Upon King Rhoam's return to the castle following the discovery of not one but two impersonations, the castle was kept in a somewhat locked down state. Only certain people were permitted to come and go and they had to prove their identities.
King Rhoam had been shocked that Captain Arn had been one of the two impersonations. A strong chill went down his back at how easily the Yiga had fooled him and the other guards. How close he had been to potentially dying.
And Link. Link had been impersonated.
His daughter had been around the charlatan for days. Unprotected. Unsafe.
For one, Rhoam was amazed nothing worse had happened to her and her baby. On the other hand, he was horrified that such a thing had even happened.
Was security in the castle so lacking that imposters had infiltrated so high in their ranks? It felt almost unreal.
Rhoam looked out his study window where a group of knights were undergoing physical assessments down below. Some struggled more than others, while some held out better than most.
Was it possible that there were more in that group itself? Some pretending to be weak to undermine suspicion? Maybe it was the stronger ones? Or the ones seeming completely average…
Rhoam looked to his study door where he knew Captain Reinhartd was currently posted.
If Arn and Link had been replaced, what if that captain had also been? He didn't know the baron as well as he did Arn.
He didn't want to imagine the possibility, but he chose to believe the probability he hadn't also been replaced. The captain's time in the infirmary could almost confirm it with the way he'd been found that day.
Paralysed within an inch of his life, bearing obvious signs of a struggle, weapon kicked far from his reach, Rhoam doubted the Yiga would have disarmed their own comrade when going after his daughter.
There was a crisp knock on his door.
"Your Majesty, the Duke of Akkala has come to pay you a visit," The Captain's voice resounded clearly through the thick door.
Rhoam let out a sigh of relief. He could almost always count on his dear friend. He seemed to hang around the castle more often these days since the first ball of the season, and he'd been good company despite the lingering stress that followed every corner of the castle. An unwavering loyalty he could trust.
"Let him in." Rhoam stated loudly. His personal circle was small enough, and the duke was always pleasant enough to be around.
The door creaked open and the duke stepped in, bowing his head with a practiced precision. "Your Majesty," Peter said, still bowed. "It has been too long, friend."
"It has, come sit." Rhoam smiled and offered the other seat near the fireplace. He pulled a second glass from his liquor cabinet and poured him a small whiskey. The duke recovered from his bow, placed his riding coat on a nearby stand and walked to the seat. "Tell me you have some good news for me, Peter."
"I do. It would seem one of your problems has finally chosen to fix itself." The duke smiled knowingly.
Rhoam looked up and stared at the fireplace, deep in thought. He had many problems and at least five new ones since two days earlier.
"Which problem?"
"The one concerning your position as King."
Rhoam sighed. "Sir Link has yet to return, the matter is far from fixed."
"Not the Hero, the other one."
Finally, light at the end of the tunnel. "Is he finally dead?"
"Presumed, yes." The duke told him. He drank the remaining whiskey from his glass and poured himself and Rhoam another drink. "It would seem he vanished two days prior, and neither wife nor daughter seem know of his current whereabouts. Something about coming to the castle, yet he never arrived."
"Good." Rhoam took a swig of the ember whiskey. "That man's been a thorn in my side for twenty-five years." It was the best news he had heard in months.
"And mine for thirty, Your Grace." Peter lifted his glass to Rhoam and drank it down. "Who knew a bastard could give so many people so many headaches?"
Rhoam took a swig of his drink. "Well I hope he fell in the moat." He grumbled. "It'd be nice not to have to worry about being spied on constantly."
"Of course, Sir." The duke agreed wholeheartedly. "Speaking of positions, might I broach the subject of your daughter's hand once more?"
"What of it, Peter? I've told you many times that she's smitten with that boy, that hasn't changed." Rhoam sighed heavily and drank more of the whiskey. "She's still with child, I wish not to interfere at this stage." The memories of his wife's struggles to carry to term flashed in his mind—he didn't wish that on Zelda. His wife had struggled to carry past the first trimester, and his daughter was nearing her third successfully with little complications.
Peter scoffed lightly, hiding his displeasure with a light air. "No, of course not, but she is still unwed and neither she nor Sir Link have publicly claimed to have paired properly either…" Peter continued.
