A/N: I do not, in general, write kid stories. My adult ratings are for a reason. My stories feature: violence (often graphic), Sexuality (almost always graphic), and worse. The villains in my stories are typically very villainous. The heroes are not always heroic- even if most of the time they are. Readers should expect a blanket trigger warning on everything I write. Themes of dubious- or non-consenting sex, domination, violence, gore, and character death- including major characters- exist in many of them. I do not condone such activities in real life, but unfortunately they are real in our world, and I don't feel that I could write fiction fairly without including them.

Finally, if you like this story or any of my other stories, please consider supporting me on SUB SCRIBE STAR dot ADULT slash KAJAWILDER. I can only continue my current (or faster) pace of updates if I can pay my bills. I'm not there yet, but I'm definitely getting you think about how much enjoyment you get out of a movie- about two hours worth of fun- for $10-20- you are getting far greater value by supporting a writer like myself. If even one in twenty people that read this supported me on Pa Tree On at any but the lowest level, I would be able to easily continue focusing on writing more... and you could read more. I'm going to keep writing anyway. But the pace would be and will be a lot faster if you can spare a few dollars monthly. My lowest tier isn't even a small drink at a theater, any more. Is it worth it? Is it worth it to you? If so, then please support me.
Of course, you can ALSO find more of the same stories there. Most everything here (including FwB, PoW, and TaL) are posted here at least a week after being posted on Sub Star. Also, DON'T go to Pa Tree On if you can help it any more. They are HEAVILYcensoring my content there, including this story, which is why I'm trying to move to SubStar. Currently it's up to date and 99% of what was on the first is now on SubStar, so you aren't missing anything.

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That's enough out of me. Enjoy!

EDIT: I FUCKED UP! Sorry! This is the chapter that SHOULD have posted on Jan 11th. So read this BEFORE 18- go back if you have to- it's kind of important to the plot. :)
The screw up was because, frankly, the whole 'chapter 0' thing always causes issues. I wish they would just let us make a Ch 0. I really do. Anyway... here you go. Sorry again.


Ch. 17
(Un)Pleasant Delays

Zelda risked wading through the rain-spattered water it rested in to get a better look, or even to use its interior to have a relatively safe place to sleep for the rest of the night. Unfortunately, that was not to be. A ring of spikes, driven up from the earth itself it seemed for they were made of hard stone, ringed the entire structure.

"I'm being tested," Zelda grumbled to herself, "Hylia herself is testing my patience... and I fear I'm going to come up lacking."

But there was nothing she could do. The spikes were too dense and sharp, and tall too, for climbing over. Bombs did nothing to them, for she had tried. Fire was unfeasible in the rain, and the structure rose from the bottom of a waist-deep pool, so she would have to hold a torch if that were even attempted.

No... but, as Zelda scowled toward the Shrine's blocked entrance, there was another way. A flash of lightning backlit the northern side of the Dueling Peaks, casting a silhouette across the sky. There was a cliff not so very far off, and quite high. If she could climb or ascend to it, it would not be hard to return to the shrine from above. Getting out might be hard, but Zelda knew, if nothing else, she could simply take a day's travel down the safe (for now) passage through the gorge from the Dueling Peaks Tower.

With a frown, Zelda finally forced herself to turn away to the tempting, evil shrine, and spotted her true goal. Not five hundred yards off now, she could just see through the driving weather the faintest glimmer of yellow light. Exhausted, beaten, broken emotionally from the toll of the last few days, Zelda still forced herself into a slow, loping jog.
She had to get out of the rain. The pain her body from numerous wounds was worth it.

Just... a bit of shelter.

After all, no one she could think of ever told 'legends of rain at inconvenient times'. What a ridiculous notion that would be.

Zelda was dimly aware of a few outbuildings, an actual stable, a barn, an outhouse, and a few circled wagons along with piles and stacks of supplies, but she made only for the main structure. As Brigo had said, it was a colossal yurt, semi-permanent, made of both wood and cloth. Its top was a many-story tall horse-head of varied colors, crested with a painted mane. Strange, awkward, primitive, but still beautiful in its own way, Zelda could take no time to appreciate its aesthetics just then.
Instead, as she stepped from the wind and rain into a quiet, nearly empty common room, she could only appreciate the cessation of wind, the halt of rain, and the burgeoning, glowing warmth of a low-banked fire.

