Link notched another arrow and hopped off the little ledge, focusing his every nerve and sense into this exciting new skill. But by the time he drew the string to its maximum weight, he was already grounded, the impact startling him into releasing– badly–and thwacking the inside of his arm something fierce. Link scowled softly and rubbed his smarted arm with his now-free hand. Even through several layers of Rito down, it stung horribly. The arrow had shattered against a rock an embarrassing meterage from the closest target in the range. He glared at the splintered remains and squeezed the shaft close to snapping, before huffing and shaking it off, preaching to himself an unintelligible sermon full of words like 'discipline,' 'fortitude,' courage,' etc. It had long since lost all grammar and syntax. This hang-up was starting to really get to him.

Recently, in freefall, Link had discovered a hyper-awareness of the battlefield, almost frozen in time around him, in which he could find the perfect window to strike. It was exhilarating, and he'd acquired a pretty good handle on it in melee combat, but utilizing it in archery was proving difficult. Link was not afraid of difficult; most of the time, he relished it. But when he kept making the same mistake over and over again, namely not giving himself enough height out of– what? Fear? He couldn't afford fear…Needless to say, frustration was slowly conquering him. The princess had been studying Vah Medoh for hours, alone with champion-hopeful Revali. He'd thought he'd have ample time to master the skill with bow and arrow, but the last hour had been anything but productive. Perhaps he should stop for a while.

Link made his way to the flight range's pavilion, when a voice called out from atop its roof:

"Ohh, you're not giving up already? I was just settling in for the show!"

Like an owl, Revali had soundlessly landed only meters above Link an unknown time past to watch his failures in high definition. But like a parrot, he now heckled and hazed relentlessly. The Rito landed on the deck, blocking Link from the warm fire and his bag of belongings. He towered over him on the tips of his talons, eyes glinting with malevolent glee. Though now close, his volume did not drop:

"You always were atrocious in the archery events, but I do seem to remember you at least hitting the targets as a child!" Revali laughed.

Link kept himself from bristling, and made no answer, squeezing around the Rito to gather his things. Just because Revali had explained at length the story of his mastery over the Gale, did not mean Link had to divulge the discovery of his new ability, though he was annoyed that he'd had an audience for such progressless training. You have no need of bragging and excuses, he told himself, leave such things to the pigeon.

Revali feigned disappointment, "What, no quips, like when we were young? I suppose the rumors are true, then. You really have gone deaf and dumb."

Every syllable meant to cripple and sting, Link observed, shaking his head imperceptibly, hardly crippled– just tired, and uninterested in playing. It was true that when his father and Revali's mother had set them up as rival squires in childhood, Link took to the competition like a duck to water, holding victories over the Rito's head, and pouting upon defeats. Like any young boy would, Link went to incredible, sometimes unreasonable lengths to please his father. But that was ages ago; today Link had a purpose, and dignity, and a duty to represent the royal family in the best possible light. He now honored his father in spirit and truth. He would not spend emotion on a delicate political ally. In short, Link was an adult.

And when he had bundled up his pack and made his way to the range's exit, the other 'adult' present stamped his taloned feet in Link's way once again, this time with a tone that said 'no escape.'

"Aren't you going to prove me wrong." The question did not rise in pitch as questions normally do, but remained low and menacing. The pigeon was not used to being ignored. Still a child, just without the innocence.

Link kept his gaze low, took a great slow breath, and simply asked "Is Her Highness ready to depart?"

Revali tipped his beak. "Hmph, so just deaf, then." He sauntered back through the pavilion, bumping Link nearly off his feet in an affected manner, and collapsing on one of the woven bark chairs around the cozy fire. He knew he no longer had to physically keep Link there, if the knight wanted information that would save him a useless, long walk back to town. Link did not have the stamina for this– at the end of the day, a walk is just a walk– but he knew Revali couldn't keep quiet for long, so he halfway turned his body and eyed the Rito straight on, looking every bit the professional and patient knight he did not feel.