What a pile of rubbish. The idea that two souls could be tied in such a way seemed clownish to Rhoam. It had caused him enough headaches since he'd begun courting his wife years ago, and the problem was still haunting him in both generations.
"Give Sir Link a few more days to return. If he's yet to show his face, I will think on the topic of her hand." He looked at his dear friend and thought of something. The duke had also tried to court the Queen years ago but she'd been wholly uninterested in his advances. He remembered a few playful duels between the two of them for the honor of who would get to ask her to dance first at a ball. It had been all good fun between the two when they were youths, but his friend was a youth no longer. "Don't you think you're a bit old now to be trying to court my daughter?"
"Oh off with that," Peter joked. "Do I look like I need a cane already? You know what a pretty, young wife can do for her husband, you know these things."
A fifteen year age gap with his wife wasn't terribly uncommon, he knew of Lords who married women twenty, some even came close to thirty years younger than themselves, but a thirty-four year gap? That was starting to stretch their standards.
Rhoam felt he already knew what Zelda was going to say to this useless attempt on courting from Duke Peter's part, but all he could do was shrug. "Do as you please, Peter, but she seems determined to be with her little hero." He warned him.
It didn't seem to bother Duke Peter in any manner. "I've learned I can be quite persuasive, Your Grace."
"May luck be on your side, old friend," Rhoam would not have placed any wagers in Peter's favour. Frankly, it would be rather entertaining to see how Zelda dealt with this latest attempt to draw her away from her knight—however absent he might currently be.
In one of the cooler parlour rooms of the castle, Zelda was enjoying a small cup of ginger tea in the company of Lady Impa and Miss Cherry. She sipped the tea slowly, hoping to quell the nausea in her stomach.
Since the castle had gone under lockdown, her anxiety had gone down ever so slightly, but her nausea had come back in full force and Doctor Finri pushed her to come see him every day. Something about wanting to prevent the effects of bond neglect from affecting her baby. She wasn't quite sure what the doctor could do about it. Link was still missing. Link, Arn, and even Link's father—it was starting to look like anyone who could protect her was vanishing one after the other. What if I never see him again? What if the Yiga keep him imprisoned forever? Father will never agree to any ransom… she gripped the teacup so tightly that she snapped the thin handle of porcelain. The cup fell to the ground, spilling deep orange tea across the floor.
"Here, Princess," Impa said, gently taking the broken teacup from her hand and mopping up the spill. Cherry poured her another cup.
"Thank you," Zelda murmured.
No matter how much tea and water she drank, meals she ate, or rest she got, there was a near constant throbbing of a headache and an empty ache at the pit of her stomach that unfortunately turned into nausea whenever it was mealtime.
Even now, the biscuit she nibbled on had a 50-50 chance of coming back up in about an hour.
It made it difficult to listen to the report Miss Cherry was giving her.
About one week earlier, she'd sent a small crew to Tabantha to check on Revali and Vah Medoh to avoid a repeat of the events of Vah Naboris.
They'd found structural damage to one of Vah Medoh's wings and, while it didn't seem to be too bad at first glance, it was an atypical corrosion no one had ever seen before.
"What of the cost?" Zelda inquired. "I'm sure that's not a minor fix from the sounds of it…" She mumbled, dejected.
Cherry nervously exchanged a glance with her. "The broken mechanism is in Vah Medoh's wing. While the Beast can still function without it, we are running low on parts once again. I fear we may have to substitute with iron parts rather than magic this time."
Zelda tried to ignore the flush in her neck and back. She leaned back in her chair and looked at the ceiling. She took slow, deep breaths to try to ache the growing nausea settling in since morning.
The last time they'd substituted the ancient Sheikah parts with regular metal ones lacking magical properties, they hadn't lasted nearly long enough and it had taken hours of labour on the part of metal workers and blacksmiths. Unenchanted metals just weren't sturdy enough to handle the size and combat properties of Divine Beasts.
Guardians maybe, but not anything bigger than Skywatchers in development.
Zelda picked up her fan and lightly fanned herself. "Could we maybe swap the parts from inactive guardians in favour of Vah Medoh?" She asked.
Her mind jumped to the empty carcasses of the guardians in the Forgotten Temple in the Breach. Is it really a good idea to take those parts for a Divine Beast? Do I want to risk the pieces still being infected and spreading?