To her right, the princess spotted several small tables, with two or four chairs of wood at each. A few were occupied, one by a late-night drinker, a woman with green and white clothing and bobbed brown hair who looked quite inebriated but more tired than anything, and an old man who was passed out over his table, one half-full tankard still clutched in a withered hand. The center of the space was the source of the warmth. An open firepit, ringed in stone, had that carefully tended blaze still in it, while a chimney of steel or iron carried the smoke up, probably through the horse's neck, and out into the sky. A few candles and lanterns lit the space as well, so though it was probably dim by daylight, it seemed quite bright to Zelda's now night-accustomed eyes. A few curtains on rods or spikes indicated passages or hallways in the larger tent, of which this huge room was only half, while a long bar sat to her left against the outer wall, with a long curtain separating it from the counter outside, much like the one she had just passed through.
Behind it sat an older woman, probably in her sixties Zelda thought, who might once have been fairly handsome. Weather and work had put many lines on her face, but her fingers still blurred over the knitting she was doing. "Needing a room for the rest of the night, dear?"

Zelda, suddenly shivering as she felt the difference in temperature set in, nodded. Her teeth clattered too, "Y-y-ye-yes, p-p-please. A w-w-warm one."

"Terrible night to be out," the woman agreed with a kind smile, "Ten rupees will do it, dear. I'll have a bath warmed up in half an hour for another three...?"

Zelda's eyes widened. "Th-t-that s-sounds... brilliant."

She put a red gem down on the counter after pulling it free, "K-Keep the d-difference. I'm just ha-happy to be w-warm and d-d-dry."

Her statement was punctuated by a sneeze, and as she straightened back up, having nearly doubled over with the force of it, she found her sinuses clogged. "Oh, do..."

The woman winced knowingly, "I'll bring up the dinner soup first, then, and maybe some herbs if I can find them... nothing like a cold to make a storm worse. Here, you'll be in room six. That's the last one on the right hall. Mind you don't use the left, that's for the single men... they might take ideas, y'see, if you do go down there."

Even as she held back a sniffle, Zelda blinked. "Excuse me? What do you mean?"

The matronly woman shook her head and gave another soft smile, "Mind, I don't mind if you do, looking as you do, but... well, the... you ever stayed at one of the local stables, missy?"

Zelda shook her head, now thoroughly confused. "I'm not from around here, and I haven't yet had the opportunity," she said, the half-lie coming to her lips more easily now.

"Well, that explains it. See... there's a sort of, well... I s'pose I'm not the best to explain this, but as most others are asleep and that one is the local leader..."

Zelda followed her eyes to the green-clad woman at the farthest table, who was watching Zelda and the matron's conversation with at least some interest, though she was far enough the princess thought they weren't being listened in on. "Of what, though?"

"Well... you know young folk. Folk like yourself, unattended, on the road... no missus or man to see if you stray a bit...? People like to... relieve the stress of these dangerous times we live in. Have a bit of fun with the locals when they pass through, that sort of thing. No strings attached... except maybe a few Rupees changing hands."

Again, Zelda blinked, confused, for several seconds as she looked back and forth between the woman and the younger one at the table.

Slowly, comprehension dawned, and her eyes widened. "Oh. Oh."

She would have said more, but a sneeze overtook her again.

"I'll get that soup and your bath right quick. Just take this little token here," the woman slid across a wooden placard just a few inches across along the counter, "so's if anyone asks you can say that's your room. There's no locks on the doors, unfortunately, but most folks wouldn't dare cause trouble at a Stable. You'd have a hard time getting anywhere ever again if you did that."

"Th- Thank you," Zelda replied, taking up the token and examining it.
There was a simple carving of a horse on one side, and the symbols she now recognized as writing on the other. Dueling Peaks, it read. On the same side as the horse, another symbol: three horizontal lines laid over three vertical. Six.

With a nod, Zelda turned away, and started heading for what she guessed was the right curtain. A cough caught her attention, and Zelda looked back to see the matron pointing at the one to her right, about a dozen feet off. Blushing slightly, she corrected her course.

The room was not luxurious by any means, and significantly colder than the common room, but the bed looked comfortable, and it was furnished with thick down comforters and mattress, and an even softer pillow. Most of the furnishings, simple though they were- a washbasin, currently empty, a chair, and a basic table for a desk were the only other accouterments- were well-crafted, but handmade. Clearly, they were made for function more than appearance, but each piece still had a little bit of paint here, or some carvings there, to indicate some sort of nod to culture.

Zelda was digging through her satchel for something dry to wear- there wasn't much, even her dress was soaked now- when the older woman gave a knock to the door-frame outside. "Miss? I've got that soup, and an extra helping on us. You sound like you'll need it. I've got some herbs, too, for your nose."

"Oh, thank you. Please, c-come in," she murmured, still chattering and shivering a little.

The curtain pushed aside, and within a few seconds, the slightly pudgy woman had dropped off a clay tureen and a bowl with a spoon in it, a small wooden cup of water, and a sachet of what the princess identified as the same sort of medicinal, thistle-like herbs she had found throughout her journey thus far, but dried and processed into a tea sachet.