Affirming Link's assumption, Revali started very soon once he had a willing audience, although he tarried in answering Link's question. "I wanted to test a few more rumors that reached us from Castle Town," he said in the deceptively friendly lilt of an old acquaintance. "Like your father finally being 'honorably discharged' after one too many outbursts and hallucinations on the field? I can still remember that evening in the coliseum… Old Rhoam must've had a headache cleaning that one up!"

Link's gaze was now anything but professional; it was poisonous. His breath quickened, and he reminded himself that a Rito's words in Tabantha could not hurt a man in Central Hyrule. A man who'd earned his retirement ten times over. A man who saw unspeakable things in the service of this land. A man who raised his son alone in spite of it all!

Discipline, discipline, discipline, the sermon in Link's mind degraded evermore.

"I'll take that as confirmation." Revali said, pleased at visibly upsetting him, but still anxious to break his composure. "I suppose you should count it a blessing, then, that your mother is dead. Now that your father is shut up in house, it's lucky she doesn't bear the brunt of his episodes." Link couldn't help his wide eyes at how far Revali would go. Perhaps aware of this, and chagrined in some deep corner of his heart, Revali suddenly pivoted, nearly giving Link whiplash.

"Enough of reminiscing! Zelda is still aboard Medoh. Her perusal quickly bored me, so I made up some excuse to leave and sent Asphel up to her instead."

"You… left your princess on a mechanical Beast a mile in the sky?" Link spoke through gritted teeth. He felt vindicated speaking on this, it being actually relevant. Revali's negligence over Zelda's care while Link remained flight- and powerless to do anything about it, filled his enraged mind with a new wave of anxiety.

But of course, instead of putting him to shame, Revali seemed to gain a second wind at finally getting a response, grinning and kicking his feet up to toast on the edge of the fire pit.

"Well, the concept of her being my princess is one of contention among my people, especially now… And you didn't hear her up there, my dear old friend. Happy as a lark among all the ancient machinery, chattering away in jargon I could neither understand nor engage with. She could've put me to sleep with how long she attempted to explain systems of which she is functionally more ignorant than I am! I fly Medoh like I fly in general: with pure instinct and talent. The technical knowledge of my Beast is useless to me, and a waste of my precious time in this troubling age."

What a relatable sentiment, thought Link. Fortitude and discipline all but spent, he wordlessly turned to trudge back to the village, cold be damned. Personal barbs were one thing, blatant disregard for his charge and future queen was quite another. But Revali was not done, and trusted his voice to carry to the retreating figure:

"It's no wonder the princess cannot access her inherited powers, what when she is so very slow in fields she supposedly excels in."

Link stopped short, making a full rotation and tilting his head. "Excuse me?" he asked, deadly.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I forgot your poor hearing," Revali rose and walked in clipped steps around the fire. "I'll say this as clearly and simply as possible for you," he stooped his neck like a vulture's, and took up all of Link's vision that he could. "Your princess– for why in my right mind would I put myself under her rule– yes, your princess, is a complete and utter dis-ah-point-ment."

Link lunged at Revali, knocking him to the wood floor just shy of the fire pit and getting in one hearty right hook to the beak before the Rito flapped panicked wings and sent Link flying off of him. As Link slammed into the opposite wall, Revali snapped back upright with an "EUGH!" He grabbed his beak, snapped it back into its socket, and marched to the knight, still pinned and struggling against the powerful gust.

"You impudent little man!" Revali cried, and grabbed Link by the throat hard, throwing him in the direction of the deck–the deck which hung over a hundred meter drop. Link rolled a hair from the edge, but scrambled up in no time with a war cry and a haymaker to Revali's neck, who let out a winded cough, but dodged Link's upcoming knee and grabbed him by the back of his tunic, attempting to hurl him into the roaring fire. Link tucked just in time, Revali's momentum too much to do anything but trip into the fire himself. He escaped almost immediately, face untouched, but his entire right side and shoulder engulfed in flames. Revali yelped and tried to snuff the fires out, but Link didn't hesitate for a moment, fisting the burning feathers of the Rito's chest and pulling him down to his knees. As he reared his free fist for a mighty blow, a feminine voice shattered his blind rage:

"Swordsman!"