No. She couldn't risk that. She couldn't let that sort of nightmare come to pass.
She felt a strong kick to her stomach, and then something akin to her stomach flipping inside out.
Stay down, stay down, stay down… She begged internally. She picked up her cup of ginger tea and took a sip almost desperately.
"Are you alright, Princess?" Cherry asked anxiously.
Zelda nodded behind her tea. "You were talking about Vah Medoh?" She tried to redirect the topic back. It was serving as a good distraction. "The parts, can they be replaced?"
Cherry stayed quiet for a moment, studying her briefly. "I suppose they could." she hesitated. "Given what has already occurred a few weeks before and the commotion in Vah Naboris, we'd rather make the pieces ourselves…" She explained. "We don't know the identity of the sorcerer who sent the monsters after Chief Urbosa and the research team yet and we'd rather not touch something he has cursed without our knowledge."
Zelda understood. "Could it be possible to have the Marquess have a look?" She asked. The Marquess of Kakariko was among the few titled families of Kakariko whose personal service to the Crown extended as far as Zelda could recall and they had quite the expertise in the detection of foul magics.
"Of course, I'll see if Lady Aina is available." Cherry smiled. "We'll likely have to pay for her time, I hear she's quite busy dealing with taking over from her father."
Zelda sighed quietly. "Of course, I forget the man is nearly 95. I thought of stopping by myself, but-"
"You mustn't, Your Highness. The wards will keep you safe here until we can locate Sir Link." Cherry interrupted her with a smile.
Zelda stopped herself. "You called him Sir Link." she pointed out. Despite hearing him called that for years, the sudden shift of the last few weeks had made hearing the once familiar title strange.
Cherry seemed confused for a moment. "I understand he's been elevated, but it is what he still desires to be called, no?"
Before Zelda could answer, she heard the door to the parlour open. She watched Duke Peter of Akkala enter. A confident smile, hair kept neat, his grays styled meticulously in his dark hair, neatly tailored clothes, the old duke was up to something and Zelda knew it.
"Madam, you ought to give the proper respects to the future monarchs, your 'Sir Link' is the Prince Consort of our beautiful future Queen, he should be styled appropriately." The Duke of Akkala proudly announced as he sauntered over to the table with his usual confidence.
Zelda felt an intense desire to groan and throw her teacup at the old Duke, but decorum held her back. She glanced at Cherry, who seemed equally as confused as to why the duke was here.
"Your Grace, I wasn't aware we had an appointment today," Zelda said, feigning ignorance to her schedule. She knew she wasn't meant to have tea with this man.
The duke took a smooth bow, her hand in his and kissed the back of it for a moment too long.
Zelda endured the discomfort and pulled her hand back as soon as she could. There was a strange tingle in her skin once the contact ended but she chose to ignore it. His physical presence was usually casual and his use of perfumes and colognes to a minimum, but today… It was strange.
Duke Peter recovered from his bow. "We do not, Princess, but His Majesty told me I could find you here," He told her smoothly. "It seems you've had a rough couple of weeks and I thought I ought to check in on you myself for peace of mind."
An honourable gesture if I wasn't keenly aware of your motives, Zelda couldn't help but think. She smiled faintly and nodded her head. "I am fine, and I'm doing better now, Your Grace." She replied as neutrality as possible. She turned to face Cherry once again. "Miss Cherry, we ought to push the rest of your report for later today, is that alright?" She asked. She hated the formalities, but if it meant it held the line of professionalism in the duke's eyes, then so be it.
"Of course, Your Highness. I am available all day for you." Cherry stood up, bowed her head and retreated out of the room. Impa remained in the corner, watching her diligently as the duke unbuttoned his jacket and took a seat across from Zelda.
Zelda suddenly had that shift in her stomach once again. Maybe it was the baby, but her stomach was flipping and twisting itself into different knots. She wanted to back away from him slowly; his scent was overwhelmingly strong today, but she didn't detect any colognes. "How have you been, Your Grace?" She asked. She motioned for one of the maids to come pour some tea. "I hope you're fine with ginger tea."
The duke smiled. "Any tea served by you is suitable for my tastes." He lifted a hand to the maid to tell her to stop. The woman bowed out and returned to the side.