Her search for clothing was quickly abandoned for the moment. The soup was simple fare, and a tad too greasy, but the chunks of vegetables and mutton that floated in it were heaven. Even better was the warmth that seemed to emanate from her stomach as she ate, heating her from the inside out.

More famished than she had realized, the entire tureen, the water, and the herbs, though less effective with cold water, were all gone by the time the older woman knocked again. "Here's a few buckets, the water's still steaming. Would you like my help filling...?"
"Oh, yes, please," Zelda sighed again, this time holding the curtain over for her. Between them, it took four buckets and a second trip with one each for the pair to fully fill the basin, but when Zelda was finally left alone, she hesitated only a moment before stripping her cold, wet clothes off her pale, clammy skin.

She knew, deep down, that anyone could just walk into her room if they snuck by the matron. Anyone could attack her while she was here, defenseless.

She didn't care.

A warm bath was a true luxury, one Zelda had feared she would never experience again. Even if the surroundings and decor were probably not up to her royal standards, she thought it was the best experience of her short life (perhaps second behind that mind-numbing orgasm in the Korok's cave) since recovering.

After soaking for perhaps half an hour, as the water slowly cooled, Zelda picked up the rag and soap offered, and started to scrub. Hard, too hard perhaps, she worked to free herself of trail-sweat, dust, rain, and blood.
Even if she knew the blood would never leave her hands...
Some of it she deserved to keep there. She had failed that unknown woman, by being too late.

She had failed all of Hyrule.

But not all the blood was on her hands. No... indeed, the majority lay on the Calamity's. And Zelda refused to carry it for the monstrosity that lived in her old home.

Eventually, the water was as brown and red as it would get, and the wound on her left breast had opened up a bit to bleed onto the floor as she stepped out of the tub, but she quickly threw one of her hand-made bandages over it and tied it off around her chest.

She had no other clothes, and just then Zelda was too tired to care.

She fell asleep snuggled deeply into the blankets, and did not wake for several hours.

When she did eventually wake up, Zelda heard herself groaning in discomfort from the first movement. Everything about her hurt, it seemed. Not as badly, perhaps, as two point-blank explosions from the Sheikah Slate's Remote Bombs, or being clubbed several times by Bokoblins, but just as broadly. The princess rolled over in the surprisingly soft, but somewhat lumpy bed she had rented for the night, and groaned louder with the discomfort that caused.

Every muscle ached, her mouth was dry and felt full of cotton, her head pounded, but her sinuses were clear. Still, she forced herself upright, and pushed the thick woolen blankets aside. They felt disgusting, covered with sweat, though she had just bathed the night before.

The moment the cool morning air inside the yurt hit her bare skin, Zelda began to shiver. She let out a small whimper, and staggered to her feet. She had to relieve herself, if nothing else, before crawling back into the bed.

Before she reached the small charcoal-lined cupboard with its lid that she would sit upon, which she had infered from the matron held a chamber-pot that would be drained when she left, Zelda was shivering uncontrollably. By the time she finished her business, her teeth were chattering too, so badly that she didn't dare even leave the room. Instead, she looked forlornly at the last dregs of greasy broth left in the bowl from last night, wishing she had some more.

Of course, then the thought of eating made her stomach turn violently. The sudden nausea made it much easier to ignore the hunger growing in her belly, and the thought of eating another apple at that moment made her want to vomit even more.

With nothing else to do, Zelda climbed back into the bed, sweaty sheets or no. She didn't remember falling asleep, only tossing and turning because no matter how she moved or adjusted herself, it was either too cold, or too hot, or too lumpy, or just too... something.

The horses outside, out the back tent wall, half-wood and half-canvas or leather, might have been a comforting sound, but just then it was keeping her awake. The clucking of Cuccos, the bark of a some herd-dog, the tramping of boots as people went about their chores...

It all became the whinny of parade horses, hundreds of men and animals, beautifully decorated for the military parade that celebrated her... what was it, sixteenth birthday?

She was already ordained, they said, to save them from the Calamity thanks to the power of the Goddess Hylia in her veins. Her grandmother had it, and her mother too, it was said, though she tied before Zelda knew her. The princess herself had a tiny little scar, barely noticeable, from that same attack that had taken her, on her right hand. Zelda knew this, both waking and dreaming, and it seemed important somehow, but she could not remember why.

The men tramped past, their horses moving faster and faster. Soon, the gallantry and pageantry began to change. More haste, then here, a tear. There, a spot of mud. Then blood.

