Author's note: Just three things about this story - 1) I know there are A LOT of Pre-Calamity stories out there, but I never seem to tire of reading them, so here is a new one. Plus, this story will be from Link and Zelda's pov. 2)This story will refer to the captured memories, but will not attempt to recreate all of them here - most will be used to lead to new scenes 3) Link is left-handed - the only reason Nintendo changed his dominant hand was because of ease of controller use, so for this story, he is reverting back to his original dominant hand (I personally think it is an important trait).
I don't currently have a beta reader, so my apologies for any grammatical errors.
Thanks!
Music choices: 1 hour of relaxing Zelda: Breath of the Wild Music by Charles D. Hummel - YouTube Music
Melodies of Hyrule by Taylor Davis - Amazon Music
M/F; Link/Zelda; mainly fluff; some angst, I mean we all know how it ends; major character death
LZLZLZLZLZLZLZLZLZLZLZLZLZLZLZ
"Open your eyes…open your eyes."
Groaning, Link squeezes his eyes tighter shut. It felt like he had just fallen asleep and he didn't want to get up just yet.
"Wake up, Link!"
The voice clearly has other ideas. He drapes his arm over his eyes, to block out the sun and try to recapture the dream he had been having. He had been flying and it was exhilarating. A pretty girl, with long blonde hair had given him her shawl. Only it wasn't just a shawl, it was something more. The fragments were fading and as he awoke, he could no longer remember.
"Link! You promised!" the petulant voice insists.
What had he promised? He shakes his head, the last vestiges of the dream dissolving. Rubbing sleep from his eyes, he sits up slowly, his body aching, and he groans again.
Pulling his legs up, he rests his arms on his knees, his chin on arms, and slowly opens his eyes. Staring at him are a pair of bright blue eyes the same color as his own.
"It's about time!" the eyes say and he realizes they belong to a round-faced little girl, with honey blonde hair. She is six years old and she is his sister.
Link sighs, "Aryll, you could have let me sleep a little longer."
Aryll stamps her foot. "The sun is already at its zenith, Link! You said we would hunt blupees after lunch!"
She kicks a wooden bow towards him. He reaches down and picks it up, grabbing the quiver that lay by his side.
"I did, didn't I?" he asks and she nods her head vigorously.
"And knights always keep their promises," she retorts.
"I'm not a knight yet," he reminds her, "I'm still just a page in training."
Throwing him a sour look, she starts putting the remains of their lunch in her satchel. "Still counts."
He supposes it did. Their father, Captain Banzetta, was head of the king's personal guard, and in Link's eyes a perfect role model. As a small child he would watch his father spar with the wooden dummy that sat in a corner of their small yard. He would try to match the fluidity of his father's movements, spinning when he spun, and lunging just moments after the older knight. Banzetta would laugh, and ruffle Link's hair, before lifting him up onto his shoulders to carry him inside their house to his mother.
Link knew his father took his role as a royal knight seriously, and he instilled the same traits in him. Respect, protection, loyalty, honor, mercy, humility, sacrifice, faithfulness, and courage. Those words were drilled nearly as much as sword fighting, archery, horseback riding, swimming, and climbing.
Returning to the moment, Link slings his quiver strap over his shoulders, feeling it rest against his hip and hefts the bow in his right hand. Being left-handed had its disadvantages when it came to using a bow. He'd had to take extra time at the archery range to perfect his aim. However, his father suspected it actually served in Link's favor in sparring sessions. Most attackers were used to fighting with someone with the same dominant hand as their own. No one seemed to know what to do when Link's attacks came from an angle or direction they were not expecting to have to parry.
Today would be good practice to ensure his skill in archery was equal to his use of a sword.
"All right," he declares, looking down at Aryll. "The trick to spotting a blupee is to be as quiet as you can be. They scare easily, and if they hear you, they'll hop away before we can even get off a shot."
They enter the Forest of Spirits, at the edge of the Great Plateau. It is cool in the shadows of the trees. Link crouches and gestures for his sister to do the same. Putting a finger to his lips, he begins to slowly duckwalk forward. The quiver makes a soft swishing noise as it bounces against his back.