Zelda sipped her tea as the duke took his first sip. She had a tinge of satisfaction watching the duke's brow knit ever so slightly at the taste. She'd asked for it to be a bit stronger to combat her near-constant nausea.
Duke Peter put the tea down and took a biscuit from the tray. "I do hope the burdens of the Court and Crown haven't been too hefty as of recent?"
Zelda shook her head. She picked up her fan and began waving air into her face. "The Court proceedings have been cancelled until further notice. Sir Arn and the Prince Consort must be found—that is our current priority."
"Of course, it is only natural." The duke leaned over the table in what Zelda assumed was meant to be a charming gesture. "But if you ever desire an experienced advisor to help with these things rather than cancel them outright, I am always at your disposal, Princess. "
Zelda felt warm fluid come up her throat. She took a sip from her tea to push it back down. "A generous offer, but I would rather the castle be secure beforehand as there are no pressing political matters in need of urgent discussion." Why am I so warm all of a sudden? She continued to wave her fan casually. She locked eyes with Impa across the room, she didn't seem to detect anything in the air.
"Of course, but the tides may always shift in a moment's notice."
She put her cup down and brought her hands together. "Is there a situation I ought to be aware of, Your Grace? You make allusions to the tides changing but there's nothing that seems to require any immediate attention."
The duke smiled casually. "Oh I've always adored the way you make things so straight forward, Princess." he told her, shooting her a warm glance that made her stomach churn. "With the impending rise of the Calamity and His Highness' disappearance, I simply desired to offer up my many years of counsel to you if the worst were to take place."
"And as I've said many times, your offer is seen and heard, Duke Peter, but I have many experienced counsel ready at the drop of a hat to offer me advice, both militarily and politically."
"Your Highness, surely the weight of the Crown could be alleviated with the proper companionship offered by one who's familiar to these ways of life." The duke smiled. He lifted his teacup to his lips in a gentle manner but Zelda could see there was almost an overly familiar sparkle in his eye. It did nothing to soothe the queasiness in her stomach.
Zelda sipped her tea and glanced at Impa across the room briefly. She seemed as uncomfortable with the duke's words as she did. The subtle dig at Link disguised as a casual statement was more than obvious, and it was starting to look like she needed to be more firm in her refusal.
"Your devotion to the Crown has always been noted and appreciated, Your Grace." Zelda replied back, sticking as politically neutral as possible. She didn't want to give the duke any more semblance of a chance than he already thought he had.
The duke smiled proudly. "It is more than a pleasure to be of counsel for you, Princess. I do hope my invaluable wisdom may be appealing to you soon enough,"
Zelda felt the twist in her stomach get worse. She forced it back down behind her cup. "I am rather fond of my current companionship." She replied, putting the cup down. Her headache beat in her head like a gong. "Was your offer of counsel the only matter you wished to discuss?"
Please don't say courtship, please don't mention it.
"That would be all for now, Princess." He rose to his feet and bowed. "I am always available to you, whether you desire an ear or something a bit more discreet." he lowered his voice and motioned in Impa's direction with his eyes.
"Noted." Was all Zelda said back. She feared if she said more, she might actually vomit from his revolting offer.
"I hope you have a splendid day, Your Highness." He kissed the back of her hand while maintaining eye contact with her.
"And to you as well, Your Grace."
Zelda watched him leave the room, her heart beating in her throat. She felt almost dizzy now, her stomach churned and churned until finally, the door clicked shut. She turned to the maid, a hand to her mouth, and pointing to the nearby trash she'd requested to have on standby.
Her breakfast never stood a chance.
From the moment they killed that impersonator, Link and Arn were never left with any less than two guards. They never retrieved their comrade's body from the cell, and they kept eyeing the sickle and carver in the hands of their prisoners. They knew they wouldn't be able to re-chain Link to the wall, he knew they would try to get him unconscious, and by his glare alone, they knew that would be a nearly impossible task without a direct confrontation with the hero.
Not only that, but the two also lost their banana privileges.
What went from one generous banana for two a day turned into nothing.
If waiting them out was what it was going to take, then so be it, but Link and Arn were as alert as ever.
Now that Link could properly move, he paced his cell to get the blood flowing in his limbs again. He held the metal bracing plate from the wall in his hands as he stretched sometimes, and he seemed to almost play with the large slab. The chains clanged against each other every time he moved, and Link seemed to almost revel in it by beating them together in an almost musical rhythm.
