?" She wrapped her arms around herself, a protective gesture she often adopted when felt the world close in around her.

"Certainly. Like I said I didn't choose this any more than you did. Our fathers insist on this union. So, let's at least try to make gold out of iron and enjoy these next three days. Let's show the people, there's a possible chance between us. That is all I ask. For a chance."

He then did something most unexpected and leaned across the way and got to one knee. And before the princess could breathe, say anything, or pull away he held her hand on her knee and spoke again, this time more softly. "Let me show you your worth these next few days and earn your affection. What do you say?" he said in the most gentlemanly way he could muster, but Zelda saw through the charade. His candied coated tongue was no match for the lie in his eyes.

But even still, she still weighed the thoughts of her people against the desires of her own heart. Time was indeed running out. Who was to say the calamity would wait until her eighteenth birthday and last she knew, the sealing power only came in its full manifestation to the queen, not the princess. Or the very least, the queen to be. That would mean, to unleash her power, she would need a suitor, or have one in mind when the time came.

And yet, her thoughts veered to Helmsworth. Oh helmsworth, why must you exist? Why do thoughts of your smile keep interfering every time I'm faced with an impossible choice?

A halt and jolt of the carriage followed by a knock on the window forced her to suddenly withdraw back her hand. Arasmus also sat back. The door swung open by a Royal Guarsdman. "My lord and Grace, we have arrived to the Royal box."

The man guarding the entry lists busily scribbled away at his ledger, granting passage to one contestant after the other onto the meadow where the arena was. And then without warning, the sudden thud and crash on his table stunned him, causing him to jump in his chair. It was then with bulging eyes he was relieved to find Link standing over him.

Link had loosened his belt and tossed the sheath carrying the sword of his ancestors on the table. The thud as it skidded across nearly broke his heart, but he had no choice. "There, are we in agreement now? It's yours if you keep your word and mark me for the testaments."

The man could hardly believe it, smacking his lips in intrigue. "I knew you'd come to your senses my boy. Though I must confess, I'd thought you'd be quicker about it." The man then gave a slimy grin, the kind a slick gambler would make during a game of Hyrule hold'em with pocket fairies tucked up his sleeve.

"Well?" Link pressed; arms stretched over the edge of the table bracing both corners.

"Why, yes of course. Just as we agreed." Licking his lips again, he clutched the prized blade that lay across his table that knocked over stacks of papers, bartering sacks and other various paraphernalia. With a quick gander, he glanced up at Link and tossed him a brown purse he took from a small chest he had beside his chair.

Link fumbled to catch the pouch as it thumped against his chest but managed to do so. And just as he was about to walk away with his squire in tow, he gave a cursory accounting of the contents of the purse. "Hey this is less than what you promised!" Link spun around and narrowed his glance on the smirking man who leaned back brazenly in his chair. "This is barely enough to get me boiled leather and a mount. And that's if I'm lucky!"

"Well, my going price has changed." The man folded his arms, and planted himself like an immovable boulder who wouldn't budge an inch.

"What? How so? The jewels on the hilt alone are worth twice this amount."

"Because now you're desperate, that's why. And o'l Lionel never misses an opportunity to earn his gem's worth. And besides, I have to scribble you on the list and vouch for you. Risking my neck for the like of you young fools doesn't come cheap."

"But this is hardly enough to get me by. You know that."

"Weren't you the one that said you're going to win this tourney single handedly? Why, if you're such the champion you claim to be, you don't need plate armor, right? Think of the brave songs they'll sing of you..." The man's eyes sparkled with a mischievous glint. And under his breath he finished, though out of earshot of Link. "At your funeral."

"What? Are you mad? I'd hardly stand a chance."

The man spat again. "Well, I hear there's a smithy that uses leftover steel to mend new armor. Mayhaps, you can give him that Royal Guardsman gear you stole and he might melt it down and make you a new set for a discount. It's worth a shot, but as far as our arrangement, we are done. Oh, and do hurry, I believe he does close shop soon."