Aryll attempts to mimic his movements, but keeps falling forward, her small hands reaching out for his arm to help steady her balance.
"This is hard, Link!" she whispers, his name going up an octave as her sentence ends in a whine.
He shrugs, but remains silent. He steadies her with his hand and points ahead of him with the bow. She looks past his outstretched arm and her eyes widen when she sees the translucent white ears of a blupee poking above the tall grass.
"A blupee!" she squeaks. "He has the cutest little horns!"
Link quietly shushes her as he raises the bow. Pulling an arrow out of his quiver, he draws back the bowstring with his left hand, and takes aim. The blupee snuffles in the tall grass, unaware that it is being watched. Its long ears twitch and it sits up to sniff the air.
With a small huff, Link releases the arrow, and it flies through the air, striking the creature square in the back. The blupee squeaks, jumps up in the air, frightened, its head bobbing around looking for the attacker. It hops off, vanishing into the trunk of a tree, and Link sprints forward to investigate the treasure the animal dropped. If they are lucky there may be a blue rupee.
He is crouching down to search the grass when he hears sniffling behind him. Looking over his shoulder he sees Aryll sitting where he left her, fat tears rolling down her face.
"Why are you crying?" he asks in confusion.
Her face screws up and she emits a loud wail, "You killed it!"
"No, I didn't," he insists. "It just disappeared. They're magic. They can't die."
"You killed it," she repeats, wiping her nose on her sleeve.
Link sighs in exasperation. "You were the one who wanted to hunt blupees, but I promise you, Aryll, I didn't kill it." He spies a blue rupee twinkling in the grass and picks it up. "Look, it left you treasure."
She bites her lip and looks at him skeptically. "You promise it's not dead?"
"I promise," he says solemnly, holding the rupee out to her. "If you don't want this rupee, I'm going to keep it."
Aryll sniffs again and then creeps forward, tentatively taking the rupee from his hand. She studies it for a moment before holding it up at her eye-level and peering deeply into its depths. She lowers it and smiles up at him.
"Thanks, big brother." She places the rupee in her pocket. When she looks back up she sees the blupee sitting near the tree it had disappeared into.
"Link," she whispers. "The blupee!"
He smiles over at her, "I told you they were magic."
"Thanks for the treasure, blupee!" Aryll shouts, startling the creature and she laughs as it runs away to disappear into a rock. She chases after it, pushing on the rock, hoping the creature will reappear.
A breeze rustles the leaves of the trees and Link looks up at the sky. From the length of the shadows, he can tell the sun has moved past the summit and is heading to the horizon.
"We should go, if we are going to get back to the village before dark," he says.
"Ok," Aryll chirps, shouldering her satchel.
She skips beside him as they make their way back to Mabe Village. It's been their temporary home since their father was appointed to the king's personal guard, but their actual homestead is located in Hateno Village. Their grandmother still lives there, and Link misses going to the beach to swim with his sister and returning home for a bowl of his grandmother's curried rice and fish skewers. Now that their father wasn't stationed in Zora's domain, it was more difficult to make the trip out to the secluded village.
Link sighs, and Aryll takes his hand. "I miss home, too, big brother."
"How'd you know I was thinking of home?" He asks her, playfully tugging on her braid.
"You always sigh like that when you are thinking of our village," she replies, matter-of-factly.
They walk in companionable silence, enjoying the warm sun on their backs. Aryll tires as they reach the Exchange, and Link crouches down so she can leap onto his back. Hooking his arms under her legs, he carries her past the stalls with their brightly fluttering flags. The tables are heaped with all sorts of food and wares. His stomach grumbles when they pass a stall that is selling fresh honey glazed baked apples, and he is tempted to buy one.
He glances over his shoulder towards Aryll. "See anything you want to spend your rupees on?"
"No, I'm saving it for something special," she replies.
"How about a baked apple?" He offers, hopefully.
"No, big brother!" Aryll scolds. "As mother would say, you will spoil your appetite!"
"No such thing," Link retorts, but he walks past the baked apple stall as they continue on their way.