In a wordless agreement between them, Arn took the first short nap while Link stayed awake and next to him. He used Link's thigh as a pillow now that he could move away from the giant destroyed section of the wall. Then Arn would wake up in a bit and Link was finally able to lay down properly, doing the same to Arn.
The Yiga did nothing. The two guards would rotate out and switch the torch, but they wouldn't say anything, only staring at them.
And Arn? He still had the key for the cell door.
In some way, the Yiga had never seemed to suspect the key to their cell was missing. Whoever had given them the ring of keys dared not show his face to them, but even if he had come back to play as guard once more, there was no way for Link or Arn to differentiate him as their guards either had black or white hair, with the occasional brown-haired guard popping in.
Link couldn't keep his attention away from the corpse in their cell. It smelled putrid despite only having died a few hours before, which was strange.
His morbid curiosity eventually got the better of him.
He moved to sit next to the corpse and lifted the bandaged arm where the smell emanated the most. Link didn't need to get any closer to know it was a wound that had festered that was the source.
"Maybe don't play with the dead?" Arn suggested, his face looking a bit green with nausea. His foot bounced off the sand almost obsessively.
Link ignored him and pulled up the assassin's sleeve and felt bile come up into his throat. The bandages were soaked red and a distinct yellow colour.
It wasn't only Link and Arn who gagged, but their two Yiga guards outside their cell made the sound as well.
"Is this… a bite mark?" Link looked at the man's forearm in horror. The chunk of flesh was practically hanging off the man's arm. It had a distinctly round shape on the top and bottom and the chunk of flesh seemed to be hanging on by part of the muscle rather than muscle and skin.
"I don't know what you've taught that bitch of yours,"
"D-did Zelda do this?!" He was horrified. Goddess, he knew her teeth were sharp, but he didn't know they were so sharp they could do that .
He pulled the sleeve back down and backed away from the corpse, feeling bile coming up again.
"Princess Zelda did that?!" Arn repeated from behind him, pale. "What the fuck," he breathed out. The colour was draining from his skin fast.
"What the fuck, indeed." Link wasn't sure if he was allowed to be proud or terrified of her at the same time. That certainly gave meaning to the phrase 'Happy wife, happy life'...
I suppose this means she's alive. And she was brave enough to fight back… No one would've been this mad if they'd won a fight. He remembered just how angry that assassin had been when he first came to their cell.
"I think I'm going to need a bucket…" Arn muttered, holding his fist over his mouth.
It wasn't for another two days that anyone bothered to come by their cell again to give them anything. This time, they had a half banana to share between them.
Arn's shaking continued and the guards had been nice enough to throw them a bucket. Arn seemed to have an increasingly hard time keeping down the bananas they were thrown.
Link wasn't exactly sure what was going on with Arn because he felt fine, but he had a sneaking suspicion it had to do with Arn's lack of alcohol for the entire last week.
Then, at one point when no one was watching, a guard threw them both a full banana.
Once those were done, the current guards were dismissed quietly and there stood two guards, both with white hair.
Then the door clicked open.
"Move it before I change my mind." The taller of the two ordered.
Link barely had the time to blink before he was being pulled to his feet by the chains still around his wrist. They jingled against the forming scabs and scars around his wrists before completely falling to the ground.
I'm… being let go? No, that was an absurd idea. He looked to Arn who stood clumsily and leaned against the wall. He still held his blade in his hand, but it shook a bit.
"Stop dawdling, let's go." The guard pushed him out of the cell and into the hallway while Arn followed two steps behind.
Link froze.
Every single clansman was frozen in place, some stood at doorways, somewhere in the middle of a task, but regardless none looked their way.
He could hardly compare it to when he fought; those monsters still moved ever so faintly. Here… nothing moved.
No, that was wrong. The torch's flame shifted slowly when he breathed in its direction.
"Where are you taking us?" Link asked roughly.
The clansman laughed behind his mask. "A bargain has been struck, now hurry your asses out of that cell before I change my mind."
Link turned to Arn and noticed that he was already awfully suspicious of this guy. He lacked the trust he'd had in the man who'd given them the key.
So not the same guy.
