Chapter Two

"You hear that, Link?" Zelda cooed, "We found a stable!"

He attempted a nod, laying helplessly in her lap, eyes deathly fixed on the receding canopy of apple branches. A tribal horse head, the tent's top, braved the dark, stormy sky – flags whipping, ties breaking, tent flaps snaking free as clouds billowed into the camp like sea waves. Thunder moaned, spooking the paddock of horses in the tent's yard. They scrambled past, people bombarding them as they broke through the gate of the the fence.

"What the hell happened, Lawdie?"

"Don't know!" Yelled the stablemaster, pulling their horse down from a rear when another round of thunder rolled, "Just found them! Someone! Go get my wife!"

"She's fixing the tent!" Zelda heard, people peeling off – some calling for the woman, others snatching saddles and wares from the threat of the squall as its winds dragged rags, clotheslines, and loose hay across the grounds.

"Leekah!" Yelled the stablemaster, pulling them to the front desk. He slapped a bell thrice, "Leekah, I need you!"

"Lawdon!" Someone answered - his wife. She surged the desk, towing a little girl by the wrist. "I told you not to go out! A storm's coming, and I can't reach the tent flaps over there and - "

"This isn't the time, woman!"

"Dear Malanya!" Her eyes went wide on Link, "Who do you have here?"

Zelda shielded Link's wound from the little girl, but she began to wail anyway.

"Don't let her look, Leekah!"

"Wait! I know this boy!" Scurried the woman, shoving the girl back, "This is the boy who cleared out the monster camp next door!"

"You say that about every boy!"

"No, this is him!" She squealed, "My Malanya, are you alright, child?"

Link wheezed, suddenly cut off by the innkeeper, "Of course, he's not! Go get a bench or something he can bleed on!"

"Fine, fine, fine!" Huffed the woman, scurrying back into the tent.

"Gods." Spouted the stablemaster – he rounded their horse, opening his arms, "And you, Lassy, give 'em to me. I can take him."

Zelda braced – clinging to Link like a hatchling to a nest. Only two hours had passed since a violent birth from the belly of the Calamity – a daring ride, a ruined word, flaming guardians, smokey hellscapes, slaughtered villages. All of it amounted to a world of evil where this stranger could murder Link upon receiving him.

"We can help him, Lassy." She heard, doubts flurrying - was this the right place? Or a facade? A brood of vipers – Yiga, no less – waiting to slit their throats? How could she trust this stranger? An outerlander, no less?"

Yet, the man stood patiently at the foot of their horse - as if he understood, "I won't hurt him, lass."

Zelda peered over, scouring every bit of his face – bright eyes, dark freckles, sharp nose, scraggly beard – fearing the weight of this world as it bore into her.

"He's gonna be okay," he contended, "But you have to give him to me."

"You won't hurt him?"

"No. I can help him."

"And charge you a fortune for it!" Someone heckled.

"Ignore them." Droned the stablemaster. "We can talk about a price later."

"Okay." She finally nodded.

"Okay?"

She huffed — daring herself, she let go.

"That's it, Lassy! C'mon - you got it!"

"I beg of you," Zelda wailed, lowering him into the arms of the innkeeper, "be gentle with him! We think his arm's broken. There's a gash in his side and - "

"That's just fine - we have some potions here," said the stablemaster, receiving him – he stumbled back, Link's weight almost knocking him to the ground. "Damn! How much does this kid weigh? He can't be no more than five-three or - "

Zelda swang after them, catching eyes as she clambered off the horse. The stablemaster fell silent – the white prayer gown unfurling. She followed his gaze to the royal satin – singed, frayed, and blood-stained, yet alarmingly elegant in comparison to everyone else's attire. Caught, she began bunching it in her hands.

"Y-Your dress is - " stammered the man.

But his wife interrupted, "Quit ogling the hen!"

"I-I wasn't I – "

"Go help the damn hero!"

"Sorry, lass, don't mean to — "

"Go!"

Cussing, the man turned hot on his heels, running Link into the tent.

"Wait! " Zelda took off after them - as if the curtains of death would close between her and her hero after a century of waiting.

"Hunny, hunny, wait! Lemme get you something!" Intercepted the wife – darting from the front desk, but Zelda pushed past her — ankles quivering, thighs splitting, stumbling through the saddle soreness, tripping twice on the dusty floor in hot pursuit after Link as horses shrieked, dogs barked, guests frenzied. His eyes closing, blackened sockets deepening, mouth pursing, blood dribbling between his lips. Signs of death raptured him, triggering something evil from within the Princess of Hyrule. Stark memories flashed - Urbosa, Revali, Daruk, and Mipha, crimson afternoons, malevolent sunshine, ground-shattering strides of colossal beasts, blue lights splattering blood-red, commotion swirling and tangling until thunder cracked!

