Authors Note: Hello friends, I hope you enjoy this one. That being said, let me know if you prefer me to alternate between the past and present every chapter. I can do so if that is what everyone wants. I just figured it would have been best to get the past finished first so we could just focus on the present after this done going forward. Let me know.
Chapter
Why we failed part- 9
A Song of Salutations and Setbacks
The grandeur of the tournament grounds stood in stark contrast to the somber, overcast sky, a light drizzle misting the thousands of spectators. The lush green meadow just outside Castle Town was abuzz with anticipation, a vivid tapestry of Hyrulean races congregating. Amidst the Hylian nobility, leaders from nearby regions and dignitaries from foreign lands, Princess Zelda gracefully alighted from her coach moments earlier, drawing admiring gazes and courteous bows from the assembled spectators. Her loyal attendant, Gastinoe taking every care to shield her from the rain with an umbrella.
To her dismay, Helmsworth had departed looking the other way when she broke free from the high lord's grip. All she could think about was wiping away the sloppy kiss planted on her cheek. For the rest of the evening, she would have to make do with the stain of his breath lingering on her skin. A beguiling aroma of mint and lemon that would serve as a constant reminder of the forced kiss he gave her. But she knew better than to make a fuss. All eyes were on them, and she knew what she had to do to keep up with appearances. After all, the kingdom was watching.
Her introspection on the day's events and the curious figure of Helmsworth – the alias under which Link hid under – was abruptly interrupted by a gentle tug on her arm. Looking down, she was greeted by the sight of Jun who managed to sneak past the throng of nobility swarming her path. His youthful energy a stark contrast to the surrounding solemnity. Zelda's face instantly brightened, forgetting the rudeness of the Lord beside her. "You made it? But where is-?"
Before she could finish, Arasmus, a young lord with seeded ambitions clearly reflected in his sharp gaze, defensively pulled the boy back. His action was rough, but careful not to displease the princess or make a scene. In his mind, he and the princess were already entwined, their courtship a mere formality shy of official declaration. To him, sustaining the illusion of them as the lovely couple was of utmost importance, a delicate dance they must perform for the scrutinizing eyes of the public. Like a symphony where every note must resonate in perfect harmony, so too, he believed, the charade of their orchestrated relationship. The anticipated union between their houses was more than a personal triumph; it symbolized a beacon of hope and pride for the people in these uncertain times. A narrative he was determined to uphold.
"Hey, what's the big idea? Let off already, you jerk!" Jun protested, his youthful indignation piercing the usual formalities of the court. "Are you deaf, she obviously knows me! Sheesh!"
"You recognize this little miscreant, princess?" Arasmus asked, his tone dismissive, as he yanked Jun by the collar of his tunic.
"Well, as a matter of fact, I do," Zelda replied, trying to suppress her giggles at Jun's pouty defiance against Arasmus's domineering posture.
"See, told you! Now let off me, will ya?" Jun shot back, glaring at Arasmus.
Zelda, still amused yet curious, inquired, "But, Jun, where is Helmsworth, wasn't he with you?"
"Lin—I mean Helmsworth, is uh, um—" Jun stuttered, awkwardly rubbing the back of his head, scrambling for an excuse. At that moment, a couple chased after Jun as if to intervene with his barging of the procession and a lady's sweet voice broke the tense atmosphere. It was Anjuel, the maid from earlier, with her fiancé following close behind. "Your grace, we came as soon as we could," she said gently. "But we wanted to wait until these esteemed lords and ladies had finished their audience with you before we intruded. But, it seems this young man was quite eager to see you and there was no getting in the way of that. Forgive our intrusion," she said, as if trying to catch up with a wayward son of theirs.
"Indeed," Zelda responded as she listened, offering Jun a warm smile. The lad was uncertain about the lady's intentions but remained silent to listen.
Zelda continued, returning to face Anjuel "It's no bother at all. It was I who invited you to join me, after all." It was then that Zelda had a proper glance at the lady before her. Draped in the garments she had gifted earlier that morning, Anjuel stood out stunningly among the crowd. Her radiant beauty was accentuated by the love shining in her eyes for her fiancé, offering a stark contrast to the dreary afternoon sky. "Oh my, that gown becomes you wonderfully. I see now those garments were truly meant for you, not me. Kafei must feel blessed to have such a star by his side this evening."
"That I am," Kafei said humbly.
"You flatter me, Your Highness," Anjuel added with a graceful curtsey. "Now that this lad has found you, we will find our seats in the watcher stands. A royal procession is no place for us. We'll eagerly await your return after you conclude your duties here. We are deeply grateful for your invitation to join the festivities. It means the world to us."
"Of course, and I am eagerly anticipating your company later this evening. You are most welcome by me and my ladies in waiting. Let no-one else tell you otherwise. We are, after all, celebrating a wedding tonight as well, aren't we?" Zelda replied with a playful wink, and they bowed in return. All the while Anjuel attempted as best she could to keep curtesy and stifle her own giggle at the princess's hint. After they left, Zelda's attention swiftly returned to Jun, "So, Jun, where is Helmsworth? Was he not accompanying you? Is everything alright?"
Before Jun could reply, Lord Arasmus interjected, "And who, pray tell, is this Helmsworth? Why does his absence seem to cause such a stir?" His icy blue gaze fell sharply upon Jun.
"Only the best prospect enlisted in the tournament!" Jun boasted, diverting Arasmus's attention with his claim.
"Really?" Arasmus's tone dripped with skepticism. He saw nothing but a child in dire need of manners. Something he would very much like to dole out himself if given the chance.
"Yeah, and he could totally wallop you or any of your goons in a duel! So, if you know what's good for ya, you'd best steer clear from him! You'll see, were going to win this tournament!" Jun declared, proudly squeezing a fist in the air with a jump shy of clicking his heels.
