"You know, it's been a while since we've gotten to spar together!" Barnabus exclaimed with glee. Sparring with his buddy was always a highlight of his day, there were so few people who could carry on a proper mock-match with him without losing a few seconds in, and Link was an excellent spearman, one of the best.
Link followed quietly next to him with the faintest of smiles as they moved across the field to the indoor sparring arena. Today wasn't a day commonly used for sparring, but that just made it better. Less people would mean less distractions, which means they could go all out.
Barnabus opened the shed and passed Link his usual spear and grabbed his own before closing the shed up and entering the sparring ring and closing the door behind them.
They began their stretches off to the side while other knights and guards using the area waved them goodbye as they left. "When's the last time we got to spar like this?" Barnabus asked curiously. It had to have been over a month, maybe two even…
"A while." Was all Link replied with a shrug.
Barnabus spun his spear. It was a favourite of his—a knight's halberd. Sure, the asymmetrical head made it imbalanced, but that was part of the challenge. Conversely, Link's Royal Halberd was more of a flat trident than a true halberd. It suited him well, as he had studied with tridents in Zora's Domain.
"Alright!" Barnabus crowed, settling into a stance.
Link nodded, mirroring him. He adjusted his grip on the haft of the spear, and Barnabus went in with a lunge. He swept the long end of the spear out, knocking the blade of Link's spear away, then spun his own blade up at Link's throat.
Link managed to knock it away from his neck with a step back and a dry laugh.
Damn, usually he sees that move coming from a mile away, Barnabus thought.
"Your proficiency with your spear is going down." Barnabus commented dryly, examining Link with a cautious eye. Maybe we should switch to the wooden ones today? If Link was falling for such an easy move already, maybe it'd be better to not use sharp blades…
Usually he was a much harder opponent to defeat with a spear, but this was a laughably short match.
"What can I say, I've still got a pounding headache from a few days ago." He joked and picked up the spear once more.
Once the match began, it took no more than twenty seconds to knock the spear from his hands again.
It's like I'm teaching novices again. Link was never like this. No student of Princess Mipha would ever be seen with such deplorable defensive skills when she herself was among the most talented teachers he'd ever seen.
The more Barnabus used a critical eye, the more problems he saw. Link stood at a larger, sturdier stance built for someone with more weight and height than someone of his stature, and the length of the staff… Why did it look like Link was struggling with his spatial awareness when it was among his strengths with this particular weapon?
Link had been knocked over by strikes Barnabus could have dogged with his eyes closed.
Let's see if he can dodge a reverse grip thrust. It was an advanced manoeuvre that they had practised together relentlessly back in their training days as knights so it should have still been ingrained in his head considering they did this every time they sparred together.
He pulled a defensive stance and listened for the small bell. Link lunged first with the spear, bringing it down in painfully amateur manners, the swings lacking accuracy.
He barely had to dodge, he simply broke the hits with a nudge here and a nudge there of the butt of his spear, until he saw the opening he wanted.
He brought the tip of the spear down and shifted his hand position, then stepped forward quickly while swinging the spear behind his back into a sidewards arc before lunging it into Link's side with enough strength that would knock a rookie down completely.
Link's ribs were struck audibly and he yelped before dropping the spear and dropping to his knees. "Damn, I thought we were sparring, it's like you're trying to kill me." He shot back with a half joking tone.
That isn't Link.
Barnabus aimed the end of his spear directly at the imposter's throat, blade brought against his neck.
This imposter covers his tracks and scent awfully well. Barnabus noticed the chain under the imposter's shirt. I wonder… He brought the blade to the chain and yanked it out from under his shirt in a swift motion, breaking the chain and letting it fly off to the side.
The change in scent was instantaneous. Their surroundings no longer smelled like them, but the air suddenly gained an arid, almost dusty scent to it. This was almost an exact repeat of what had happened with Sir Thompson almost six months prior.
Like the desert.
"I'll ask you this once," He started, pushing the blade back at his throat. "Answer it or I kill you right here."
Barnabus ignored the shouts and the rushed footsteps coming from the exterior of the sparring ring.
"Loosen up, why so serious?" the impostor tried to deflect.
There was no defeat in this man's eyes. No fear, no jokes, no amusement. It was far from the typical reaction he'd received.
Think of times we were alone. Anything only we would know. Hell I shouldn't even ask, I'm almost sure of it. He made no move to move the spear, only pressing it further into his skin and watching a small trickle of blood seep out. "What did we do on your 19th birthday in Kara Kara bazaar?" He asked, tightening his grip on the blade.