The sun sinks lower in the sky, casting long shadows, as they pass the garrison. Knights standing on the parapets, call down to them, waving. Link and Aryll wave back.
"We strayed too far today," Link comments, beginning to trot. Aryll giggles, clinging tightly to his shoulders as she bounces. "It's getting dark."
"We're almost there," she encourages, wrapping her arms tighter across his chest.
They make it to the edge of Mabe Village just as the sun is disappearing below the horizon. Link is surprised to find their home dark. He would have thought their mother would be cooking dinner, and the lanterns would be lit. He was expecting her to chide them for making her worry.
Aryll slips from his back and pushes the door to their house open, "Where's mother?"
Link finds a taper, lights a lantern, and sets it on the bare table.
"I'll ask the neighbors, maybe they will know," he replies, "Stay here."
He exits and walks quickly to the house next to their own, knocking urgently on the door. An elderly woman answers.
"Your mother isn't home yet?" she asks with a worried frown when Link asks her if she has seen his mother. "She left hours ago to search for hearty truffles in Applean Forest. I would have thought she'd be back by now."
Link thanks her and hurries back to Aryll. "I need to borrow a horse from Malon and search for our mother. When our father arrives, tell him to meet me in Applean Forest."
Aryll looks frightened. "Please don't leave me alone here, Link. Can I come with you to Lon Lon Ranch?"
He thinks this over as he opens a trunk by the door and removes his wooden sword and shield. "All right, I'll ask Malon to walk you back home," he agrees, allowing the lid of the trunk to fall into place with a muffled thunk. "Let's go, quickly."
When they arrive at the ranch, Malon is in the paddock riding a young horse and wrangling several cows towards the barn. Her thick chestnut hair is pulled away from her face with a bright red scarf.
"Evening Aryll, Link!" she calls, riding over to them. Her smile and warm greeting falter when she sees the worried look on Link's face.
"Is everything all right?" she asks in concern, hopping off the horse and looking between her two friends.
"Our mother has gone missing," Link informs her. "May I borrow a horse, and would you please walk Aryll back to our house to wait for our father?"
"Of course. Take Epona, Link," Malon says, handing the reins of the horse she had been riding towards him. "She's already saddled and is one of our fastest yearlings."
Link nods, and fits his boot into the stir-up to swing up onto the saddle. Epona whinnies and shakes her head. He pats her gently on the neck before looking down at Aryll and Malon.
"Thank you, Malon."
"Of course, Link. I'll watch over Aryll until your father arrives," Malon assures him, placing her arm around the small girl. His sister looks up at him tearfully.
"Be careful, big brother," she says.
Nodding his head, Link digs his heels into Epona's side,"Yah!" She bolts down the lane, and once he passes the last ranch gate, he veers the horse off the path and charges across Mabe Prairie. Epona gallops through the tall grass, and it isn't long before he spies the trees of Applean Forest.
Pulling on the reins, he slows to a trot and heads into the forest. They haven't gone far when something whizzes past Link's head, ruffling his hair. He hears a thunk behind him and turning around sees an arrow stuck in the trunk of a tree.
He whips his head back around in time to see a moblin bearing down on him, drawing back another arrow in its bow. With a gasp, Link leaps off Epona, just as the moblin lets the arrow fly. It passes harmlessly above Link's head. He slaps the horse's haunch and sends her galloping away.
Drawing his sword and shield, Link faces the moblin that towers above him. He has never fought one before, and is uncertain if his wooden sword is any match for the large brute. Deflecting another arrow with his shield, he leaps back as the monster lunges for him. Swinging his sword wide, he sweeps its legs out from under it. It falls on its back, dropping the bow.
Link races towards the bow and kicks it out of the moblin's reach, and makes another slash at the fallen monster. It roars in anger as it struggles to rise. Running out of its reach, Link sheaths his sword and pulls out his own bow, quickly cocking an arrow and taking aim.
The moblin howls in pain when the arrow pierces its shoulder. In one long stride it reaches Link and swipes its arm at him. He raises his shield to parry, but the force of the blow still sends him reeling. The monster raises its foot to bash in Link's head. Eyes wide in fear, he rolls away and scrabbles to his feet moments before the moblin's foot crashes down.