Zelda watched the exchange with a mix of amusement and intrigue. "We're? What do you mean?" she probed. "I don't understand." Others gathered also raised brows in interest. Zelda was standing alongside Arasmus, several of his men at arms, emissaries from foreign lands and two Rito bowmen.
"Yeah! I'm to be his squire, isn't it great?" Jun's excitement was palpable, his eyes shining with the innocence of youth despite his tough exterior.
"Oh my?" Zelda's voice echoed his enthusiasm, her expression softening. The boy's eagerness was infectious.
Jun rambled on, caught in the thrill of his new role. "Which reminds me, I don't have much time to stay and spin yarns with everybody or sip Zora tea with you but—I, uh, I mean," he paused, suddenly aware of the princess's stature. The sudden glance at her from head to heel made his boyish cheeks blush.
She's so pretty, he thought. As older girls often were in his eyes, though he hardly understood why. Her fairness even more alluring than when he saw her before. Especially, now that she was gowned in a majestic dress of the lushest forest green. And the rose-gold tiara crowned atop her head wove into her hair elegantly. The sheen of its metallic surface glittered with sparkles when it caught the light; even in the gloom of the overcast sky.
Jun may have believed her story earlier when she stated she was the princess, but now he knew she was. There was no room left for doubt, for this girl radiated royalty.
Jun cleared his throat. "I mean, your grace, if it pleases thee." He said, respectfully dropping to one knee. "I—uh, I really should return to him soon, because he'll be needing my help when the tilts begin. That is, if it's no trouble, of course."
With a half smile and sideways glance, she replied. "It's no trouble. I mean, if he is expecting you, then I suppose you should keep your oath as his squire." Zelda's eyes danced with amusement at the idea of the lad squiring for Helmsworth. "It is a very important honor, you know? To be granted that title. I'll be expecting great things from you," she said with an encouraging wink.
"Oh, I know! But, I also made a promise to you too!" Jun replied, momentarily springing up only to remember his position yet again to quickly kneel. "I wanted to at least bring you your mask for tonight, Your Highness. I should at least be able to do that much."
Arasmus, who had been following their conversation with a mixture of impatience and disdain, rolled his eyes, clearly irritated by the boy's audacity.
"Helmsworth said he won't wear one, but I think you and I could change his mind later if we try," Jun added, hinting at a shared conspiracy.
"Oh, is that so?" Zelda leaned, clandestinely to meet him.
"Yeah, but only if he decides to come, that is," Jun confessed.
The princess straightened and cupped her chin, confused. "Hmm, and why wouldn't he join us afterwards? Have I offended him?" she inquired; a hint of worry in her tone.
"Well, Lin—I mean, Helmsworth, said he had to, well…."
"Well what?"
" It's complicated—" Jun began unable to explain what happened when Arasmus began to cut him off.
"Complicated?" Zelda said under her breath.
The tension between the young squire's boldness and Arasmus's arrogance lent an electrifying charge to the air after. Zelda, caught between her amusement at Jun's bravado earlier and her disinterest in Arasmus's courtship, found herself unwittingly at the center of an unfolding drama, her thoughts still lingering on the mysterious Helmsworth as the two went at it.
Jun, the spirited boy who was more a ray of sunshine than a squire, stood defiantly against Lord Arasmus, a man whose ambition was as clear as the dark hair that framed his handsome face.
"So, this contender felt the need to disobey his princess? Is that it?" Arasmus scoffed, turning to Zelda with a guise of protective concern. "Who dares defy a royal summons?"
Zelda deflected lightly. "It was hardly a request, merely an invitation."
Arasmus wasn't having it as if to defend her honor publicly. "Still, it gives him no right. Who is this Helmsworth that he esteems himself above the wishes of her grace?"
Jun, fueled by a loyalty that seemed to extend beyond mere acquaintance, shot back defiantly. He wasn't sure why he was keen on defending Link so much. He had only just met him. But he felt compelled to for whatever reason as if a blot on his honor would be a stain on his own. "Someone who is a lot better than you, that's for sure! You wouldn't be acting so tough if he was here, you know!"
Arasmus, his patience waning, snapped back with a venomous tone. "Why you little... Do you know who I am? Do you know the crest emblazoned across my chest?" His words carried the weight of his lineage, a reminder of the power he wielded.
Jun's eyes darkened and he swallowed about to speak when the lord spoke again, more fiercely. "You mustn't know for if you did, you'd be singing a different tune. Wise men have come to fear this symbol and what it represents."
"Big deal, it's just a silly old snake slithering through fire! There's scores of banners and sigils here with dumb beasts on them too. Who cares?" Jun, countered undeterred with youthful nonchalance.
"This symbol is no mere snake. It's that of the burning serpent of Turtle Rock, boy. The most ferocious beast ever to have roamed this world. Slain only by the power and might of my forebearer who, aided by an upstart hero, depending on who you ask, defeated the ghastly ghoul. Now, if my ancestor could do that to a magnificent monster such as that, think of the power that has passed down to me can do to a little delinquent such as you."
Zelda, observing the escalating tension, intervened before either could further their argument. "That's enough My Lord, he's just a lad. You're not really threatened by a mere boy, are you?" Her words, laced with a subtle attack on Arasmus's pride, seemed to hit their mark. "And you too, Jun, we must show respect for our elders, even if they are stubborn mules," she added, her whisper only for Jun, "Don't worry, he's just jealous because you get to sit next to me in the box while he'll have to abode next to his father listening to his endless droning."
Jun, torn between feeling slighted and amused, wasn't sure how to respond. He wasn't just a 'mere boy', he was Jun, the warrior-to-be.
Arasmus stiffened. "I fear no man or child and I certainly don't mince words with brats who should know their place—" The lord's brows raised with suspicion. "Speaking of which, where are your parents?"
"I never knew my parents," Jun lied swiftly, maintaining his composure under the lord's scrutiny.