Link froze, including his incriminating raised fist, mouth agape at the princess's silhouette in the threshold. Revali took the opportunity to shove Link to the ground with a curse. Zelda's accompanying Rito– probably the aforementioned Asphel– rushed in to help him pat down his singed feathers and clothes. Zelda stayed dark and still and furious in the doorway. Link stood at attention.

"What has happened here?" She addressed him with terrifying calm.

Link was speechless, but for once unintentionally. He floundered with his words as, for the first time, his face betrayed excessive emotion to his princess. Deep shame and lingering fury. But as the princess crept into the fire-lit room, something in her eyes snagged his attention, keeping him from answering at all.

It was that same malevolent, manic glee—just better hidden.

He'd failed her, and in doing so, fell right into her hand. But he could hardly blame her, resent her, or even fear her wrath. The princess would always have her preferences, but he was meant to be above that! To be a steady foundation for her no matter what, and instead he'd stooped to the pigeon's level.

"Princess!" Now flameless, Revali dialed up the drama to eleven. He brandished his ruined tunic in Zelda's face as he stormed out. His voice became muffled as he struck up his Gale, but every word rang. "Control your dog or you will see neither me nor my Beast at the campaign against the Calamity! Good! Day!"

Asphel switched her panicked gaze from the empty doorway to the Hylians, before taking flight from right inside the room with a squeeky "Pardon me!"

The wind whistled, and Link dropped to his knees at Zelda's feet, shell-shocked and in the throes of remorse. He miserably tried to muster up any strategies to earn her trust, to appeal to her. Her first words to him alone chilled him to the bone, and put all plans to rest. He would keep his dignity, he would neither snivel, nor pass blame. For now, he was still a knight of Hyrule.

"What have you done?"

"Forgive me," Link's simple, yet hoarse plea barely reached the princess, who now began to pace slowly around the fire.

"You have… sabotaged our chances of securing the Rito Champion!" A bit of her maniacal happiness emerged, as she carefully spun the tale that would rid her of him once and for all. And who would believe my true motive, thought Link, when my condemnation covers Vah Medoh's only pilot? He did not answer.

Link's lack of fight almost disappointed Zelda. She expected him to at least try to explain himself. An afterthought occurred to her, and her curiosity piqued: "Are you hurt?"

As if she'd cast a spell, pain from all the blows of the scuffle came down on him at once. A bruised windpipe, hip, the entirety of his bent back. His eye remained on the wood grains below them. He shook his head.

"Ha!" Zelda exclaimed. "Liar."

Again, no answer.

Perhaps he was unaware of what she planned, of what had truly happened. "You realize that I am bound to tell my father about this?" she asked, needing some sort of acknowledgement or awareness.

He nodded. So he did understand. He was quite grieved, but–

"Well…you don't seem very concerned."

Link spoke honestly, "Nothing could exceed the shame I feel now."

"Is that a challenge?"

A surprise to the both of them, Link barked out a laugh.

"It wasn't a joke, swordsman," Zelda remarked in a low warning tone, though his behavior was starting to genuinely alarm her.

"I know," Link answered, still quite hoarse, "that's why it was funny." He laughed a bit harder. He was obviously hysterical. The events of the day compiled before him in the most pathetic comedy he'd ever seen. His career was over, his sense-of-self in shambles, his father's name smeared in the dirt, and the scheming princess thought she could do worse? Maybe she could! Hylia only knew! But then Link's breath hitched in a way that sounded like the start of a sob, and he fell silent immediately.

A needle's stab of pity found the princess's heart. This caricature of Link before her called to mind his true character. She could not delude herself; he was a good man, and there must've been reason in this situation. She simply hadn't cared to discover it before, but now she found herself wanting to know what had pushed her secret enemy over the edge. "...What did he say?" she asked.

No answer.

"Because it does matter, I know he can be–" She cut herself off. Was she now giving the knight consolation? Finding excuses on his behalf? Letting this golden opportunity pass her by? She heaved a world-weary sigh, and frowned at the kneeling man. Yes, she was.

"I won't tell my father, but you have to apologize to Revali."

Link finally lifted begging, panicked eyes to his charge. "The only apology I owe today is to you."

Idiot! I just admitted defeat and all you can think about is saving face in front of the bird? "First thing tomorrow, then!" Zelda ordered.