Before she could protest that it was wrong, the moon was huge, crimson red in the sky, a reflected mirror on wispy clouds seeming to mirror great, porcine eyes, and the soldiers still galloped by. Until, that is, they didn't. All at once, the men moving past her on horses stopped, and suddenly she was surrounded. Trapped, circled on all sides by those who should have protected her. Lances and spears and swords were all leveled in her direction, smoothly, awkwardly. Horses that had once been healthy, fit, were now gaunt, nightmarish things with blazing orange or blue eyes like Bokoblins, their gums and lips shrunken to reveal horribly cracked, broken, bloody teeth. Zelda tried to run, to escape, but everywhere she turned there were more soldiers.

Soldiers that lifted one visor or helmet-mask here, shifted their tabard aside there, or even moved a shield to reveal gaping wounds. Rent armor, protruding bone, lacerations that severed entire limbs... and the soldiers still moved. Weapons at the ready, inching ever closer and tighter around her, like a horrid, unliving corpse-army out of the worst tales she might have ever heard as a child or read in some book of tales.

Gaunt, skeletal even, damaged severely, they were still faces Zelda felt she knew. The baker down the main street, perhaps, or the head cook, or a maid who cleaned her rooms at the castle. People Zelda did not know, did not remember, faces she had no name for, but that still felt familiar. The scar on her brow and eye prickled and burned, and blood felt as if it was pouring down her face.

Zelda lifted a hand tentatively to her own face, dreading what she would feel.

An empty, hollow socket. An entire bony finger, inserted completely where her eye and optic nerve should have been. It withdrew, covered in dust and dried blood and scar tissue burned to ash by brilliant, blue-white hellfire.

Horrified, Zelda lifted her hands, once graceful and unmarred, to find them gray, withered, like the men who surrounded her. Only one spot still looked alive... her left breast, near the top, as one gash of living, vibrant flesh began to gout and poor with deep red blood. Her front was drenched, and she burned with the heat of it, and Zelda screamed, and screamed.

Then she panted, gasping weakly, both hands pawing at her chest uselessly as she looked down. She did not care to notice, or at least attend, the bowl of cool water or the herbs she had scattered about her bed and the chamber, and barely registered the older woman who had jumped back as she bolted to a sitting position, clattering to land on her back with a stool between her bent knees.

Her breathing was ragged and rough, her voice hoarse as she croaked, "Alive...? A... A dream?"

Grumbling but still with an audible tone of good-nature, the same woman from the night before rolled half to her side and picked herself back up, dusted off her rump, and set the stool she had been sitting on right before putting hands on her hips in a most motherly fashion. "I'd reckon so. I didn't spend near a full day, shirking my other duties 'round the stable, keepin' you alive, for nothing, missy."

Slowly, the words set in through her dream- and fever-addled brain; "What? A... A day?"

"Hmph. Just so. Lay yourself back down, I wasn't done cleaning that wound. No wonder your fever was so bad- I figured I'd just let you sleep off the cold and pay later, but as you never even came out for lunch or dinner, I thought I'd check on you. And what do I find? Blood all over my sheets from an untreated, uncleaned wound, and a payin' customer sicker than when she got her medicine! Hmph! As if I'd let some poor traveler die of a silly thing like that. My grandmam's old tricks did the trick, alright. Lookit yourself."

Slowly, Zelda lifted her hands away from the spot that had been welling blood, terrified still she would see it, though her hands were thankfully not quite skeletal. Thin, maybe, but not gaunt.

The wound over her left breast the Lizalfos had given her was still there, and a bit jagged, but it had healed much in the... however long it had been she was unconscious. It was scabbed over at least, and while it was red and puffy around the edges, the crinkling skin in a much larger area around it made Zelda frown. "How... how bad was it? I can see it was very swollen."

At her quiet question, the matron sighed and lowered herself slowly to the stool. "Down, I said, I got more work to do. It was bad enough. I've seen worse, mind, but not too many. Grandmam was a physician back'n Castle Town, back when that wasn't quite such a death trap, and she passed down a lot of things to Ma and me. Now I've passed most of it on to my daughters, best I could. Reckon some's lost, always seems that way, but this's still one of the better Stables you could've fallen ill at. That's sure as horses gallop."

Zelda grinned softly at the unfamiliar idiom, glad that it at least made sense. "Well, thank you, then. I'm most grateful. How much do I owe...?"

"For the night? Just another ten-fifteen rupees, you'll want another bath I reckon, once the fever really breaks. I got you more of that good medicinal tea steeping now, figured you'd wake soon as much as you were tossing and turning. If I'd known you had an infection in that wound I'd have skipped the stew, though. Fatty meals can make that worse, you know."