"Dredging up old memories, are we?"
The answer to that question was always 'booze and a little secret'. Link's 19th birthday was a wild party in the desert, they'd been on a recon mission looking into the increased Yiga presence in the area, but they hadn't told too many people they were out there. It lasted three days, and in the evenings, alcohol flowed, good company all around, and many new experiences they weren't quite allowed to speak of in Hyrule's general public.
"Answer the question." He can't, why am I even bothering?
He brought the spear down into a cloud of red smoke.
Barnabus stared into the sand where his spear had planted itself. The fucker had vanished.
What he hadn't expected was the smoke to reappear behind him.
Having honed his reaction time to the finest he could, he swivelled and slammed the spear into the imposter's side, creating distance between them. The Yiga were short distance fighters unless they had a bow, and this one didn't even seem to be carrying a weapon—bow or sickle.
Barnabus instinctively reached for the whistle in his pocket to alert the guards outside, but found it gone. He glanced at the Yiga, who dangled it from the silver chain in his hand.
"Looking for this?"
He had to get it back or alert the guards outside of what was happening.
Poof!
He turned his attention to where the new sounds were coming, but he couldn't locate where the second appearance had come from. The Yiga imposter was still standing a few feet ahead of him, but where had the second come fr—He pivoted on his feet again just in time to see a small feathered dart implant itself into the dirt.
Above. He looked up to see three more Yiga footmen perched on the higher beams. A 4v1 match… Not very fair. But when did they ever fight fair was the better question.
He noticed two above the beams, the ends of their bows poking out ever so slightly, then the third had the reed straw. Barnabus was sure there had to be multiple more of those darts. How was he meant to dodge three different projectiles when he couldn't hear or see them?
I need to take care of that one first. The one impersonating Link had to be taken out. Who knew what information he had regarding them now? What had he learned? Done? What had he snuck out of the castle under everyone's noses?
And his whistle. He needed that damn whistle.
'Link' pocketed the whistle and picked up the spear again, this time handling it in one of his hands while pulling out a sickle from behind his back.
"Cowards," growled Barnabus. It was times like these that he wished he could whistle like the real Link could. He had tried to teach Barnabus multiple times but all he could manage was a pathetic blubbering noise. Yelling also wouldn't do any good, because everyone was used to yelling coming from the sparring hall.
I need to take as many down with me as I can, Barnabus thought. He thought of his baby daughter and lunged.
The first strike was parried by the Yiga to his left, but the butt of the spear knocked the assassin on their ass. Barnabus heard the sound of another dart hitting the ground with a soft sound.
The imposter was smiling at him, still wearing his best friend's face.
Barnabus jumped toward him.
Ignore the spear, go for the sickle, it's the weapon he's more familiar with, Barnabus thought. He used the prongs of the halberd and trapped the sickle between them, driving the weapon into the dirt.
'Link' shoved the spear towards him.
Barnabus moved two inches to the left and brought his forehead straight onto the bastard's nose.
The impostor howled and dropped both weapons, clutching his bloody nose.
Barnabus felt a stinging on the back of his shoulder blade and felt for the dart. It had lodged itself into the muscle pretty deeply… He felt a sense of numbing begin to over take the area.
End it now, you've been hit. He pulled the dart out and threw it to the ground and tightened his grip on his spear. He could feel the numbness travelling down his back and into his upper arms. Only a matter of seconds before he wouldn't be able to feel or hold his spear.
In his peripherals, he spotted the first signs of the red smoke about to appear on his side.
Poof!
He swung the blade of his spear into the cloud as fast as he could and watched a long splatter of blood appear as the smoke faded, the Yiga Footmen then collapsed into the sand and dirt of the sparring arena, hand to the throat to stop the bleeding. His spear had created a long arc of blood splatter along the wall and even on the imposter.
The numbness travelled into his forearms and his thighs; he could feel himself starting to lose balance and strength in his grip and stance.
"You're good, I'll give you that, Barns." 'Link' complimented from afar. "Had I been alone, you surely would have won, so perhaps you should be proud of that." He approached the captain with his two weapons and a mocking expression painted across his friend's face.
He feigned a strike with his sickle, but as Barnabus readied to respond… Poof!
The numbness had overtaken too much and his limbs felt heavier than lead, far too difficult to react appropriately.
He felt the sharp sting of the sickle into his side before being kicked in the lower back and into the dirt.