He serpentine runs from the beast again, readying another arrow, and looking over his shoulder, sees the monster is not far behind.
Link grunts as he puts on a burst of speed to gain some distance. When he feels like his chest is going to burst from the exertion, he takes as long a striding leap he can muster and spins around, aiming his arrow for the head of the moblin. The arrow pierces the animal between the eyes. It stumbles a few more steps before falling dead in a heap.
Gasping, Link drops his bow and shield to the ground, places his hands on his knees and bends over, trying to draw breath into his burning lungs. His heart is just beginning to cease racing when he hears a low moan. Fearful of another moblin attack, Link quickly picks up his bow and shield. He slings the bow over his shoulder and draws his sword.
He moves as quietly as he can in the brushy scrub of the forest towards the source of the sound. Pale moonlight filters through the canopy of trees, and Link squints in the darkness. Ahead he sees a prone form lying on the forest floor. He can see the shaft of an arrow sticking in the back.
Bile fills his throat as he kneels by the body. He recognizes the forest green tunic of his mother, and the matted ash blond hair that falls from her loose braid. A trampled basket, with smashed herbs and mushrooms scattered around it, lays not far from her side.
"Mother!" he cries, gently turning her over, careful of the arrow, lest he hurt her more.
"Link," she whispers, weakly raising her hand to touch his cheek.
"You're safe. I killed the moblin," he tells her.
A tear leaks from the corner of her eye. "Proud of you."
Link feels his own tears falling down his cheeks. "Please don't die. Father will be here any moment."
His mother's hand slips from his face and her arm falls limp at her side. A small sob escapes Link's lips as he watches the light leave her eyes. Epona, having returned to him, nuzzles his shoulder gently. Link bows his head over his mother's prone form and weeps.
LZLZLZLZLZLZLZLZLZLZLZLZLZLZLZ
Princess Zelda creeps along the hall to her father's receiving room. She kneels by the door and peers through the keyhole. Captain Banzetta is kneeling before his king on the thick rug in front of the large desk that sits at the back of the room.
"Rise, my friend," King Rhoam Bosphoramus' deep voice calls. "My condolences. How are you and your family?"
"We have been better, my king," Banzetta replies. "It will take time for our broken hearts to heal. As you have the misfortune of knowing all too well."
The loss of Zelda's mother and Hyrule's queen two years ago still hung heavy across the kingdom. She suppressed the wave of sadness that threatened to wash over her. She missed her mother dearly. She had a beautiful soprano voice, and would softly sing Zelda to sleep each night with a lullabye. Since her death, the princess had never been able to bring herself to hum the tune again, and doubts she ever will.
Shaking her head to rid herself of the memories, Zelda focuses her attention back to the meeting between her father and his captain.
"Yes," King Rhoam agrees. "I hear your son found your wife?"
"Unfortunately," the captain answers. "He has barely spoken to anyone other than his sister since that day. I worry he may be irrevocably scarred from the trauma."
"He is young," Rhoam tuts. "He just needs time.
"The incident does bring me to my other reason for calling you here," her father continues. "Is it true that Link single-handedly defeated a moblin?"
"It is true, my king," Banzetta sighs.
"How old is he?" the king asks, stroking his beard as he closely studies his friend.
"He is ten," Banzetta answers, and Zelda could hear the fear that colors the knight's answer. She wonders if her father could, as well, and if he does, if he even cares.
"I have heard other instances of your son displaying extraordinary feats for his age. No page has ever shown the skill already evident in Link, " Rhoam turns away to ruminate, gazing out the window over his kingdom.
"I would like to see what he can do. He may indeed be the Chosen One the prophecy speaks of. I want you to begin training him for the trials," Rhoam announces without an ounce of hesitation.
"Your highness, he is still a child. Grieving the loss of his mother. He is not ready," Banzetta protests. Zelda's jaw drops at the captain's insolence.
"And my Zelda is nine, only seven when she lost her mother. She never allowed her grief to keep her from her devotions," Rhoam states firmly. "Do you think I enjoy watching her suffer as she begs the goddesses to show her what we had expected her mother teach her?"