Zelda nodded as she finally lay back in the bed. Without another word, the old matron resumed her work. Idly, she wondered if it would have been strange to be fussed over by someone else before. It certainly felt that way now, having a relative stranger paw all over her chest with a warm cloth, then wipe it again with a cooler one, rinsing both with separate bowls. At least she seemed professional, and didn't stare too much at her.

When the wound was clean, the matron finished by sprinkling a small handful of several kinds of pungent herbs over her skin in that area, then rubbed them in with a gentle finger and a few dabs of some kind of thin, scented oil. "That'll help with the itching, mostly," she said as she finished with an herb-wrapped bandage. "And of course for the bleeding and to promote the healing even further. I must say, you've come on pretty well for being in as bad a shape as you were. I'd still recommend staying another day after this one, though. You'll need time to build up your strength."

"Another day? That'd be... three, right?"

It was so hard to think, to remember. Why couldn't she remember? The nightmare that had woken her, of course, was there in her mind in perfect detail. But things this kind woman had told her not ten minutes earlier were slipping away like water in her hands.

"That's right, dear. Total of thirty Rupees- I'm not charging you for the herbs and work, though. It's what I do. Sorry I can't do much 'bout that other scar. Looks a bit set-in to me."

Zelda nodded, and heard herself murmur a quiet, possibly unintelligible thanks as the matron handed her a steaming cup of tea from the bedside table. "Drink up. Tomorrow I reckon you'll be starving, but otherwise more or less okay. Maybe tire a bit easier. Gotta keep the fluid up though, you've been sweating something awful in your fever. Got some feverfew in there, of course, and yarrow. It'll help."

Zelda nodded, the familiar flavors biting a bit at her tongue, but she had to admit that within a few minutes of finishing the small mug and handing it back, she felt a little better. In the meantime, the old matron had cleaned up her scattered supplies and gathered it all in her apron. "Well, I'll catch you when you come out next, dear. You really should eat as soon as you can stomach it, but tomorrow at latest, I'll come check on you again. Alright?"

"Mm..."
Then Zelda was out again. At least this time, if she had nightmares, she did not remember them.


Zelda winced as she finished tying her boots, then stood up and adjusted her belt, too. It was a full notch tighter than when she had arrived at the Stables, near two in the morning now three days ago. Her fever had returned the third day, which had the old woman all-but chasing Zelda, who was of a mind to carry on anyway, back into her room, threatening her to be tied down if she went out in a light drizzle in her condition.

At first, Zelda had protested, but after dodging a switch once and making her way to the tent-flap that lead outside, the first rush of cold air after lifting it had changed her mind. The shivers had, she told herself, nothing to do with it.

Still, it was frustrating beyond belief. Yes, she was a little more tired than normal. That was to be expected after a bout of illness, especially if she'd had an infection besides. But she felt fine, aside from not wanting to be in the cold. One of the residents, Agressa, had patched and darned the largest holes in her clothing as best she could while Zelda was delirious, but it was still enough to convince her to wait another day.

The soreness in her muscles would have made her regret leaving the day before, too, she now had to admit. It was bad enough now, but she was still aching worse the day before. At least now she was almost perfectly healthy, only a bit of a wince and slower movements hampering her.

There was no one in the common room when she arrived, now for the third time, having squared up her debts the day before. Not even the old woman, though a candle lit on her counter suggested she wasn't too far off. The day outside was warm though a light mist still clung to the ground, rapidly burning off in a bright sun. So warm, in fact, that the thick, double-layered tent flap to the outside was pulled high, tied on the door frame to allow a pleasant-smelling breeze to waft in.

As good as it smelled out there, though, Zelda's attention was caught my something peculiar. A rhythmic tapping, and occasionally... grunting. Whimpering? Both?

With a frown, Zelda tilted her head, her long ears twitching as they tried to focus on the source. Down the men's hall...? No... What was it? Where was it? Down the shorter hall that presumably lead to the owner's residence and kitchen? No, it was actually quieter there. It almost sounded like it was coming from the women's hall, but toward the end it was more muffled. Then as she moved to the men's, it seemed louder near the tent, but if she lifted it to look down, it didn't get any clearer.

Puzzled, Zelda spent several minutes tracking the source, eventually wandering outside. All around, a dozen or so people were at work, engaged in industrious things like splitting firewood, loading or unloading two different wagons and a smaller cart, hitching horses to the one being loaded, brushing two others that looked quite tired, and even standing in a short queue to deal with a stall held up by what looked like thin, sturdy poles artfully carved to resemble the legs of a beetle, with a rhinoceros beetle shaped canopy over the whole contraption.

Even the children, of which Zelda could immediately spot three, were hard at work. Two of them, the oldest, were helping to curry the tired horses, while a third was picking weeds from a small garden.