Barnabus heard the dangling of the chain his whistle had been on and watched it land a few feet away from him in the dirt. The crackling of dirt approached his head until a knee next to his head came into sight.
"I'll leave you alive, but only to feel the guilt of knowing the princess' blood is on your hands." the impostor told him ominously before vanishing in the cloud of red smoke.
Barnabus felt the dread of those words fall on him like a wall of stone. The princess' death would be on his hands. He failed to kill the imposter, he failed to alert the other guards and he'd be forced to face the fact that Princess Zelda would die because of his incompetence.
I'm sorry Link. He tried his best to reach the whistle fallen just out of reach but his arms felt too heavy. It felt as though he was trying to swim with a rock in his arms. Just reach the whistle. That's all he had to do.
He tried to shout, but found the air in his lungs refused to echo out louder than a strong whisper.
You trusted me with the Princess and I failed you. I'm sorry. He tried to drag himself across the dirt, but found himself too heavy on the soft sand. He'd never be able to get to the damn thing in time. It would take forever for whatever drug to wear off, and by then, it'd be far too late.
To make matters worse, Barnabus had a full sight of the clock on the wall, ticking away agonisingly. Trying to reach for that whistle while watching full minutes go by seemed to exacerbate his guilt and dread. Trained, competent assassins didn't need more than a few minutes to take out a target, the exceptional ones could do it under five, and now Barnabus could only watch as one minute, three minutes, five minutes, ten minutes passed.
He could do nothing but watch, his limbs numb, prickling with a thousand needles, heavy as lead in the dirt and blood.
"Captain? Are you both almost don—" He heard a timid voice echo into the arena. "Captain!" He heard the door fly open and multiple people come in.
There was an instant whistle blowing in the arena, then a cacophony of them in the courtyard, triggering others in the distance, then no more than a full minute later, a bell in the nearest guardhouse, then each following until all three could be heard echoing.
"Captain! What happened?" He was picked up and sat up as another guard rushed over to the Yiga corpse on the ground, bleeding out. "Where's Link?"
"Yiga. Not him." He tried to speak as loudly as possible, but it only came out in mere whispers, but it had been enough.
"Where'd he go? Do you know?"
"The Princess. Get to the Princess." He ordered them quietly.
He didn't need to repeat himself. It was as if all the guards in the arena immediately ran off to those words, ready for action. He could only pray now that it wasn't too late.
It only bugged him now. How had Link of all people been replaced? There was no way he'd been caught in combat, everyone would've known.
"Pounding headache from a few days ago."
A few days ago. He'd been drugged and drunk.
Link had been out of commission for combat yesterday and he'd been shockingly good at remembering pieces of his politics lessons.
They were swapped when they got drunk that night. There's no way anyone can get him sober. If a Yiga member could get past Link and impersonate him, then it had to be to get to Princess Zelda.
He was with Arn, wasn't he? It dawned on him that he didn't speak much with the oldest captain in their group.
Arn would have noticed this new Link in a heartbeat. So why hadn't he? When they parted ways, was it perhaps then? Barnabus hadn't heard anything about them going their own separate ways.
He'd been told Arn and Link had both been brought back to the castle after consuming a bit too much but that was the extent he knew of the situation. He'd heard the word 'drug' slipped into the conversation, but he hadn't been outright told, he'd just assumed they were referring to the tea incident.
If they didn't part ways at any point, then he was replaced while in Arn's company and he would have noticed that immediately.
There were only two logical explanations in his mind.
Either Arn had planned the switch or he'd been swapped as well.
Regardless of that, he only had two priorities: Find Zelda or find the imposter, but he had a feeling they'd find them together. Slowly, as if wading through molasses, Barnabus pulled his arms under him and began to push himself upright.
"Easy now, Captain," a soldier said, jogging over to him. He helped Barnabus roll onto his back.
With all his strength, Barnabus reached up and grabbed the soldier by the collar, pulling them face-to-face. The soldier, whose name was Kolli, looked taken aback.
Barnabus stared at the soldier and rasped, "Arrest Captain Arn. Now. "
Wildberry pie. So many things he could feel about the perfectly sweet and tart treat, but so few words to convey it.
Today was a perfect day to simply enjoy that little piece of pie on the backyard veranda of his Castletown home.
Madeleine had made a stop at a nearby bakery with Aryll and Sota and had grabbed the thing off a whim. She couldn't bake 'em to save her life, but damn could she choose the best one of the line up.