Banzetta remains firm, "You are asking me to train my son to sacrifice his life."
"Is that not what all knights are trained to do?" Rhoam scoffs. "Have you not already been grooming him to follow in your footsteps?"
"To be a Royal Knight, yes, not the Hero of Hyrule," the king's captain retorts. "You ask too much."
The king's expression darkens, "And you have overstepped your bounds, Captain Banzetta! I am speaking to you now as your liege, not your friend. Chief Urbosa recently informed me that Zelda spent hours praying to the goddess in the spring of power until she fainted from exhaustion and hypothermia. My Zelda is still without her power, and I am helpless to aid her. Hyrule needs a champion to rally behind until my daughter can show her true worth."
The king turns away from his knight and gazes out the window again, "Perhaps, whenever it is found, the presence of the Master Sword will spark the power within her," he whispers, almost offering the plea up as a prayer to the goddesses.
"Our time is growing short. I will make my rounds of the training grounds tomorrow. I expect to see Link there," her father states, leaving no further room for argument.
Captain Banzetta remains rooted to the carpet, his jaw clenched in anger as he stares daggers at her father's back. His fisted hands are held stiffly at his side as he battles with his internal thoughts. Zelda fears he is going to launch himself over the desk and attack her father. Instead, after another moment, he turns without uttering another word.
With the footsteps of her father's Royal captain approaching the study doors, Zelda runs and hides behind a tapestry portraying a scene from the battle 10,000 years ago. She covers her mouth to still her gasping breath, as hot tears run down her cheeks. She was failing her father, her kingdom, and now he was pinning his hopes on some poor page. As the captain's footsteps recede, she kneels behind the tapestry, feeling sick.
In her childish naivete, she had always assumed, if and when a hero was called, it would be one of the senior knights. Now she realizes how foolish she has been. Her father had already forced any knight he thought may be worthy, including the captain who had just walked by, to risk the trek through the Lost Woods in search of the fabled Master Sword. All of them had failed, and those that had returned had stumbled out of the forest's depths hours, sometimes days later, empty-handed and nearly out of their minds from the terror of being forever lost. The tales she had overheard of the horrors hidden within the Lost Woods were enough to give anyone nightmares.
No one had set eyes on the sword in 10,000 years. Her father wasn't even sure if the sword stood in the depths of those dark woods, but he had scoured the rest of Hyrule kingdom to no avail.
She wonders what this boy, Link, was like. She has seen some of the other pages moving about the castle, in their green caps, tunics, and shorts, running errands for their master knights, or sparring on the grounds outside the guard's chambers. None of them look like they could kill a mountain goat, let alone a moblin. The large beasts tower over the tallest Hylians, and even seasoned knights had difficulty fighting them one on one.
The next morning, Zelda's curiosity gets the better of her and she watches from the walkway between her bedchamber and study as the Master Knight and the Sheikah leader, Impa assemble the pages that reside within the castle. Her father stands to one side of the courtyard below with his head knight, Banzetta at his shoulder. It seems the knight has been able to assuage his anger since the confrontation yesterday. His face is the cool mask royal knights are trained to wear when on duty.
The princess knows that King Rhoam values Impa's counsel, despite her young age, above all others, especially when it comes to matters of the fortune teller's prophecy and the legends. The Sheikah walks down the line of pages, studying each closely, and Zelda does not envy them. She had been under Impa's scrutiny more than once, and knew how intimidating her pointed look could be.
Most of the pages cannot help fidgeting beneath her scrutiny and keep their eyes firmly on the ground. However, a page on the end with sandy blond hair, and startling blue eyes dares to make eye contact with the Sheikah and holds her gaze.
Impa raises her eyebrows in surprise and with an impish grin bends so their eyes are level. The page doesn't flinch and continues to impassively stare back at her.
"What's your name?" she asks, her voice floating up to Zelda.
"Link," the boy whispers, and Zelda has to strain to hear it.
"Hmmmm," Impa hums with a smile. "You have spunk, Link. I like you."
Link. He was the boy her father had been talking about the previous evening, and according to the king, Hyrule's last hope.