Despite the bustle, though, Zelda knew at once the sound was louder outside. To the left, toward the gorge and the twin rivers, the crowd of workers and residents were making enough noise that it was unlikely the sound she kept hearing was coming from over there. Logically, that meant she should move right.

What the young princess found, as she turned around the large yurt enough to mask most of the almost festival-like noise from the opposite side of the Stable compound, surprised her deeply. Almost as deep, in fact, as the blush that spread up her face.

The same brown-haired woman that had been occupying the common room on the night Zelda had arrived at the Dueling Peaks Stable was bent over a bale of hay, supported by her lower arms. Her tunic was hiked up past her waist, and open far enough that from the side Zelda could see the nipples of her full chest bouncing against the fibers of the bale. Her hair swayed back and forth too, while her umber-dyed leggings were pulled down to her waist.

Necessary, since a man was behind her, his rough, calloused hands seeming almost too large on the woman's slender waist, as his penis speared into her roughly. "Harder," the woman moaned, "Do it harder, Hino. Harder and faster."

While he was definitely spurred on by the words, Zelda thought she detected a hint of insincerity in the woman's voice. The man, Hino she supposed, was earing a blue tunic with white accents over a half-sleeved woolen shirt with leather padding at the shoulders, with much-repaired, worn leather trousers and boots similar to her own, only a bit thicker and older. He was unkempt, a mustache and beard that didn't quite connect both in need of a brush, but neither as bad as his hair, which was nearly as long and disheveled as the woman's.

"You're always so good, Sagessa," the man grunted as he pumped harder. "Always- always the highlight of my week, when I've got enough saved for an hour with you."

Zelda realized she was staring only as the woman looked over her shoulder toward the man, and caught her gaze. Sagessa paused for only a moment, barely noticeable, "Oh, yeah, me too, Hino. It's always the best. You have the best dick. It's like a horse!"

Now, Zelda knew she was lying. The man grinned proudly and moved faster still, but Zelda caught a smirk sent her way along with rolling eyes as Sagessa looked forward once more. Realizing it was too late to hide now, Zelda thought about calling out an apology.

At the very least, leaving them alone, because the tapping was very much explained by the bounce of the haybale against one of the large tent's supporting posts, the moaning by the prostitute, and the grunting by her companion.

But she didn't move. Instead, Zelda found herself rapt, eyeing the two intently. The woman was bored-looking, her expression neutral, though when she occasionally moaned or looked back in her client's direction, she seemed to be enjoying it well enough. Zelda knew very well he wasn't all that large, and was in fact a bit smaller than average, but how she knew she couldn't say.

He most certainly didn't resemble a horse. Even the geldings on the other side of the stable were probably better endowed, and a wild stallion would be as large, at least, as her lower arms full-grown. If it was a big horse, perhaps her whole arm.

Still, she couldn't drag her eyes away. The man was alright looking, she supposed, the woman attractive enough, but it was more the sheer, unabashed act itself that had her attention.

She knew, of course, that people had sex. Knew without needing her memories to know where and how babies were made, and so on. After all, even the Bokoblins had genitals and could have raped her, small though they were in comparison to a human, and the Lizalfos pair she had killed in the gorge were mates. Or at least, they had been mating when she was spotted.

She was reasonably sure, given what the middle-aged woman who ran the common room at night had told her, that this woman, Sagessa, was essentially a woman who kept men 'entertained' in return for money.

And while she knew full well, again without asking, that some might consider the very idea horrendous... what harm was it, really? As long as precautions were taken against disease, unwanted children, well... what was the problem? In fact, wasn't it said that it was the world's oldest profession? Certainly, for someone like a princess, that would be extremely unacceptable. Standards would have been kept, at the very least, so that even her dalliances (if she had any, because Zelda truly could not recall, aside from that one dream she'd had of strong, warm arms beneath the bower of a tree on the Plateau) would have been of at least well-to-do stock, if not outright nobility.

But was she, really, a princess anymore?

Who was to say who she would, if all was said and done, and by some miracle of Hylia herself still alive when the Calamity was defeated, be able to find a noble, much less one she could produce heirs with? No... that was nearly out of the question.
She was the princess of a dead kingdom, after all. While nobility and royalty might run in her veins, Zelda had no illusions about the practicality of even trying to find a successful match in that regard. But, somehow, the simple act of two people in very openly intimate relations- outside, where just anyone could see, though a bit hidden perhaps from the wandering eyes of children- was so simple, so welcome...