But her bossiness felt different to Link… somehow. There was something like comradery entwined in it. He smiled softly at the ground, wondering at the small shift with the great consequences. Then he said, with ample humility and gratitude, "Yes, Your Grace."

Zelda felt a wave of awkwardness, so she flitted her gaze elsewhere and began to pace and scheme again, this time with just a bit less malice.

"It must've been bad…" she thought out loud, then looked back at Link, head still serenely bowed. She rolled her eyes. "At ease. And stop looking so tortured."

Link compiled and Zelda stepped up to him and continued: "I have an idea to humble him but for it to work you must not only be silent, but completely and utterly repentant. Do you understand?"

Link locked his jaw to keep his lips from curling, but he had another thought unrelated to personal rivalries:

"Princess, I don't want any retaliation to further endanger our Rito alliance."

Zelda pursed her lips in a confident smirk. "Oh, on the contrary, this will secure our alliance, swordsman. I promise. But I need you, beside me, playing a part–which I'm sure you're used to."

She threw away that last line, but Link's eyebrows pulled together at it. He stowed it away for later consideration and thought for a moment on the princess's offer. The most reliable trait Link had observed in Zelda in their travels so far was her cleverness. If anyone could salvage the alliance, she could.

"I will do whatever you ask of me," Link vowed, keeping their eyes locked.

Not for the first time, Zelda felt a chill of intimidation at Link's unerring–undeserved–loyalty. But this time, paradoxically, she was also emboldened.

Link kneeled for the second time in as many days, on the floor of Revali's Landing in Rito Village, under a blue noon sky. Zelda stood slightly in front of him, with her head bowed. And Revali, across from them, soaked it all in.

"I am deeply regretful of my behavior yesterday, Sir Revali." Link began, composed, "Please do not hold it against my princess and our great kingdom, and accept my humblest apologies."

"He cannot help it, insolent knight," Zelda spat at the ground between them, "You are an ambassador of the crown, however ashamed I am to say so at this moment."

"Indeed, Sir Link," Revali drawled, happy to savor this moment like thick honey. "Your wise princess is right. One cannot but hesitate to fight under the same wing as one who incites fights from within."

"Well said, my lord." Link acquiesced. Revali gave him a slow, pompous nod.

"But I really must acknowledge my part in this unfortunate affair." Zelda interjected upon Revali's fantasy, and his eyes shifted to her in the beginnings of confusion. "I should not expect you to suffer my inadequacies with the same composure as the knight assigned to my side."

"What?"

"I am very–" Zelda stopped short, hand on her chest in a placating gesture. "…what?"

Revali sputtered, his inherent yet unacknowledged guilt causing his imagination to fly in circles around him. "Did he tell–" he started, then suddenly squawked, "What did he say about me?!"

Zelda feigned feminine nerves, shaking her head. "I-I don't understand, my lord. What did who say about you?

Revali's beak hung agape. He was in the trap, yes, but perhaps he could avoid the spring–

"You mean Link, don't you?" Zelda mustered a furious tear for each eye, voice rising in pitch and pleading. "I assure you, my lord, he said nothing to me, but did he slander you on top of physically assaulting you?"

"Wha–!" Revali gasped proudly, "It wasn't assault! It was a fight, it was a mutual fight!"

"Well that's very generous of you to admit, but you must accept my deepest regrets–" Zelda then kneeled herself, the undue image enough to push the puffed-up Rito into full-blown panic.

"No, no, stand up princess, please don't apologize, please!" he all but whined.

Revali picked Zelda back up by her elbows, stayed down himself, and prepared to admit defeat. He was very tense; this was not a feeling he was used to. "It is not generous of me," he began with the effort of pulling one's own teeth, "Because I started the fight."

Zelda unveiled her biggest, most manipulative doe eyes yet, "But, you said…"

"I said disrespectful words against you, and Link reacted in your defense."

"Oh…" Zelda said, in an indefinable tone. She measured a well calculated beat, then: "I am less offended than you may think. I have grown…accustomed to the criticism of others, and their assumptions of me."

Revali huffed out a breath, and in a very small voice said, "I have, too. I am sorry, princess."