"Then what business does an orphan boy have being a man's squire? Where did you come to learn the ways of war?" Arasmus's interrogation continued, and he narrowed his gaze on the boy, hand firmly placed on the alabaster hilt of his sword. "Come to think of it, you match quite the description of another boy yesterday who thought he was gifted." Arasmus's subtle grin cropped his undertone. "The lad was last seen at Union Junction stealing, except he had silvery hair whereas yours is brown as the mud puddle there." He added with a point to a nearby splash on the ground. "It's only a matter of time before someone gets caught, my men assure me."
"Yeah, only if you're stupid." Jun said back defiantly, wiping his nose from the rain, eyes locked on the lord's matching scowl.
Zelda beamed at Jun's determination to stand his ground. Even still, her growing impatience with the lord's relentless questioning, had her intervening. "He's ten years old, you know. And to answer your question, 'my lord', my father has always said, ten is just the right age to be a proper squire!" She fabricated confidently as if it were doctrine, a hint of pride in her voice. "And he's the King! In case you've hit your head too many times swinging that sword of yours and forgotten. You wouldn't dare question the wisdom of our King, would you?" Her sly smile and knowing glance towards Jun left Arasmus at a loss for words.
"Hmmm," was all Arasmus managed, his suspicions temporarily abated.
Jun, eager to assert his age, had to clarify for what seemed the billionth time, "Hey, I'm nearly ten and two, remember?! How many times must I say it?" But it was if nobody heard him over the discussion.
Arasmus's right-hand man, chimed in, "Well, in either case, the boy should learn to hold his tongue in the presence of his betters and know his place." A Hylian man with a wiry build, judging disposition and a pair of crow eyes which were too scrunched together for any maid to love.
Zelda, stepping in with authority, corrected, "And right now, his place is by my side, if he so wishes. Right, Jun?"
The boy nodded.
"Forgive my man's outburst, Your Highness," Arasmus interjected, pushing his man back harshly, almost causing him to stumble over his black cloak. "You are right."
Zelda gave a sideways glance and then addressed her retinue to clarify, "I invited this boy here to celebrate among us as a guest." She shook her head at Arasmus, her tone light yet pointed. "My oh my, that temper of yours. Even to your own men. You'd think you'd be the one battling it out in today's tourney. Someone needs to blow off some steam, I think," she cracked a phony giggle.
"Perhaps, I shall…" Arasmus murmured, his apology as restrained as his frustration. He cleared his throat after noticing the bustling greetings and cheers had quieted from the spectators, replaced by the soft pitter-patter of rain on grass.
During which a Rito standing beside them also added his two rupees to the conversation to liven it back up. "May I suggest, on that merry note, could we please escape this deluge that has befallen us? Perhaps, a pavilion where we can discuss matters without taking a bath." He said, lifting a wing over his head to avoid the skyfall from splashing over him. It was common knowledge that Rito disliked skyfall. The soaking of their feathers was quite the nuisance, especially during flight. And since the back and forth between lord and boy picked up, so did the rain to match their moods.
The princess twirled to his suggestion, just realizing he had been standing beside them the entire time. "Oh my, where are my manners," she exclaimed, a touch of embarrassment coloring her cheeks. "My Lord Arasmus, are you acquainted with Archmaster Revali of the Rito? Renowned as the swiftest wing and sharpest eye of his people, and perhaps even among all Hylians. His reputation is most impressive."
The lord's eyes fell upon the Rito bowman. "I'm not sure that I have."
Zelda paraded lightly ahead of them toward a nearby canopy of the arena, pausing briefly to beam back at Revali, who seemed slightly taken aback by her sudden acknowledgment "He has graciously agreed to lead the first challenge of our contenders in their initial trial, in the arena of arrows, if I'm not mistaken. Isn't that right, Archmaster?" she inquired, her gaze warm and inviting. He had no idea, but he wasn't about to back down from any call of duty, certainly not in front of all the esteemed guests standing around waiting to hear his reply.
Revali, momentarily flustered, cleared his throat and responded, "Why, yes, of course. It would be my honor to guide these hopefuls to glory, and perhaps uncover a hidden gem among them. Though it may prove folly to hope for such a rare prodigy not unlike myself." His feathers ruffled slightly as he spoke, a mixture of pride and anticipation evident in his posture. "Alas, though, I will do as you ask. And if anyone among them is a diamond in the rough, then I'm just your Rito to find him. Or dare I say, he does not exist, Your Grace."
Arasmus secretly glowered at the proud Rito warrior and chided, "I have no doubt that a warrior of your class will fulfill the princess's expectations and excel in this task laid before him." And with that he turned to the princess standing closer to Jun. "My dear, forgive my harshness earlier. It was misplaced," he finished, screwing up the boy's hair under his cap as a gesture of good will.
Zelda blinked and couldn't believe what she saw or heard come from his mouth. Arasmus, admitting fault? And not only that, apologizing no less? She must have died and gone to the other side for such a miracle to take place. Still, her doubts remained if it were genuine at all. Nevertheless, she had to reconcile and accept his graciousness publicly.
The high lord opened his mouth again to speak when from afar, catching his gaze he spotted his father, High Chancellor Danarus walking side by side with the king no less. They were heading to the royal box among the stands. "On second thought, my Sweet Sundelion, I will have to catch up with you in a bit."
Zelda hated when he called her that but smiled, swallowed her frustration, and listened to his farewell like a good royal daughter should.
"I have words to discuss with my father. If you don't mind that is," he finished.
"Go right ahead, My Lord," Zelda said feigning grace. It took nearly all the will she had to restrain the joy she felt from showing on her face at his departure, even if were for only a short while. But to her shock he didn't just leave. Instead, Arasmus bowed, reached for her hand for faint peck and then took his leave to meet the King's entourage ahead of them. The princess feigned a smile best she could, but all the while could nearly taste the bile in her throat at having to pretend such a charade.