Zelda jumped! – hurling herself into the back of the innkeeper.

"Y'alright, lass?" He turned, having laid Link on a bench.

Pain in her nose tingled - a sharp prickle, strange and precious.

"Here," said the man, pulling up a chair, "Sit down."

Zelda sank into the chair, pressing her hands to her nose. Sinuses tickled – tears bubbled.

The stablemaster neared her face, "I didn't break it, did I?"

Zelda shook her head - reacquainting herself with pain. Heat swelled beneath the bridge.

"Leekah? Can I get that from you?" She heard. A hot towel was placed in her hands. It scorched the skin of her palms so wonderfully – Zelda pressed her face into it and wiped her eyes.

"Got her some water too," came the Missus, setting a chipped glass into her hands. Zelda followed her hand to her face —a beautiful woman, looking both Hylian and Outerlander. No less, the third person she had really seen in a century. Subdued, Zelda searched every feature - warm eyes, dark skin, smooth cheekbones, chapped lips. She followed the five moles down her neck to the two coarse braids adorned in traditional, pink Hyrulean ties. And oh! – she was even pregnant! Zelda gawked at the belly, impulsively reaching out to feel the rotund belly.

"Five months since the deed." Winked the woman – she brought Zelda's hand to her stomach.

Zelda flushed, heat coloring her cheeks. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to reach – "

"I'm used to it! Go on! – feel!"

Zelda nodded shyly, taking in its warmth. It was fragile and quiet but no less a promise of life. She closed her eyes, feeling a slight kick.

"Feel that?" Smiled the mother.

Zelda huffed, a tear free-falling. She wiped it, drinking in the impoverished stable around them. A dormitory - lit up with gas lanterns and bolstered by a termite-bitten totem, holding up the high rafters where half a dozen nests resided. Flighty finches flew between them, whirling around the tent's heights, diving down the length of the moth-eaten tapestry – on it was the old Hyrulean crest buried beneath droppings and opaque layers of dust. Beds encircled the room, each one paired with a rickety end table tied up with chicken wire. Guests caught her eyes next - they loitered around to get a better look at Link while children ran between them playing hide-n-seek. Beyond them, a mother was nursing in what appeared to be a dining corner of the tent, seated among a half dozen others. Mugs, beer bottles, and cards littered their table - if one would call a bundle of hay topped with a plaid picnic blanket a table.

"This is for the lad," Zelda heard. The Missus had returned with an elegant bottle gleaming amber in the torchlight.

"Offer it all." Said the stablemaster, retrieving a crate of tools from beneath the bench- within it, potions, scissors, pliers, and a few bundles of gauze.

"Feelin' generous are we, Lawdie?"

"Don't think generous is the word." Lawdon grimaced, lighting a match. "Damn it. Matches are damp."

"S-Sir?" Came a voice, hoarse and weak. Zelda peered up - Link. The Missus helped him sit up for the cup of liquor, "A-A message. How can I… send?"

He was trying to alert the Sheikah.

"You've got bigger problems to worry about here." And with a curt apology, he drew scissors from the crate and ran them through the threads of his sodden tunic - the champion's tunic, bloody, cut in half. Zelda froze, beholding Link's state – had his stomach been torn open completely? Where did the gash begin? Where did it end? Maroon burns dabbled his ribs, framing the gory window lined with pebbles and grime.

"Bottom's up." Wheezed the stablemaster as his wife helped Link drink.

Zelda watched him incredulously – the untouchable knight, appointed by the late King of Hyrule, was bleeding to death on a shoddy bench. What should have been a celebration was a funeral. A goblet of wine was a chipped mug of whiskey forced to his mouth. A sprawling feast replaced by a bloody bench. A king's grateful speech was a world away while his party guests lay trapped beneath piles of ancient rubble – a testament to her last memory in the Old World: castle granite shattering, corpses littering the streets, tents and booths squashed beneath the onslaught of whirring machinery. Terror, anguish, guilt, and then suddenly nothing – a golden prism whiting out the noise while the Calamity swallowed her whole.

A sudden shatter raptured the Princess of Hyrule - she flinched, having dropped her water cup.

"No worries." Laughed the Missus, "Happens all the time."