Jun raged beside Link, unwilling to part ways with such a low fare. "Why you no good, I outta-" the boy reached for a small dagger hidden in a small sheath that was rolled cleverly into the folds of his tunic. Link hadn't the time to ponder that strange occurrence any further but instead had bigger problems to deal with-the record keeper.

"-It's fine Jun, it will be alright. We still have enough for a mount, some leathers and weapons if we can find a good stall and haggle right. Maybe if we find this mystery smithy, he may be willing to work with us. Though we will have to make do without the feast. We haven't the gems for that. Sorry." Link said, his belly grumbling in protest. He had hoped for a good meal prior to the skirmishes that lay ahead. It's never good to fight on an empty stomach.

"It's alright sir. I think I have an idea that could help. It's a longshot but it's worth a try."

Link didn't know what to make of that. This kid was quite the mysterious one. "Um, sure, let's get going then." Link said, walking beside the lad, giving him a side-eyed glance.

"What?" Jun asked.

"Uh, nothing. It's fine. Look, he marked us down. We can enter the tourney grounds and figure more of that later. But first, we promised the princess you'd join her before the preliminaries. You got those masks, right? Because I don't see your sack."

"Leave that to me, sir." Jun's eyes twinkled with a glint of surprise yet again.

Once again, the more Link spent with the boy, the less he thought he knew anything about him. But there was no time to worry about that now, instead he welcomed the help. At least someone had his back. "Well, just make sure you do, because I won't be able to bail you out if you disappoint her," Link said.

"Hah!" Jun nearly erupted in laughter. "Me? Disappoint her? You're the one that has to worry about that." The kid slapped his knee as they walked. "But, don't you worry sir, we have a deal, so I'll be sure to make sure you don't look foolish."

Sheesh, that makes me feel loads better. Link gulped and thought to himself. Well, at least one of us is confident. Maybe before the night is through, I can borrow some of his.

So, with that, the pair of underdogs turned away, with rupees in hand and proceeded to enter the arena under the grand arches of the meadow grounds. And just as they displayed their parchment to guards standing post the potbelly man from moments ago cackled behind them. "Goodluck lads, I'll be cheering for you! You can bet on that!"

Link fought the urge to look over his shoulder while the man hurled his taunts, nor did he want to give him any satisfaction.

Hustling through the dense crowds flocking into the grand arena, Link and Jun were quickly drawn to the majestic sight of the Royal banner, fluttering proudly in the breeze, mounted on a tall post. Directly before them, ornate fences marked the boundaries of what Link discerned to be the royal box. This elevated, sheltered seating area was reserved for the kingdom's elite, guaranteeing them an unobstructed view of the thrilling battles to unfold in the arena.

Adjacent to the seating were bustling stalls, ready to satiate the diverse wishes of the attendees. The delightful aroma of roasted delicacies wafted through the air, while stalls displaying shimmering trinkets, sturdy armor, and other tempting wares beckoned the visitors. The muffled sound of clashing weapons hinted at a training area not too far, with knights practicing their strokes against quintains and releasing arrows at straw dummies.

They were on the brink of reaching their destination. Just a few more steps, a courteous nod to the guards at their posts, and they would soon be graced by her esteemed presence. It was only then that Link, remembering his uniform, quickly donned his helm, hoping it would act as a ticket to access the royal vicinity. Given the failed attempts at disguising himself so far, he remained skeptical. A fierce battle seemed to be playing out in his stomach - nerves and hunger clashing with equal fervor.

Suddenly, a resounding horn blast pierced the air, drawing everyone's attention. The arrival of the princess's coach and the King's wheelhouse was announced. The sight reminded Link of ants in a frenzy, as soldiers hastily scurried to greet and facilitate the royals' entrance. Numerous dignitaries, draped in fine clothes, also converged to offer their salutations.

Link was about to address Jun when his gaze landed on her. Her graceful form, escorted by one of his fellow guards-in-training, left him momentarily breathless.

Jun, noting Link's obvious distraction, nudged him and said, "You were going to say something?"

"She is really something isn't she?" Link whispered, captivated.

"Well, what she is, is surrounded by jerks. Or haven't you noticed? So, unless we get over there, you might as well commit that view of her to memory because that is going to be the last you'll ever be so close."