It reminded her of better times, maybe. That had to be part of it, the princess was sure, when people were free to indulge in a bit of fun if they wanted to. These two were, at least outwardly, enjoying themselves. Hino certainly was, if his mad grin as he thrust faster still into the woman's loins, told her anything. Even Sagessa seemed to actually be getting into it now, for her head had fallen down and her eyes closed. She was biting her lip too, Zelda thought, though it was hard to see from a distance.

She still stared, lost in her thoughts and a sense of primal need herself, until Hino gave a final grunt and pulled himself free, his short, thankfully only barely thinner than normal erection spurted several small bursts of white outward onto Sagessa's thighs.

That was, thankfully, enough to remind Zelda of where she was, and what she was doing. She spun and walked away around the curve of the yurt once more, just in time to catch a few parting words. "Ah, man... I was almost there, finally. Damn it, Hino. Couldn't have held out a few minutes, or at least given me a hand?"

"Eh... I pay you for pleasure, remember? Not to do the work myself. Besides, you were wet enough, Sagessa. I'll see you next week!"

The woman muttered something else, and as she tucked herself behind a support post, thankfully the man seemed to notice nothing as she strode by Zelda, not quite finished with tying up his trousers, the scent of sex still wafting from him.

Zelda waited a minute to let him go by so no one would notice if she suddenly appeared behind him, and was about to head back toward the busier side of the Stable when Sagessa's voice whispered from directly behind her, "Normally I charge to watch, too- just fifteen Rupees. But for you, this one time, I'll make an exception. Hm... as good as you look, I'd give you a discount on my other services, too."

Zelda felt her face turn deep scarlet once more as she turned, "B- But- but I'm a- a woman!"

Sagessa was shrugging as the princess turned to face her, her expression pleased and, if she were any judge of emotions, a bit eager, too. "So? There's things a woman can do to another that no man can do right, you know. 'Courseways, menfolk have their uses, too, heh. 'Least, men not Hino. Prick- I always hate when he comes callin'."

Zelda frowned, unsure if she was really comfortable with this topic. In the end, she decided that ship had already sailed. "Is... is he that bad? You seemed to almost be... well... at the end..."

Sagessa sighed, then lifted a hand and gestured for Zelda to follow as she headed back toward the bale, "Eh, he's alright, I s'pose. At least he bathes regularly, and keeps his teeth clean. Some of the other girls at this stable aren't so picky, but I like my clients to be... well, at least mostly clean. Not stink of horse, or manure, or sweat, you know? And no black teeth from their pipe-weed, either. That's nasty."

Without really knowing why, Zelda followed the woman, who walked back toward the bale. Once she reached it, she scuffed her foot in the dirt to hide the slowly drying remains of Hino's seed, then turned and hopped up onto it, her legs wide and hands behind her as she leaned back. "So what's your name, pretty?"

"Z- Zina."

"Cute name, for a pretty lady," Sagessa smiled. "If it weren't for that scar, you'd be the prettiest woman I've ever met. Might be still, though there's a couple up in Kakariko that can give you a gallop for it. Oh- sorry. Didn't think it'd bring up memories, or whatever."

Clearly, she had caught the flicker of pain in her face, maybe her eyes too, but Zelda shook her head. "It... it was a long time ago."

"I guess. Still, you are quite pretty. You could make a good living if you pick your clients well. Don't go for the rough or diseased once, mostly. Tasseren and Magheren keep the rougher ones out of the Stable for the most part, but every once in a while a ruffian slips through. Looks like you can handle yourself though, with all those weapons."

Zelda blushed, glancing down at the sword on her hip, "I... I suppose. I'm not as skilled as I'd like to be, but I can handle a few Bokoblins."

Sagessa whistled, her eyes wide, clearly impressed. "That's more'n a lot of folks can say. Most can do one, but two... three is a slaughter for all but the best road-guards, and even then they're taking their chances. To clear a camp usually takes at least one each so they don't gang up."

"R- Really?" Suddenly Zelda realized that, as worldly as Sagessa seemed to be, there were ways in which she would never be her equal. Probably didn't ever want to be, either. "I've... uh... handled a few... at once."

"Seriously?"

The blonde nodded, and the brunette let out another low, slow whistle. "Damn. Never mind. You could make a damned nice living on your back, don't get me wrong, but if you can fight that well... only the very best guards can do that, like I said, and if you're lucky enough to live through it... you can probably make more as a monster hunter."

"W- Well... I do have some money saved up that I didn't have a few weeks ago."

That was true. She hadn't anything a few weeks ago, not even her consciousness.

Sagessa shook her head, looking up at the bright, near-cloudless blue sky for a moment. "Eh, well, keep it in mind if you decide that life's too dangerous, I guess. And keep me in mind if you ever decide you want someone to keep your bed warm, yeah?"