"Miracle we have any cups at all." Droned the stablemaster, offering his hand, "C'mon. Up."

Zelda scampered to her feet, "Y-You can save him, yes? You have enough potions? Know how to cauterize a gash? How to stitch up a wound? You have clean utensils?"

"Woah, woah, look , lassy — "

"Are you certified to operate on him?"

"Certified? Look, I'm gonna try my best here - have'ta do a hybrid of potion and needles, but I suggest you prep for the worst. That's kind of the law out here."

"No, no, no, you don't understand! – "

"Listen, lassy."

"No! You listen - "

"You can't be causing a scene while I'm trying to — "

"He has to live! He has to! He's all I have left."

"S-Sir?" Someone interrupted – Link again. He laid on the Missus's shoulder, "To send a message. I-I can pay."

"Link," Zelda sobbed, "Please, this isn't the time."

"Yeah, kid – let's get you through the night first."

"I-I… can… pay… " He repeated – every word more exasperated than the last, "O-One…thousand…rupees."

The room froze.

"Um – what was that, kid?"

"O-One-thousand rupees… f-for the message delivery."

People scoffed around them.

"U-Um," Huffed the innkeeper, looking between the duo. And with an exasperated whistle, he turned over his shoulder and addressed the silenced room, "Does anyone want a job? Relaying a message?"

Half a dozen ruffians raised their hands like school-children.

"Mind you, we have a storm blowing through! Won't be a walk in the park." Hands became more urgent, and with a slight shrug, the stablemaster uncorked the first potion, "Well, uh, go ahead, lassy - go pick a messenger. Leave us be for a sec."

Zelda frowned. No, she wouldn't comply if the Sheikah had come to take her, but she could honor Link's request and pray it would allow him peace in such dire straights. She stood up to the small crowd of strangers, counting the eyes, smirks, and quirked brows as the free-fall of public speaking raptured her after a century of void isolation, "W-We need someone to relay a message to the Sheikah of Kakariko." And when the group of men got rowdier, she pressed on, "No payment unless the messenger can return with proof that the Sheikah have been notified!"

The group roughened. Zelda grew impatient, quickly choosing a candidate — a scrawny fellow with a swift horse. Thinking fast, she sent him with a tear from her dress. And with shaking hands, she found a dagger in Link's cloak on the ground – an ostentatiously beefy blade with a serrated neck! She shoved it through a lock of her hair - two feet long – and rolled it in the satin before wrapping it in a parcel that the Missus had provided her.

Should a Sheikah see it and remember her? Was there a living member in Kakariko that recalled the royal family? Before she could second-guess herself, the man was off to retrieve his horse for the journey east.

"Leekah!" Zelda heard, hustling back to the bench, "Dry matches. Water. Clean towels!"

A small boy about the age of nine handed his father another crate. Next came the daughter - the same they had who they had scared the living daylights out of earlier - shuffling in with a chipped mug. She was a messy thing of six or seven years, sloshing a few drops left and right before coming to a complete stop and blindly offering Zelda the cup.

"W-What this?" Zelda cooed, hoping to ease the little one, but she took off in the other direction, leaving a hot mug in Zelda's hand. Distracted, Zelda watched her go, not seeing the Missus drop a shot into her tea – she took a sip.

"Wouldn't want'a leave you out, hunny." Winked the Missus.

Zelda recoiled in disgust.

"Too strong?"

Zelda seethed.

"Not everyone's as psyched about alcohol as you, Mrs. Preggers." Droned the stablemaster, pouring the last of the potion over Link's wound.

"Well, you can thank Mrs. Preggers!" retorted the Missus, helping Link down on the bench. "This poor lad is finally at peace. Hello, sir. Are you still with us?"

An uncharacteristic sigh left Link's mouth – soft and dazed.

"Feeling good?" Laughed the Missus.

Link nodded lazily. He was drunk.

"Well, that was fast."

His wife smirked, "I gave him the good stuff, Lawdie."

"Well, enjoy it then, laddie. Got that as a wedding gift."

Zelda tensed, "We can compensate you all if - "

"I'll just add it to the tab, lass. Glad he's not in any pain."

Link kept nodding—as the bow of a boat would. Aimlessly. Strangely —almost goofy!

Never had Zelda seen him this way —and she was ninety-nine percent sure that no one had ever seen Link like this. Silly. Vulnerable, and numb. Half-naked. Cleaned-up. Chest exposed. Lying on his good side.

She ought to have looked away, especially when his watery eyes fluttered open, catching her gaze. He was blushing —as if he had been the one caught, studying her hair in a daze. Did it look messy? Was it all tangled? – she smoothened it back before averting her eyes.