Revali stiffened, still agitated by the High Lord's words even as he departed but before he could speak any more on the subject, a chorus of murmurs rose from guests watching in the nearby arena. The usual clamor of clinking mugs and the casual chatter that accompanied the breaking of bread gradually subsided, giving way to a palpable air of anticipation. Guests shifted in their seats, eyes wide with curiosity, as a remarkable spectacle began to unfold before them atop the soft white sands of the arena.
Across the way through an iron gate rolled a series of large contraptions, shrouded in covers that hid their true nature. They bore a striking resemblance to the one Zelda and Helmsworth had encountered earlier, but now there were six of them, each harnessed to a robust team of oxen. Zelda, along with Jun and the others, watched in awe as these mysterious objects came into view. Instantly, she forgot about having to deal with Arasmus. Even if it were for a little while.
Breathless, the princess could hardly imagine what these giant items of great importance could be. Tarps covered them, and each were being handled by a pair of Sheikah researchers led by Purah and Robbie at the front.
Purah's voice cut through the crowd's murmur, her enthusiasm barely contained. "See! Check it! Didn't I tell you I had a surprise for you!?" she exclaimed; her eyes gleaming with excitement as she walked into Zelda's view.
Zelda blinked, hardly able to reply when at that same instant from behind her, the voice of her uncle called out also. "We, have a surprise for you. I think she meant to say, we." Her Uncle's voice boomed to the adoration and cheer of the people. "It is our honor to present to you, your birthday gift, as promised, Sweet Niece."
"Yeah, sure, sure, you helped, but—" Purah mumbled under her breath when her serious sister Impa nudged her back into silence. Impa was in no mood for anything to spoil the evening.
Zelda was taken aback by it all but managed to express her curious feelings over the mysterious cargo that had occupied half of the stadium. "I know you said you had a surprise for me, dear uncle, but unless my eyes deceive me, I see six surprises! You never said anything about-" her face lit up with intrigue. The princess deeply fancied mysteries and now seeing that Purah and Robbie were in cahoots with her uncle, her suspicions as to what fascinations they had in store ran wild in her curious mind.
Prince Arcturus, joining the group Zelda stood with, placed an arm over her shoulder for a hug before stepping away to gesture grandly towards the mysterious cargo. "Indeed, but the revelation must wait until after your ascension. We shall uncover these secrets together as a kingdom," he reassured.
Purah, unable to contain her excitement, implored, waving her hand across the spectacle, "Ah, come on! Let's have a sneak peek now! Just a tiny glimpse won't hurt!" The people roared in approval at her suggestion.
Even though inwardly she was just as excited as the Sheikah scientist, outwardly, Zelda held her eagerness at bay. She was about to reply but realized that the crowd among the stands quieted, and all eyes had fallen on her waiting for a decision.
Zelda felt a wave of nervousness churn in her stomach, her voice faltering as she tried to speak. The weight of numerous eyes upon her stripped her defenses, leaving her feeling exposed and vulnerable. Each perceived flaw seemed magnified under their collective gaze, making her feel as if she stood there, nakedly bare, and isolated. This moment marked her first public address in a capacity truly befitting a princess of her stature.
In the past, she had always been shielded by the presence of others, whether it be her father or other dignitaries. Their words and actions drawing attention away from her own insecurities. But today, there was no such veil to hide behind. For she was a child no longer. This was a defining moment – a test of her ability to either rise or fall. Sink or swim.
Amidst this overwhelming tide of anxiety, a familiar and heartening voice reached her ears, bolstering her spirit. Urbosa's words, warm and filled with encouragement, flowed like a gentle breeze, "Well, go on little bird, you got this. The day is yours." Zelda felt a renewed sense of strength and purpose with her mentor's supportive whisper. The words were a beacon of assurance in the sea of her doubts, reminding her of the strength she possessed within.
"R—right," Zelda said calmly, realizing then that she needed to boom her voice. For those seated at the top of the stands her couldn't hear her faint whispers. The princess cleared her throat, gazed round about, and lifted her chest proudly to face them all and spoke again. "I have decided we must respect tradition," she started. "And in doing so, the counsel of my uncle is right, Purah, we must have patience. The gifting ceremony isn't until after I have taken up the holy vow. And with that, I too, must show restraint and humble my heart to these desires." She finished, leaving the crowd murmuring again amongst themselves.
"B—but, princess you are the one who makes the decrees, whatever you desire is—" Purah challenged, as a friend often would when revealing surprises.
"-But nothing, you heard her!" Urbosa's authoritative voice cut through Purah's protest. "We will wait. These fascinating devices which are held secret are not going anywhere."
Zelda's eyes lit up at the words of her dear friend now standing side by side with her. And, a clue she let slip. Fascinating devices? Hmm, I wonder what they could be? The princess stewed on the matter thoughtfully and then sighed. Alas, the mystery will have to wait. She shook her head, remembering what needed to happen first. First the tourney, then the feast and then, the Trial of the Flame.
Purah wiped away false tears and relented with a grin, "Fine then, we will wait if it's the wish of the princess."
Zelda nodded, her smile reflecting the joy and anticipation of the moment.
"Okay then, you heard her!" Purah announced with a flourish, snapping her fingers in the direction of the men. This included Robbie, who was visibly struggling to coordinate with the others. Beads of sweat adorned his forehead, and although he was evidently flustered – a fact not lost on Zelda from her vantage point – he seemed determined to mask his irritation from her gaze. Purah, on the other hand, reveled in Robbie's discomfort, teasing him with a mischievous glint in her eye to hasten his efforts. "And let's snap to it! Time to kick off the tourney and get to the real fun! Everyone, clear the field; the show is about to begin!"
As trumpets sounded their jubilant songs, signaling the onset of the festivities, banners of all colors, shapes and sizes fluttered valiantly in the breeze, setting the stage for the acrobats. Tumblers, with their flips and cartwheels, took the field, performing an array of breathtaking acrobatics to the raucous applause and joy of the onlookers. Minstrels sang heartily in their wake, while jugglers hurled their spectacles skyward, some wreathed in dazzling flames, adding to the festive spirit. Amidst this exhilarating frenzy, Zelda signaled to her entourage that it was time to proceed to their seats in the Royal box.