"What sort of bargain?" Arn asked, steadily rising to his feet. He held his blade close to him, ready.
"You comin' or not?" The Yiga asked them, completely evading the question. "And take those weapons with you, you'll want them."
Link exchanged a glance of uncertainty with Arn.
The man was letting them take weapons ? It felt far too good to be true.
While the Yiga scout's back was partially turned, Link's hands started moving. 'Do you think we're fighting someone?'
Before Arn could answer anything, the scout started laughing.
"Sign all you want, I know what you're saying." The Yiga laughed.
Link tried to get a read on him, any hint or scent that could give away his identity, but the damn hideout made everyone smell so similar. Just bananas, incense, and other smaller things, but this time, he picked up on something peculiar.
The presence of a more foresty scent that reminded him of home… but it wasn't nearly strong enough to be coming from him directly, so Link chalked it up to it originating from someone else—or more specifically, someone from Necluda.
They continued to walk through the halls, passing frozen clansmen everywhere. Link stayed on guard, unsure if they would unfreeze and attack them
They passed makeshift armouries, a large room with crates that smelled suspiciously of blood.
But everything remained frozen as it had earlier. They walked by blademasters, clansmen, even some footmen eating to the side. Some were doing inventory, one was half hanging out of a box.
So many banners, so many frog statues with curious pages glued over their faces, and so much sand. But Link noted the lack of sky light.
Are we underground? We have to be in the desert for this much sand to be present… He didn't know any rock structures this elaborate in the desert and surely, Urbosa would have told them about it if she'd known. Maybe there's a secret entrance hidden… He couldn't discount the idea that an entrance existed among the countless rock towers and ruins scattered around the dunes.
Link quickly found that the hideout wasn't nearly as big as he'd initially thought. Sneaking around would have taken hours, but walking by all the gates and guards, it took them less than a half-hour to walk through the entire place.
He and Arn were led into an empty room off to the side. There was a dais in the middle, drums on shelves lining the walls, and what seemed to be treasure chests sticking out of the ground.
There was a small wooden crate on the floor, next to a metal wall.
The Yiga turned to him, a knowing smile directed at him. "Hero, I hear you like spicy food, are there truths to this?"
Link nodded slowly. "I… suppose?" It was a strange thing to ask.
He was then tossed a bowl of chopped banana pieces, glowing red with spices. The bowl was filled to the brim and there was a soft red glaze.
"I'd eat that now while you still have a feasible chance at escape." The taller clansmen laughed to himself and motioned to the bowl.
Link debated on whether he should have a piece or not. "Why do you want us to escape so badly?"
"I've struck a bargain with someone to exchange you—besides, our client is 3 days late on his payment and shows no signs of fulfilling his end of our contract anytime soon. Now eat up or you'll regret it."
Link could feel the faintest draft in the room, but he saw no exit, no window, or anything. Maybe there was a crack in the walls somewhere?
"Oh! I almost forgot about you, big guy!" The Yiga exclaimed while giving him half a banana.
Arn didn't take the banana. He simply stared at it for a minute. "Why is most of it gone?"
"Sorry, I got hungry on my way to the cell." He laughed as if it was a funny joke.
"Ha… right… thanks." Arn took the banana with hesitation. "You are so kind…" Arn shot a glare at the Yiga behind him. There was a clear bite mark on the banana.
"It's edible, I promise," that same Yiga signed. 'He's just a jackass.'
"Hey, watch it."
Link quietly watched the two clansmen glare at each other through their masks. The quiet one flipped him off and the asshole smacked him upside the head.
I don't know what to think anymore… One minute, they're hyper-competent, the next, it's the most unserious shit I've ever seen.
He headed the warning and ate the few banana pieces, hoping that he wasn't being lied to. He could immediately feel warmth under his skin, like a fire lit in his belly. The cold draft did nothing except cool the surface of his skin.
Link recognised the sensation. Were they going somewhere cold? A frozen wasteland maybe? Were they being released on a cold mountain top and their new task was to survive?
He couldn't help but warily glance at Arn. He hadn't been given the same. Sure Arn had more muscle and fat on his body than he did, but it wasn't nearly enough to keep him warm if they were going somewhere they needed a warming effect.