"O- Oh. I... you were... serious?"

Sagessa snorted this time, looking down at Zelda's renewed blush with amusement, "O'course. Like I said, a woman can do things no man can. I know how to treat a girl just fine, thanks. Comes with the business. Should I lose out on half my clientele just 'cause of notions that weren't even popular back when we had lords and ladies in the castle o'er the mountain?"

"I... I guess not," Zelda conceded, "It's just... where I'm from that sort of thing is... not looked down on, I suppose, but not... talked about. At least not that often, or so openly."

At least, again, as far as Zelda could remember. It seemed right, but there was more to it, things she should remember and could not.

The prostitute only shrugged, nonchalant, "Eh, whatever. Keep it in mind. I heard Magheren say you were heading up to the Sheikah village?"

Zelda nodded, and asked, "Who's Magheren? And... what was the other one... Tasseren?"

"Yeah. Tasseren runs the stable part, and Magheren the boarding rooms. She's the older lady, he the big guy with long, dark hair. Swarthy. His brother's even darker skinned, but not brown like the folks from further south, or down in Lurelin. Just a darker tan."

Thinking about it a few moments brought at least their faces to mind, "So Magheren is the one who... took care of my wound? When I was sick?"

Sagessa nodded, "Yep."

"Ah. I just realized as you said it I didn't know her name, and we met four days ago! How rude she must think me!"

That made the prostitute actually laugh out loud, "Nah. Most folks aren't so eager to give up a name, so we mostly don't ask. You never know who you can trust, yeah? If you can come and go a time or two without causing trouble, then she'd have asked you. Not worth getting a name if they're gonna cause trouble or get killed on the road, you know?"

As cruel as it sounded, that did make a morbid sort of sense to Zelda, who could only grimace as she nodded in agreement.

"Anyway, Tasseren's the guy at the counter outside, and his cousin, Rensa, is usually at the actual stables, if he's not in the plains out east of here."

"Is he... a skilled warrior, then?"

Sagessa giggled again, waving one hand in the air, "Rensa? No. He's pathetic, actually, though he's as large as his cousin. No, Tasseren handles most of our protection when the road-guards aren't around, and organizes them too. It's his Stable, handed down from his pappy and all, so he does most of the leadership work. Rensa came from... I think it was the Central Stable, a few years back, and has been here since. Bit longer than I've been here, from what I heard. I'm from Hateno, in case you were wondering.

"Anyway, Rensa... while Tasseren runs the Stable, Rensa runs the small-s stable for him. Keeps the horses in good shape with his assistants, catches more, is in charge of breeding and breaking, taming and teaching the animals. Well, the horses. Randisa, his wife, takes care of the Cuccos and sheep."

"He... he must love horses then, if that's all he does."

Zelda started a little at the prostitute's loud snort, "Don't let his wife hear you say that- you'll get an earful. I don't think he loves the horses, if you know what I mean, but he sure does spend a lot of time with 'em. She'd rather he fucks me than the horses, though, I'm sure."

The idea made Zelda's skin darken again. Something about the brunette just made it so easy for her to get embarrassed!

Maybe it was just not being around people very much for such a long time, Zelda couldn't really say, but this woman in particular had it all too easy. "Y- Y-you have... well, with him, too? Even though he's married?"

Sagessa only shrugged casually again, "I've been with near every man that comes 'round or lives here at one time or 'nother. Rensa is probably actually my favorite- he's hung like a horse for real. Not literally, but still, big man. I love it! His wife's a... well, not that nice. Good at what she does, but unpleasant, and not great looking, either, so he's usually happy to come by. I spend time with Tasseren to lower my rent, and even Beedle if he can be bothered."

"B- Beetle?"

"No, Beedle," Sagessa corrected, waving over Zelda's shoulder this time, "You probably saw his stall out there. Man gets all over Hyrule, they say, but I've only ever seen him at the Stables. Probably the most traveled merchant there is. Plenty wander the roads, but most only visit one or two places. They say Beedle goes everywhere there's a sale to be made. Prices... eh. Same as anyone else really, but he has more stock than most. Worth a look if you haven't been. Anyway, I should get to a bath. Dobbin will want to be 'round soon, and he doesn't like it when I'm sticky from someone else. I'll be seeing you round, Zina, I hope. Keep me in mind. And watch the roadside to Kakariko, it's pretty bad these days."

"I- I'll do that," Zelda murmured. For a while, she had almost forgotten that Sagessa was a whore, a woman who pleasured men (and apparently women) for money. It was the pleasant conversation that had drawn her in, she decided, as she followed the woman back around the yurt and into the noisier areas.

It couldn't have been her looks she found so captivating.

Could it?