However, as they began to move as a group, Jun discreetly caught the hem of Zelda's gown, his touch feather-light. "My apologies, Your Highness," he said earnestly, "but the sound of the horns…I think they mean for me to head back to Helmsworth and the others. The tilts are to begin any minute now and he is probably in need of my help. So, if you don't mind that is, I bid your leave?"
The princess offered a gentle blink of understanding. "Of course, I don't mind at all. Just be sure to seek me out once your duties with Helmsworth are concluded. The guards are instructed to allow you access. So, please, make sure you're there. There's a grand feast planned afterward, and I fully expect to see you."
Jun's eyes glinted with anticipation. "Oh, don't worry! I wouldn't miss it for the world!" he exclaimed. The prospect of a lavish meal was not something to take lightly for him; such gourmet indulgences were rare treasures in his life, and an opportunity such as this would likely never happen again.
"And when you cross paths with Helmsworth, do convey my apologies if I caused any offense earlier. I'm eagerly awaiting the chance for both of you to join us after the tournament so we can celebrate your victory!"
What happened next took Jun completely by surprise. In his young life, where he thought he had seen it all, this moment caught him flat-footed. Princess Zelda gracefully bent down to his level, her hands gently resting on his shoulders. With a tender motion, she bestowed a soft kiss on each of his cheeks. "And that," she said, her smile radiating warmth, "is for luck. For both of you. Now, don't forget to pass along my well-wishes to Helmsworth. I'm certain you two will exceed all expectations."
Jun was momentarily lost in a daze of warm and fuzzies. While he understood the kisses were in essence truly meant for Link, his young heart couldn't help but flutter. A girl had kissed him! And not just any girl – possibly the cutest blonde beauty in all the realm. His feet seemed to skip on air as he began to dart away, his steps light with excitement.
But Zelda's voice halted him once more, her tone laced with suppressed amusement. "Jun, aren't you forgetting something?" she called out, fighting back a chuckle at his endearing eagerness.
"Oh, yeah! I almost forgot!" exclaimed the boy, his voice brimming with glee as he shook off the whimsical thought of princess kisses. "Here, your mask!"
Zelda, slightly taken aback, eyed him curiously. She couldn't see any sacks or trunks with him, leaving her to wonder how he could have possibly managed to procure a mask. The boy clasped his hands together, bowed his head slightly with a mischievous grin, and announced, "See you in the tournament!" To her astonishment, he didn't hand her anything but instead swiftly turned and vanished into the crowd that were left finding their seats, leaving the princess momentarily baffled, her entourage observing quietly at her side.
It was only after he had disappeared and she began to raise her hand to her chin in contemplation that Zelda realized she was, inexplicably, already holding a mask. Urbosa's mouth opened, marveling also at how he may have conjured up such a magical sleight-of hand.
"But—How?" Zelda murmured, her words trailing off in bewilderment.
Purah, ever observant, leaned in with a knowing glance. "Don't get too excited, I've seen that trick done before. You were clearly distracted," she said, then added with a hint of admiration, "but I must confess, the little chap is quite talented. And if I didn't know any better, I'd say he's got some Sheikah blood in him."
"S-Sheikah? Are you sure?" Zelda's voice was a mix of intrigue and surprise as she carefully examined the mask in her hands. It was crafted in the shape of an owl, with a golden sheen that suggested brass due to its lightness. The interior was impeccably lined with leather, the stitches seamlessly following the contours. What struck her most was how perfectly the mask seemed to crop her face. She couldn't help but wonder, how could he have known which one would suit her so precisely?
"Well, I can't be certain," Purah continued, speculating with a glance at her hand. "He may be Hylian. I mean, he does have brown hair after all-but I suspect some Sheikah blood must flow through his veins if he is able to pull off a stunt like that. Especially, at such a young age."
"Well, Sheikah or Hylian, I'm certain Helmsworth will be glad to have him in his corner when swords start to sing in the melee," she said, embracing the mask close to her bosom. "Come, let's join my father and the others, I'm sure they are expecting us."
And with that, her retinue nodded and as one procession they all made their way to the throng of pillowed seats and lavish first courses that awaited them.
Outside the stadium, where tournament contenders were gathering, Link found himself negotiating with a smithy under the shadow of a pavilion's flap. Amidst the bustle, the sound of horns echoed from the arena, drawing the smith's attention. "Don't those horns blowing mean you ought to be in the challengers' pit by now?" he inquired, cupping his ear to better hear the rousing music outside.
"Yeah, they do," Link admitted, a sense of urgency in his voice. "I've only got about ten minutes left. They told me you're one of the finest metalworkers here for the festival, so I came to you." He leaned casually against the man's workbench, eyes scanning the scales and measures laid out.
"You're heard right!" the man chuckled a full belly laugh.
"Then, could I look at your best blades? And if it isn't any trouble, could you forge me a hefty set of armor? I have the rupees for it, I think."
The smith, pausing to take a thoughtful puff from his pipe, his mustache briefly illuminated by the glowing ember, set it down and stood. "Certainly, you've come to the right place. My wares are fit for a king and I craft the finest armor around!" he declared proudly.
Link harbored his doubts about the claim but was more focused on functionality than prestige. At this point he didn't care. So long as it was durable and could get the job done and was worth its price.
As the smith led him along a display row, an array of weapons glistened like deadly ornaments – spears, halberds, axes, and swords. Among them, a peculiar Hytopian powder cannon caught Link's eye. Resembling a narrow tube with a flared end like a trumpet, and with a decent height standing from boot to shoulder, it was a curious sight indeed.
Link had heard of such oddities from the far side of the world – weapons capable of launching large projectiles with explosive force but has never handled one. He reached out to lift it, surprised by its heft and awkward balance.