He touched his dress shirt pensively. It was awfully thin material and barely insulated against the draft in the room. His pants would do, but he knew he was still going to hate whatever was to come.
"Leave the bowl." The tall one ordered him. He moved towards the metal wall and picked up a stick for one of the drums. "Back up a bit."
Link took two steps back as the clansmen hit the drum in a short unique pattern. Seven hits, different speeds and tempos, then the wall flipped open.
'Escape for the snow. Don't stop running.' The quiet one signed.
Link couldn't help but feel an intense deja-vu. The style wasn't that of Kakariko, but it felt so familiar, and he just couldn't put his finger on it.
'Eat shit, Shortstack.' was quickly added at the end of the instructions.
How rude! Link almost wanted to throw the sickle at the man's head.
A sudden strong gust of wind pulled Link's attention away.
A cold blast of air and sand pelted him in the face, but the sight was almost breathtaking after spending Goddess-knows how long in the cell. He could see the sky, the stars and what looked like the tops of nearby mountains along their own ridges.
Freedom. The red banners lining the inside of the courtyard shut that thought down fast. It was built much like an arena, with a large hole in the middle, but the courtyard was empty.
"Run kid." The Tall clansmen pushed him roughly into the open, as Arn took his first steps outside. They visibly shivered at the first breath of air.
The sky was as dark as could be, and the moon was full and high in the sky. Link could see dark clouds ahead of them, but much of the courtyard was dark apart from small lanterns.
"Let's go." Arn muttered as they began running.
They hadn't made it halfway across the courtyard before whistles blew and puffs of smoke appeared.
Too good to be true. It's always too good to be true. Link readied himself with the sickle in hand, still running towards the gap in the mountains ahead.
Ding!
Link heard an arrow hit a rock just behind him. He turned and felt his heart jump. The courtyard was quickly filled with the footmen and blademasters.
And the two that had helped them escape? There was no telling where they were, whether they had joined those ranks or vanished instead.
He smelled the smoke before he heard the pop next to him, and immediately tightened his grip on his sickle. He drew first blood by slicing the scout's neck. He didn't pull his strength back. He was so close to freedom, only a few steps out into the snow and they'd be free to go home.
Home to Zelda. Home to Aunt Elise.
He could smell the determination and the sweat coming from Arn. The veteran captain held the lightweighted windcarver so tightly his knuckles turned white. It wasn't exactly his weapon of choice, but Link knew Arn wouldn't let anything stand in his way.
Link swung the sickle across, catching another scout at the neck. He briefly counted, but there were too many. Fifteen scouts in the courtyard from a brief look around before he had to parry another strike.
"There's too many," Link grunted as he swung the demon carver down onto the nearest scout, sending them sprawling into the sand.
The wind nipped at his skin.
Arn stabbed through a footman before forcing his boot against the scout's chest and pushing the man off the bloody blade. "I know that, but figure it out." He sliced down again.
Zelda… I just want to see you… He hated the thought that Zelda would see him so violent.
He swung down the blade again, directing the sharp tip of the sickle into the chest of the next scout.
Arn's method of using the windcarver made Link want to cry. He supposed not everyone had time to learn the varying sword techniques of the Sheikah or the Yiga…
He watched three scouts fall, arrows embedded in their backs. Link looked to where the arrows had originated, but found no one. Then his eyes drifted to the two more scouts who dropped.
Nothing but the semblance of a blur…
"Link!"
Link turned just as a sickle was coming down behind him. He focused on its path and side stepped out of the way.
He regained his footing and took the slowed opportunity to strike at the scout's chest a few times with the blade before kicking them away.
Not today. Everything sped back up again and Link felt a strain in his chest. I can't spend all my strength here… They needed to get going now. They couldn't waste their precious energy fighting when they would need it for the inevitable long walk through the snowy path.
"Stay focused" Arn shouted at him before thrusting his blade into the chest of another.
"Start running!" The taller Yiga scout ordered them. He pointed to the snowy passage between the mountains.
Before Link could say anything, Arn flicked the blood off the blade, sheathed it and grabbed his wrist. They started running for the passage. They heard arrows shoot through the air, shouts and blades clashing, but they didn't turn back. They simply made for the snow.
Link was far from eager to be running through the snow in nothing but formal slacks and a dress shirt, but it was far better than doing it naked.