The young lad's words were a splash of cold water, and Link nodded in agreement. "Let's go, Jun." However, before they could move, a familiar face emerged from the princess's coach. It was the noble lord of Draene, but now, he seemed more than just a companion. Link's heart sank as he watched the lord intertwine his arm with hers, going as far as to give her a lingering kiss on the cheek. Their shared smiles and the gathered nobility's warm reception made Link's world spin. Doubt and disillusionment clouded his mind. Was their prior interaction just a fleeting game for her? She was a princess after all. Or maybe he was just plain stupid to ever think or entertain the idea that she would ever be interested in the likes of him, a lad from Scrapbottom.

The unfolding scene provided Link with the perfect diversion to reconsider his next moves. "On second thought, mayhaps, I should change first. I don't think this disguise is going to work," he confessed, trying to sound nonchalant.

"Geeze, you're just barely realizing that now," Jun retorted, clearly exasperated. "When were you going to tell me? Before or after our heads rolled?"

"I don't know, sorry. I changed my mind. We should get the armory first then proceed back here to drop you off."

"Drop me off, what?" Jun's bewilderment was palpable.

But before they could squeeze out from the line of nobles, upscale merchants and petty lords piling the royal quarters, they brushed shoulders with the lovely couple from earlier yet again. Yes, my ticket to lose the kid. At least until I can think straight.

It was then Kafei raised his hand wearing all smiles and was about to greet Link when the knight to be blurted. Ignoring Jun, he spoke. "Hey, there you are, we meet again. Could you do me the kindness and escort my squire with you to meet the princess."

"Well, I don't mind but what about you? Weren't you going—"

"I am still but it will have to be later. Something has come to my attention that I must address now. Can you do me this favor?"

"Of course, we can, we'd love to." Offered Anjuel.

"-Drop me off? What are you talking about?" Jun butted in.

"It's fine, you'll have to on without me until the tilts begin. This kind lady and her fiancé will take you to her in my absence. She is expecting you. I must prepare; they could be starting any minute."

Jun scratched the back of his silvery hair confused by that command since he was his squire after all. Shouldn't he be there to help?

"Look, I just have to go alright!" Link said, almost frantically scurrying off away. "Find me before the tilts start."

"But sir—"

"No buts, just go!" Link hollered as he left back towards the merchant tents.

"Sheesh, fine, have it your way then. I'll think of something." Jun uttered quietly before glancing up to the lovely couple. "Well, you ready?"

"As we'll ever be." Anjuel responded with a warm smile, leading the way. "Let us be off!"

In the midst of the grand arrival, Zelda skillfully pulled her arm from the possessive grasp of the lord beside her. The man had managed to make what was supposed to be an eventful evening bursting with potential and excitement had been reduced to a tedious charade. While she exchanged pleasantries with noble ladies and esteemed lords, her gaze caught Jun from afar. He was expertly navigating through the throng, dancing on the toes of attendees in his eager quest to approach her. Alongside him, the familiar faces of the couple from their earlier encounter beamed, warming Zelda's heart and briefly lighting up her day.

However, her keen eyes also discerned another figure - Helmsworth. His hurried retreat through the crowd puzzled her. The sight of him disappearing amongst the sea of faces left her riddled with questions. Why would he leave Jun alone? Weren't they both supposed to join me before the celebration?

The elation from seeing Jun and the couple was quickly overshadowed by a shroud of bewilderment. The surrounding buzz - the flutter of compliments and the incessant chatter of the elites that rang in her ear- began to sound distant, their words a mere murmur, oscillating in and out of her perception. For that fleeting moment, doubt clouded her mind, leaving her to ponder what had gone awry.

Her introspection was short-lived, abruptly interrupted by a gentle tug on her arm. She looked down to find Jun, his presence a ray of sunshine piercing through her confusion. Her face lit up instantly. "You made it? But where is—"

Authors Note- Please, if you enjoyed this chapter say so in the comments, because I have no idea if anyone is reading as partial notifications and stats are down, thanks!