Sota was currently in the grass trying to teach Arina how to walk by making her stand on his feet, but his attempts seemed fruitless as the little toddler only leant forward with the loudest giggle possible. Meanwhile, Aryll was seated next to him on the veranda's rocking chair, eating a piece of the pie much larger than his own.
"Can one of you get up and help me with the laundry?" He heard his wife call out from around the corner. She sounded as though she was going to be mad if she asked again.
He glanced at Aryll quietly only to see her shove a rather large bite of pie into her mouth, then point to her mouth and shake her head. "Busy." she muttered with her mouth full.
Disgusting. "Coming." Fredrick shouted back, discarding his piece of pie onto the small coffee table next to his chair. He pointed a glare at Aryll. "That better still be there."
Aryll simply nodded with a forced smile.
He resigned himself to the fact that the piece of pie would definitely be gone by the time he got back, and he would definitely hear "the plate's still there like you said" coming from Aryll.
He'd barely taken a step down the wooden stairs before they heard a hard pounding on the front door. Aryll struggled to swallow the pie in her mouth as she stood up and rushed through the house to grab the door as he made his way to the laundry line.
"DAD!" He nearly jumped out of his skin at the sound of Aryll shouting through the house.
He exchanged a glance with his wife, one that told him to shoo and take care of whatever had Aryll in hysterics this time.
He was surprised to be met with Elise, twitchy, eyes red, breathing heavy and with what looked like a butcher's cleaver hidden in her apron. He was wondering what exactly could have happened to have her here of all places when Arn was home with her.
Maybe he's gone day-drinking again. Their house was closer than Arn's usual bar was.
"Elise, what a surprise." He tried to greet her warmly despite her anxious state. "Did you want something to drink?" he offered, unsure of what to say.
To see her in such a panicked state was certainly something new. The last time Fredrick remembered seeing Elise this panicked was when she had thought her youngest had gone missing—in truth, Sabrina had gone with Link to the market and had forgotten about the time many, many years ago.
"I'll uh… let you handle this." Aryll scratched the back of her head and retreated to the backyard where she would inevitably be roped into helping with the laundry.
Ah hells, why am I bothering with small talk? Fredrick poured a cup of water and set it next to Elise, who wordlessly thanked him then began pacing a trail into the carpet. "What happened?" He cut straight to the point.
And thus began the rambling.
Fredrick took a seat.
"Arn came home last night, he was pretty tired and it was midnight. He came by with one of Link's buddies, another captain, I think his name is Barry?" She began, forgetting to take a breath once and a while. "It was so late, he's been avoiding the house, you know? Sabrina wanted to show him something yesterday at the castle but he was too busy to come see her."
Why didn't I bring that piece of pie with me? Her ramblings were derailed numerous times, her earlier words quickly becoming lost in the tangles of random, useless information. None of it told him why she was here with a cleaver in her pocket.
"—I saved dinner for him every night and only last night, he finally gets dragged home!" Mid-ramble, she finally pulled the cleaver out of her pocket and began waving it around casually.
Rather than look at Elise now and focus on her words, he could only stare at the cleaver as it made arcs and waves around in the air menacingly.
Who gave Elise a cleaver?
"—And he promised he would take Sabrina out to the markets this morning and he never went."
"How dare he?" Fredrick added monotonously. Get to the point please.
"I know!" Elise waved the cleaver at him. "He didn't even make his buttermilk pancakes!"
Those are some good pancakes. Fredrick recoiled back from the cleaver and lowered it with a hesitant hand.
"Ah, so you're here gossiping instead of helping me." He heard Madeleine comment dryly as she came back into the house, the empty laundry basket tucked under one arm. She rolled her eyes at him and turned to Elise. "To what do we owe this visit, Elisabeth?" She inquired, mildly irritated. "I would appreciate you not waving a cleaver in my dining room, please."
Elise looked at the cleaver in her hands and awkwardly put it back in her pocket with an apology. "Sorry Maddie, got taken away." She excused herself. "I need to borrow Freddie over here." She immediately changed the subject.
"Why can't Sir Arn help with this matter instead?"
Elise frowned almost as if she was unsure of what to say. "Well, it has to do with Arn."
"So why are you here?"
Elise fidgeted nervously and looked out the window onto the street. "There's something wrong with Arn," she specified. "I didn't know who else to go to." She admitted.
His interest was piqued now. Something wrong with Arn? That was a peculiar way of putting it.
Madeleine exhaled loudly. "Something's wrong with him? Send him to a doctor."
"Not in that way. Not medically wrong with him." Elise specified, her eyes pleading with them both. "It's how he's acting."