It was now in particular that Link envied Arn's much larger stature. He had the body mass to keep him warm, but Link? No, he was as Elise said. Nothing but skin and bones in the plainest of words. It was going to be cold for the next few hours. The meal of spiced fruit was the only thing that could keep him from freezing, and he had no idea how long that would last.
He hopped onto the first step up. He already shivered from the blowing snow on his forearms.
Link glanced back. He watched the last aggressive footman fall thanks to their unexpected ally.
The shorter of the two Yiga began making his way towards the exit, but his eyes drifted to the taller of the two. He was pulling out a small ring with three cords with weights attached to the ends.
He began swinging it above his head and aimed.
Betrayal. Link knew they should run now, or else they'd be faced with the prospect of being treated like hunted cattle.
Link was sure his expression gave it away. The running scout looked back just as the bolas were launched. They flew too fast to dodge, entangling themselves around the waist and thighs of the scout. It sent him crashing to the ground, mask breaking off.
"Where do you think you're going, Half-Breed?" The taller of the two shouted with glee.
The taller of the two Yiga scouts who'd brought them here transformed out of the uniform and into a Sheikah woman. Link gaped. He'd been hearing and seeing a man this whole time…was that a disguise too? Sheikah magic was forever a mystery to him.
The woman was slender and taller than Link—no surprise there—but Link was shocked to see her vanish in a blur.
As the maskless scout untangled the bolas and went to stand, she kicked out his feet from beneath him.
Link caught a brief glance at the man's face. Blood ran down his forehead and stained his white hair. He held a hand to his face and looked at the blood on his hands, but Link was too far to properly discern if he'd ever seen him before, but he seemed somewhat familiar.
Maybe a face he'd seen in passing in the castle or in Kakariko Village. Maybe someone Zelda sent to rescue them? The infiltrator, perhaps?
The other scout hesitated to stand, but it was far too late. He staggered and lost his balance, then was sent flying towards the pit in the middle by a vicious kick from the woman. He landed roughly and his sword tumbled just out of reach before the female scout blurred out again and reappeared much closer to him. She gave a swift kick to the groin and then another strong enough to send him plummeting into the seemingly bottomless pit.
Link felt himself wanting to move, to aid whomever had broken them out, but Arn held a hand on his shoulder, pushing him back into the snow.
"Don't." Arn said, his voice cracked a bit. Link didn't know if it was from the fatigue of fighting or from the cold.
Their helpers had turned on each other.
Was that the way they operated? It was almost shameful.
Link felt ashamed. An ally left forgotten because he wanted freedom.
Link could only watch as the woman vanished away in a cloud of smoke. Whistles filled the courtyard again and Link knew they were about to have more company.
That man… He'd just fallen into the bottomless hole…
Arn pulled on Link's shoulder a bit, urging him to move on. "Link, we need to move," Arn told him, climbing through the snow.
Link nodded and took the first few steps into the snow, immediately shivering. The wind howled and nipped at his skin.
"Arn… Who… Who was that?" Link asked, still looking back. It was odd how the Yiga weren't chasing them through the mountains.
Arn shot him a glance and held eye contact for a moment before sighing. "It's no one—just a repentant Yiga. Let's just move before we freeze to death." There was a pain present in Arn's voice, but Link chose not to pry. They needed to survive and get out of the mountains.
Link looked back at the courtyard again.
Whoever had broken in had tried to save them. What are the chances he's still alive?
"Don't." Was all Arn told him. He stopped walking and glanced back at him over his shoulder. "Abandon your morals this one time." The older man sighed.
"But-"
"We'll be of no help if we go back." It was the first time Link really noticed Arn's age in his features. The pronounced crows feet around at the crease of his eyes, the discolouration under his eyes. "We need to prioritise going home."
Link looked back at the empty courtyard one last time. He saw no hands hanging onto the edge of the pit. He saw no tension in the decorative banners surrounding the interior.
Arn was right.
Link caught up to Arn in the snow, entering the heavy winds with him within reach. If anything, he had to make sure Arn got back to Elise.
He heard wolves howling in the winds.
I'll get back to you, Zelda. He thought of her in her room alone, surrounded by potential impostors. He thought of their baby, of never getting to hold it. He gritted his teeth and took Arn's arm. It was going to be a long night.