Observing Link's interest, the smith chimed in, "Ah, that one there is quite the beauty, isn't it? The Hytopian Fire-Lance they call it." The man chuckled softly as if recollecting the trouble went to obtain such a rare artifact. But I'd advise against using it in a real battle. It's a fickle beast. You're more likely to blow yourself up and be made a feast for carrion than land your target. Damn thing takes nigh on five minutes to reload a charge too. Best considered a collector's item than a weapon for combat."
Link nodded in understanding, his fingers gently tracing the strange runes etched into the cannon's flared end, inscriptions in the native tongue of Hytopia. Even still, the fire-lance captured his imagination. He was only sixteen after all.
"I hear the technology for such devices is still quite new, and those Hytopians haven't worked out all the details yet," the smith continued, retrieving the cannon from Link and placing it back on its stand. "From what I'm told, the Hytopians use them more for theatrics than actual combat." He let out a soft chuckle, then returned to his pipe, taking another leisurely puff. "Yup, put a sturdy bow in my hand and a good quiver of those fancy feathered arrows the Riot use and I could hold off an army of powdermen in the time it takes one to reload." The man boasted once more, his pride in traditional weaponry evident in his exaggeration as if he recollected tales of his youth forgotten to yesteryears.
Perhaps, he was a soldier prior to taking up smithing, Link guessed. Maybe an old war veteran forced to learn the trade of metalwork after an injury took him off the battlefield. Perhaps, that is why he is so confident in his knowledge of warfare. Whatever he was or is now made no matter, Link had to make a decision and fast.
"Actually, on second thought, I think I'd much prefer the pollaxe," said Link, reaching for the weapon to pick up.
"Ah yes, a knight's true weapon." The smithy added with confidence. "I can see your aspiration guides you well. You sure know your weapons."
Link's grip tightened around the poleaxe, feeling its robust and masterfully crafted form. The blade, glinting keenly in the flickering brazier light, was honed to a lethal sharpness, promising precision and depth in each strike. On the opposite end, the hammer, embedded with menacingly pointed studs, projected a sense of unyielding strength. Yet, its heft was meticulously balanced against the blade, ensuring that neither end overpowered the other. This harmony between the two made the weapon not just formidable but also graceful in its execution, a seamless extension of Link's own arm. The poleaxe was a testament to the art of warcraft, blending lethality and agility in equal measure.
"Surprisingly light, isn't it?" the smithy boasted with evident pride. "That's castle-forged steel for you, not the common iron you'll find in lesser workshops. No, sir!" he exclaimed, his fist punching the air as if toasting with an invisible mug to cheer.
As Link examined the weapon with interest, the smith continued, "I learned my craft from a master of the Royal Steelhearths Guild when I was just a lad, a few years older than you are now. Not many are given the opportunity, but I was."
Link raised his eyes, intrigued, still clasping the poleaxe firmly.
"The skill to forge such steel is rare," the smith went on. "Only a handful of castle smiths today know the secret techniques. It's an arduous process, but the quality is unmatched. And yet, what we achieve today is but a shadow of a bygone era's mastery."
Link's attention sharpened, his gaze flickering with curiosity at the smith's words.
The man turned away for a moment, his eyes lingering on an ancient tapestry that depicted the noble lineage of the old Guild. "In the days of old, the great forge-masters held the secrets of the lost dwarven arts of metallurgy. They worked with Dragonsteel, or Magicsteel as it's commonly known now, but I recall its true name," he said, his voice tinged with nostalgia. "Crystalline! An unmatched alloy with no rival. Save be the sword of legend, of course."
He then stepped closer to Link, lowering his voice as if sharing a confidential secret. "If such a blade even exists that is, lying hidden somewhere in the world... But, alas, that knowledge has been lost to time, and what you see here is the pinnacle of what we can achieve today."
A brief silence fell between them, filled with the weight of history and lost arts. Link, still holding the poleaxe, was drawn out of the reverie by the smith's hearty laughter.
Link relaxed slightly, realizing he was still gripping the weapon. He decided to test its balance with a few expert swings against the air. Swords were symbols of status and skill, but as his father had always taught him, the poleaxe was a true warrior's choice on the battlefield. A sword was a companion for swift escapes, but in the heat of combat, the poleaxe was an ally like no other. This, he decided, would serve him well.
The smith took another leisurely puff from his pipe, his eyes twinkling with the satisfaction of watching Link test out his wares and the delight of closing shop early.
The young man had selected a diverse array of weapons: an arming sword for quick retreats, a lance for the joust, and a handful of daggers for just in case all else fails. "I'll take it. And the others," Link declared, his voice brimming with eager anticipation. His eyes shimmered with the thrill of owning his own arsenal for once in his life. "These are great. This will serve me well today." Yes, with these I may actually have a fair advantage.
Link wasn't a cheater by any stretch of the imagination but even still, wanted to have the most favorable odds in his favor. This wouldn't be easy. The kingdom's best would be coming out in full force against him.
It was then the smithy had an epiphany, putting two and two together. "Hold on a second, you're not planning to use these in the tournament, are you?"
Link blinked confused by his meaning. "Well, yeah, why wouldn't I? why else would I be buying them?"
"You do understand that there's rules to this grand affair today, right? Like, for starters, no killing. Gracious me, you can't use these for the tourney." The man shook his head, flabbergasted anyone would be so close to the competition and yet, not know the rules. Link held a blank stare, he was unsure. This was the first he heard of such a thing.
"C'mon lad, surely you knew that these sorts of weapons shan't be used in competition. People left and right would be getting seriously injured or worse. This is a sport, not a battle. It's about combat, yes, but in a manner that's both jovial and respectful of noble tradition."
"Then if these can't be used, what shall I fight with?"
"Well, bronze of course! Why else do you think the challengers will all be clad in plate armor? Because bronze can't bite iron," the man chuckled knowingly to himself before adding a clarification. "Well, I guess that isn't entirely truthful, but for the most part it is. I mean, I suppose if one hacks away hard and long enough anything is possible, but the intent is for spectacle only, not to slay your opponent. The goal is to dose out enough opposing force to subdue them. Either until the pain is too great from the battering or they yield."