Out of the corner of her eye, Zelda saw Link watching the interaction with astonishment. Revali's admission seemed almost involuntary, and showed more vulnerability than Link had ever heard from him before. But he was breaking character in his surprise, and Zelda made a sharp chin gesture at him, as if to say 'don't ruin this now!' Link jerked his head down once more.

"Can you ever forgive me?" Revali raised his head just in time to miss the interaction.

"Of course," Zelda demurred, but Link could taste the bitter lie. She held each comment made about her close to her chest. She remembered every single one. But she would not let that hamper diplomacy. She continued:

"And perhaps we can use this shared hardship, and the strength it has given us, to protect our lands together. What say you, my lord?"

"Yes. Yes, I accept." Now so eager to earn back credibility with the princess, Revali gained the mantle of Champion almost as an afterthought. A fist of fear seized his already fluttering heart, but it was too late.

"Wonderful." Zelda smiled benevolently, and extended a hand to help him up. He slowly accepted it, his opinion of her changing before Link and Zelda's very eyes.

"One more moment of your time," Zelda motioned to Link and he stood to retrieve a folded piece of burlap from one of his pockets. He unfolded it to reveal the signature blue garment of Champions. Revali's was a scarf. "A token of our unity," Zelda explained.

"Crafted by the princess's own hand," Link said, with a touch of pride. Revali took the gift from Link, refusing to look at him. Something about the princess made the blow to his ego less painful, but for the fact that Link was there to see it. Revali would acknowledge him as little as possible until he could regain some dignity, but he couldn't help but bend to the princess, and not even feel all that defeated about it.

"Thank you," the words sounded a bit awkward from the Rito's beak.

"And you, sir," answered Zelda.

Link had not made eye contact with Revali this entire interaction, in obedience to Zelda, but he did now. He was impressed. He didn't think Revali capable of accountability, even though in this case he may have been tricked into it. "Welcome," said Link, and he gave him what he hoped was a look just friendly enough not to give offense.

Revali scoffed. "It should cover the burns nicely," he shook the scarf in Link's face half-heartedly, then bowed to Zelda, "Good day, wise princess."

"Good day, Sir Revali." And so, he initiated his Gale and took off into the sky. The pair watched him go, then Zelda made her way down Rito Village's wending wooden stairs. Link gathered their bags from a spot on the railing. They'd already said the necessary farewells to the chief and his wife, and they were ready to continue their exhausting tour. Link jogged to catch up and fell into step beside her, still a respectful distance away, because he wanted her to know something.

"That was brilliant," he told her.

She didn't answer. All the poise and concentration that the performance of a conversation had taken was gone and drained, and praise had never sat right with her anyway. It so rarely came from those whose praise she actually wanted.

Link was not deterred, the last person in Hyrule to judge silence. But what had just happened made him excited, made him want to break his usual habits with her.

"You didn't just humble him, Your Highness, you included him. I've known him since I was a child, and I have never seen him like that–almost grateful. It was… masterfully and kindly done.

Link had never said so many words to her at once. It made her excessively nervous, and intimidated her into not answering yet again.

"You are a skilled diplomat, is all," Link said gently, sensing her unease.

Zelda suddenly snapped "Don't–!" then seemed to catch herself, calming. "Please do not patronize me, swordsman. I do not need consolidation in my fitness to rule; I need results."

"You have them, Your Highness. I only meant to encourage. I'm sorry to have offended you." He began to fall behind once more to an appropriate, knightly distance. Lesson learned. But Zelda stopped on a flat ledge and turned to face him, looking upset with herself. "I wanted to thank you!" Link tilted his head, and screwed his brows, a bit lost.

"For trusting me today, and for defending me yesterday. Thank you."

Link lowered his gaze. "No thanks needed. It was only right." His voice was back to normal: telegraphed and dry. He bowed and…and that was it. Zelda kept on down the stairs and cursed herself for discouraging him just when she might have learned more of who he really was. He'd encouraged her, she just then let herself realize. Of course he had, because, despite it all, he was good and true. And maybe I can stop treating that like such a bad thing. It was a long ride to Zora's Domain. Zelda would have plenty of time to try again.