How he's acting? He wondered what that could mean specifically.
"Elaborate on that for me?" He inquired. He needed more details. He hadn't seen Arn in the last few days, but the last time he'd seen him, he was drugged up.
"Arn is acting weird. And—and our bond… He's never shut me out like this before."
And there's the waterworks.
He watched his wife reluctantly throw the empty basket to the side and awkwardly open her arms for Elise, who immediately went in for the hug. Fredrick almost felt bad for his wife, whose face was screaming "I hate it here" but she was giving in to the hug nonetheless.
The longer the hug went on, the more he was impressed. Damn, twenty seconds. That's quite the hug for you.
"That… That's enough…" Madeleine tried to separate herself from the tight embrace but seemed to fail. She shot him silent pleas with her eyes the more she clung.
"Alright Elise, don't drain her of everything she's got." Fredrick tapped Elise on the arm to pull her off.
Elise nodded and wiped her eyes. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be like this. It's just with Arn like this, I'm stressed. He's never been like this." She explained as she grabbed the handkerchief Madeleine was offering her. "He's acting like a completely different person."
"He's acting like a completely different person."
That was a dead ringer for an accusation of an impersonation. Does Elise even know of the Yiga? Does Arn tell her that stuff? With his behaviour being so different and those words, it made him want to go check things out for himself.
"Would you say it's just not him?" He tried to gauge her response or reaction.
Elise thought for a moment and nodded. "He looks like Arn, but it's not him, or I don't think so anyway. I've never known him to be like this."
"How do you know it isn't Arn?" He asked the crying woman. He'd assume it isn't Arn from then on, just to be on the safe side.
"I just do!" Elise exclaimed. The woman was hyperventilating and trying to breath through sniffles. "He tracked mud into my house!"
He held back his reaction or any words to prod more. Tracking mud into the house was hardly something to accuse someone of being an imposter for.
"Perhaps it's a lapse of judgement? You know he's getting up there in age," Madeleine told her.
Elise immediately wiped her tears and glared down at his wife. "The last time he tracked mud in three years ago, that man slept outside in a thunderstorm." she snapped.
Yikes.
Elise turned to him, pleading in her eyes. "Freddie, you have to believe me! That may look like my husband but it's not him!"
He took a glance at his wife and she looked annoyed and ready to retire for the day. She'd never liked loud noises, crying, or anything of the sort. "Do you have any other proof? Anything?"
It wasn't that he didn't believe her, but he couldn't just hear 'Arn' and 'Imposter' and immediately run with it. If it was true, he'd have to take care of the issue immediately. He couldn't give him an opportunity to run.
"L—last night, I wasn't sure, he was giving me weird feelings, and I didn't know who to tell, and I don't think Rina noticed but I couldn't ask-"
"You're rambling again." He cut her off. He didn't need her derailing the conversation again if they were seriously talking about a possible imposter.
"I—I'm sorry," She tried to apologise frantically. She wiped her tears and looked around at the door. "I didn't think it was a good idea to ask while he was there, you know, but last night I slept in the guest room."
"Ok and?" Madeleine asked.
"He didn't ask me to come back to bed! He didn't ask what was wrong or anything! He just says 'tell me if you need anything' and he just goes to bed!" The woman explained, her sentence rushed and nearly moulding into a single word.
"I'm not in the habit of knowing your bedroom habits. Please, can you tell me anything I might be able to confirm?" He hoped she wouldn't say anything else that was too vague for him to pinpoint.
"I have been married to that man for thirty one years. I'm telling you, that is not my husband!" She pleaded with him. "I don't know how, I don't know why, but that isn't him!"
31 years of marriage to someone as open as Arn was definitely something. He wasn't in the habit of changing his behaviour patterns or lying that often, but he didn't want to get her hopes up either.
"Listen, I'll go over and talk to him and see for myself," he told her.
"You believe me, don't you? Or do you think I'm crazy? That I've finally gone off the deep end and hear voices in the wells?"
"No, no, I didn't say that," He cut her off. "I believe you, sit down. Go have some tea— Aryll!" He practically had to push Elise down into a chair to get her to calm down as Aryll took over the situation.
Regularly, he probably wouldn't have taken the accusation so close to heart. Arn, replaced by a member of the Yiga Clan. It sounded ridiculous, especially coming from Elise. Sweet woman she was, but she was always quick to jump to her own conclusions, but that was the thing.
Elise clearly didn't know of the Yiga, Arn had never mentioned them to her and yet, she still thought he'd been replaced in some way. So many alarms yet that was a conclusion she shouldn't have come to unless she was convinced.