"Well, in that case, I should try and save my rupees and go for boiled leather then." Link decided. "That way I can afford a meal for me and Jun prior. I hate fighting on an empty stomach and it's terrible luck too, father always says," he said, almost assuring himself and the blacksmith. He then raised his glance to meet the man. "Also, plate would be too heavy right? And if I'm swifter on my feet, I may have an advantage against a brute clad in full armor. He may tire out and I can beat him that way."
Well, yes, and….no, I wouldn't count on it." The man shook his head with a sigh. "I don't recommend boiled leather for this either."
"Why? Because it's cheaper?" Link asked suspiciously. "You said weapons used for the tilts aren't meant to kill or maim."
"Aye, but accidents do happen, you know. This may be a mummer's show of war, and rules are in place to prevent travesties from happening, but it's still a battle. Bronze can tear flesh just as easily as iron can if nicked in the right place. In fact, long ago before the age of heroes, all men fought with bronze." The middle-aged man explained. "Also, boiled leather may be the cheaper option, but know this, you can bet your opponents will be sparing no expense to guard themselves. You would be left at a disadvantage having constantly to move in close. And by the time a dozen of your strikes had chipped away at their armor, or wretched their sword loose, you'd be cut to ribbons."
"But don't you worry, I have a mirrored set of bronze just like those steel ones there." He assured before shaking his head again to bring up another point to consider. "Also, if you're planning on wearing armor for the tournament, there's no way I'd be able to craft you a set in time-but I have plenty of other sets available, shiny and new. Some just your size in fact."
Feeling a sense of urgency of the time, Link pointed to a suit of steel behind the workbench. "Well, in that case, how about that one there, with the wolf helm, that one looks well enough."
The smith's laughter resonated heartily, mingling with a fit of coughing as a cloud of pipe smoke got the best of him. "You're a funny lad! That's more than well enough, that's my finest work. Are you sure you have the sum for it and the weapons. Speaking of which, the bronze counterparts are more costly than iron. They are double. You do know that, right?"
"Double! What? Why?" Link's eyes widened in disbelief.
"Because copper is hard to come by these days now that the old mines at Sunstone Quarry froze over. The miners who once lived there and those brave enough to venture since now call it Winterbane Quarry. For a dark force has awoken and lingers there, causing an eternal winter to befall its mountain summit."
Hearing the tale even ran a chill up Link's spine, but he didn't flinch to let the smithy know it. Nor did he have time to dwell on mysteries of faraway lands.
"How much for the suit then?" Link leaned; arms stretched across the table and dumped out the gems in his wallet all over.
"Well, seeing that the weapons will be bronze, and the suit of mail and plate will be steel, castle forged mind you, your grand total comes out to let's see…" The man worked over the numbers in his head while he wiggled his mustache and bent his brows back and forth every which way. "I'd say…two-hundred and fifty-three rupees. Ah, heck, let's just make it an even two-hundred and fifty and we'll call it square, what do you say? You good with that, lad?"
The price hit Link like a punch to the gut. "Two-hundred and fifty! That's almost double that I have?" Sheesh, just my luck, first that pigheaded enlister and now the blacksmith is standing in my way.
"Well, like I said, bronze costs double. And that fancy suit you picked was for another. But even so, I was willing to sell it to you because you are here and now. So, what is it going to be?"
"Look, I need to be in this tournament, that's why I need these wares. Please, what do I need to do?"
"Well, the wares you seek come with a price, and you lack the rupees to afford such a suit of mail and plate, I'm afraid."
"But I haven't anymore rupees, I'm giving you all I have. I swear, if I would have known I'd be robbed of a fair price at this festival, I would have never sold my family's sword." Link said quietly, almost to himself, yet the smith heard.
"Look, I'm not cheating you lad. I feel for you. I really do, but I've got a business to run. I can't be handing out charity to every hopeful boy or bloke that comes stumbling under my tent flap."
A wave of new trumpets blared, this time signaling the quieting of the songs and merrymaking, ushering the start of the tourney. Panic set in for Link.
"Look, I'm running out of time, is there anything else I can do? If I win, I'll give you half the bounties I collect, I swear. I won't cheat you." His eyes flashed sincere, yet the man had to stew a moment on it before deciding.
"I don't doubt your honesty, I just doubt your sword arm. I'm sorry, I've seen the men enlisted and they will chew you up and spit you out, boy. Perhaps, a suit of boiled leather may suffice. That is, if you're still bent on competing That I'm sure you can afford. And perhaps, with that and the bronze you may be able to walk out of here."
"But, you said I would hardly stand a chance with leather?"
"Aye, but a slim chance is still a chance. How bad do you want this?"
Link's fists clenched at his sides, his eyes alight with an unwavering resolve. "More than you can imagine."
"I can imagine quite a lot," the man chuckled, on the verge of wanting to help more when he realized Link's state of dress. He was already wearing gear and up until now, it just dawned on him why he couldn't use it.
The shopkeeper was so wrapped up with making a sale he didn't take a moment to consider the situation of Link's uniform he wore. "Hmm, well if you like, if you're willing to trade the armor you already have on, you know, the Royal Gear you shouldn't be wearing, I might make an exception to match the missing rupees you lack." He said, leaning arms stretched over the counter as if to strike a deal.
"But, know this, it will involve a great deal of effort from me to melt down and work. I'm sure you're aware that you don't need me to tell you that I can't give you the suit of armor you fancied custom crafted. There's no way it would be ready, but what I can do is give you a spare set already made. It's used, but still shines strong and true. What do you say?"
"Well, what about the new wolf one there? Does this deal cover that?"
"I'm sorry, but even with the armor you give me, you still wouldn't be able to afford it. The work alone I'd have to do to use your—"
"-Okay, fine, you got a deal. I'll take the old set. I must hurry," Link said adamantly.