But he teetered him off the bench, triggering Zelda — she swooped in to steady him.

"Uh oh," he slurred.

She caught his weight, blushing, "I-I have you, Link."

"Need help, lassy?"

"No, we're fine." She uprighted him on the bench before backing away from his chest. Reddening cheeks caught her attention — she met his watery gaze curiously, and when he opened his mouth, Zelda neared, thinking he'd say something.

"…Y-You're… really… pretty."

Zelda stared.

The stablemaster smirked.

Link fell back against the bench.

The Missus laughed, "Well, ain't that sweet?"

"No," Zelda cautioned, "He didn't mean - "

"Well, I don't think he means me, lassy!" Piped the stablemaster. Zelda huffed, wishing away the heat in her cheeks as she surveyed the knight in disbelief. He was snoring on the bench now. He really thought she was pretty?

A sudden drumming came to her relief – pittering and pattering against the tent roof, triggering an ancient memory in the Princess of Hyrule. A gray expanse. Petrichor. A musky library. An open window. A comfy chair topped with a book. Rain.

Bewildered, she looked up.

"And there's the rain!" Cheered the Missus behind them. The whole room seemed to pause and listen.

"Leekah?" Called the man, lighting a match. "Go with the lass. Help her wash up out there?"

"Sure can do."

But Zelda waved off the woman, "No, I'd like to stay by his side if that's alright."

"It's not alright – you need a rinse, lass."

"E-Excuse me?"

"No sense in lying to you. You both wreak, and I've already sponged down one of you. C'mon, ya got blood and cuts on you too. Won't have the potions left over if ya get infected. Go wash off."

Zelda frowned, anchoring herself down, "I'd rather stay inside."

"Lassy, look – I wouldn't waste all my potions on him if I were just going to knife him behind your back."

"As if you could handle a knife, Lawdie!" Someone heckled from behind – a large brute with six or seven face piercings. Five other men laughed.

"Ignore them." Lawdon said. He grabbed a used bar of soap and a hairbrush from the same crate beneath the bench. "Leekah will go out with you and lend you some clothes - clean and dry. Won't take more than a few minutes."

"No, no, I can't." Zelda mouthed – a ghostly panic plaguing her, triggering a world of guardian smoke and whirring sirens.

"Come on, you need it, hunny." She heard, the Missus grabbing her.

"D-Don't touch me!"

Link shot up instinctively.

"Woah! – easy there, laddie!"

"Your wound, hunny!"

Link lunged clumsily, side-stepping in an attempt to grab his sword from the sheath on the ground.

But Zelda jumped on it first, "I'm sorry, Link – it's fine. I'm fine!"

He collapsed drunkenly into her arms, knocking her to the floor. The Missus scampered after them, spewing a slew of expletives as they lifted him back onto the bench. "Malanya, he weighs a ton!"

"That wound didn't open up, did it?" Cussed the stablemaster, inspecting the boy as he rolled back against the bench.

"No," Zelda panted, checking the wound – it was fine. Swollen and oozing among purple bruises, but fine. She parted with the wound only to find his bare chest – rough and battered. She eyed the scars upwards to find his bleary-blue eyes – red and dazed from the drunken stupor, ogling her greasy hair as it fell over them. Other things she should be thinking, but all that came to mind was his words. He really thought she was pretty?

"I-I'm sorry," Zelda whimpered, pulling herself away, "I've caused a scene."

"You'll feel better after a rinse, hunny. Guarantee it."

"B-But what will I - "

"Will you what?"

"W-What will I see outside?"

"What do you mean, hunny?"

Zelda flushed, fearing for everything she had seen that day, "M-More ruins?"

"Oh, don't you worry, hunny, the monsters were cleared out from the ruins last month." Said the woman, misunderstanding. "We're not going to let anything happen to you."

Zelda wanted to believe her. "J-Just out of the well?"

"Just right outside," assured Lawdon, "Won't take more than five minutes."

"Five minutes?" Zelda mouthed, searching Link for a response, and though he looked painfully reluctant and distant – and drunk – he nodded her on and on and on. A lazy finger traced the dagger in the pocket of his cloak on the ground - the same she had used to cut her hair. She understood, clutching the bulge in the fabric before taking the whole cloak with her.

"So, how long have you two been together?" Winked the Missus, helping her out into the rain. Zelda pressed her lips together, too dumbfounded to respond.

Author's Note: Leekah asks the important questions