"Very well, then lad, let's see. With the set you're giving me and the rupees for all that you want purchased, your new total comes out to oh—One hundred and ten rupees. Fair enough?"
Link quickly tallied his gems, relieved to find he had just enough, with a mere seven rupees to spare. He could only hope that seven was indeed a lucky number. He was going to need every bit of it in the tilts.
"Whoa, whoa, wait a minute, before you run off there. Aren't you going to need a bow too? Ya know, for the archery trial?"
"Archery trial?" Goddess, what else is next? Link thought.
"Well, yeah, of course. They are testing all the skills that make up a true warrior worthy for the final trials."
"Ugh," Link felt defeated already, so much for the luck. He hadn't the rupees left for a bow. Not even close.
It was then that out of nowhere, when all his hope seemed lost, Jun, the bright-eyed squire rushed in through the tent flap. "Sir! There you are, I found you. You have no idea how many of these jerks I had to—"
Link spun to cut him off. "Never mind that, Jun, have they started the tourney yet?"
"No, I told them they better wait if they know what's good for them. I told the herald guarding the front that if he starts calling names before were ready I make him eat that trumpet."
"You didn't?" Link said, shocked by the boy's bravado.
"I sure did," Jun said proudly, not before realizing what was happening around him. "But, wait a minute…What are you doing?"
Link replied with a hint of sarcasm, "Oh, you know, just enjoying some tea."
"Huh?" Jun looked puzzled for a moment.
"I'm buying gear, what does it look like? How else am I to contend without weapons and armor of my own?"
"Well, did you find anything you like?"
"Lots I like," Link noted.
"Then let's go. What are we waiting for? She's expecting us to put on a good show, you know?"
"Who?" interrupted the shopkeeper.
"The princess of course, who else!" Declared Jun. The boy looked at the man curiously and leaned back for a question. "Who are you again?"
"I, my lad, am the—"
"He's the smith," Link cut him off. 'There's no time to explain. It's his shop."
"Well, let's go already." Jun insisted. "I don't really feel like dealing with that herald again if I don't have to."
"I can't yet."
"Why?"
"Because he has yet to buy a bow." Explained the smithy. "And unfortunately for him, he hasn't the rupees for one."
"Geeze, why didn't you just say so, here, take mine." Jun said nonchalantly as if it was no big deal at all. "How much does he owe?"
Link nearly fell over. "You had rupees the entire time!? What!?"
"No, not the entire time, but I do now. Take mine."
Link considered for a moment. "I can't use your rupees Jun, they are yours. It isn't right of me to ask you for them. I'll have to make do another way—"
"-Nonsense, they are ours," Insisted the boy, spilling a sack of gems on the table. "And besides, the jackpot we get from the tournament will be more than enough to pay back, no sweat. I want to win this thing and I need you to do so."
The shopkeeper's eyes sparkled at the sight of Jun's gems, while Link, seeing the determination in Jun's eyes and realizing the practicality of the offer, gave in. The boy had a stubborn streak in him and well, he did have the right of it. The money earned from the bounties surely would be enough to pay back whoever the rupees belonged to. But, he'll speak to him about that later. Right now, he just needed a bow and quickly.
"Well then, everything seems in order," the shopkeeper remarked, meticulously counting the rupees. "That's one hundred and seventy-seven. This will certainly fetch you a fine bow, one from my private collection. Brand new too." He hurried over to where a series of bows were displayed, each hanging elegantly like a tapestry on a wooden rack. "Ah, here," he said, selecting one. "Try this one with your arm. How does it feel?"
Link grasped the bow, immediately noticing its balanced weight and the smoothness of its finish.
"That's deku cedar, you know," He said with a smirk. "All the way from Hebra Holdfast. It's Ritoan. Feel that pull?"
Link drew on the string and it nearly took his breath away. "I—I don't feel anything? How is that possible-?" he said, shocked.
"Exactly…" the man said proudly. Jun, too, watched in awe. The bow was a work of art, adorned with silver inlays and colorful, yet menacing looking feathers along its curve.
The man continued. "The Rito have devised a magical mechanism by which there is no flex against the forearm when the bow is drawn. Exquisite, isn't it? You merely aim and loose with hardly any effort. A man can launch arrows all day and never tire."
"This is perfect," Link said, a genuine smile breaking across his face for the first time in hours. He shared a glance with Jun, who nodded encouragingly, as if urging him not to waste another second.
Link spoke. "I'll take this, the others, and the used suit of armor—"
"Oh, no my lad. You misunderstand me."
Oh no, what now, Link thought, bracing for another obstacle.
The shopkeeper continued with a jovial laugh, "With the rupees your friend here provided, and the armor you're trading in, you'll be glad to hear you have more than enough. Not just for this exquisite bow, but also for the wolfen suit of armor." He reached for his pipe once again, content with the deal well struck.
The smithy added with another chuckle. "I must say, you know how to pick your weapons well. I might close ups shop early. You're a lad with royal tastes."
Jun jovially elbowed Link before he could reply. "Oh, he definitely has royal tastes, alright."
By sheer reflex, Link reacted with a swift hand and gave Jun a clout on the ear from behind. "Hey, what was that for!?" the young squire whined, rubbing the soreness. "Sheesh, is that how you say thank you?"
"Thanks." Was all that Link managed to say, before glancing down to give a sideways smirk. That ought to teach him a little manners, I hope.
Jun smiled back and the smithy spoke a final word on the matter. "Best of luck to the both of ya, go get em!"
And with that, Link and his squire joyfully took the wares and made off to the challenger's pit to await introduction.
Authors Notes: Hello friends, this one was a doozy and I'm not an expert author, so please, if you enjoyed it, let me know with a comment. It really helps the story. Lastly, if you're subscribed for notifications on fanfic dot net, there's been a lot of issues here with the site. Make sure you enable notifications again. The site cancels subs by default after 6 so much and until next time, stay well wherever you are in Hyrule