He's not the one who's been sleeping next to the man for thirty years, she was. She knew him far better than he ever could.
Even if it sounded ridiculous, he couldn't leave that suspicion hanging in the air like that. He'd feel far too guilty if he left Elise and her daughter defenceless against someone who may be an assassin.
Fredrick let himself slip into a casual walk as he approached Arn's house. The side-yard was neat and tidy as always. A laundry line, laden with the afternoon's washing, was hanging out in the sun.
Arn sat on the porch with a glass of something dark, reading the paper.
"Arn!" Fredrick exclaimed with feigned happiness. "How are you feeling?"
He couldn't smell a drop of alcohol on the man which rang the biggest bells in his mind. Arn was a day drinker and it was well past noon. He should have smelled something from his flask, but Fredrick couldn't detect anything from the distance he was at.
'Arn' reacted as he would have, a joyous big wave. He was out of uniform, a small glass on the table next to his chair on the patio. He gave off the impression of the real one too well, down to the way he kept himself half leant on the chair's left arm and ankles crossed, but extended out.
"I'm feeling much better!" The man said, tone nearly identical to Arn's.
That's not him. No matter what he sounds like, it's not him. He couldn't let slip that he knew or the Yiga would simply escape with whatever information he'd gathered.
He pulled out the incense stick he'd been hiding in his pocket. "You told me you'd come with me to the perfumier this afternoon."
"Can't do it yourself anymore?" He joked back.
It confirmed his suspicion immediately.
He looked away from the wind's direction and spotted Sabrina in the window on the second floor above. She was shaking her head and pointing at 'Arn'. "You know my nose isn't what it used to be, and you know Maddie has too much trouble with perfumes and scented oils. Did you forget about her breathing problems?" He lied.
He had no problem with his sense of smell, and his wife's, while being worse than his, she didn't have any problems either. His wife was a certified bloodhound who could detect a woman's perfume from a mile away and quite frankly, it terrified him sometimes.
'Arn' feigned boredom and exasperation, but he stood up nonetheless in the same way. "You need to do it yourself these days," He grabbed the walking stick that was next to the chair and used it to descend the stairs. "Give it here."
"But you were so clumsy with it last time, I think I'll hold it." He let the stick hang from his hands. It was elevated in a way to have the imposter take a smell.
Fredrick eyed the street. There was no one around right now, people were starting to make dinner soon, and the wind in the air was uncomfortably chilled and active. Not many would be out at the moment.
The moment 'Arn' leant to take a whiff of the short incense stick, the wind blew and he let the stick drop as though the wind had taken it from his hands. 'Arn' laughed. "And you called me clumsy." He bent the knee to pick it up, and Fredrick took the opportunity to pull out a small concealed pocket knife from his pocket.
He grabbed the imposter by the back of the head, hand gripping his hair so tightly he easily could've pulled it out, he pulled him towards him and plunged the knife into his side. The hand that had grabbed his hair moved to cover the man's mouth and Fredrick made quick work of discreetly going through the gated fence next to the home, dragging the Yiga with him.
He could smell the Sheikah magic going rampant around the man's body and he made quick work of throwing him to the ground, face into the dirt and he pulled the knife from his side and sliced at the neck in a quick move.
His suspicions were confirmed again when the imposter poofed from Arn's body to the lifeless body of some Yiga clan member, unitard and all.
Fredrick stood up and flicked the blood from his hands into the grass, but his eyes stayed strained on the body on the ground, the blood flowing freely into the grass. He'd have to tell Elise not to come into her backyard until they cleaned that up.
Fredrick took a step back and cursed at the blood on his clothes. It was far too obvious he'd stabbed someone. "I have to be more careful about this shit." he muttered to himself as he grabbed a cloth from the laundry line. The fucker hadn't even put up a fight.
"I'm telling you, that man isn't my husband!" Elise shouted through tears.
'Arn' had only been home for one night and he'd been found out by his wife and his daughter.
How did they get switched?
"We found them in a ditch on the other side of town."
They were on the wrong side of town when they got drunk that night, over an hour away from the pub by foot.
"Oh please, he had a glass of wine! Just one!" Elise had shouted at them. "He's never like this when he drinks."
I'm an idiot. So many indicators and alarm bells and he'd ignored them. The walk to the pub was barely ten minutes, they had no business on the south side of town in a ditch, and even drunk, Arn had never gone so far off course.
And if that had truly been the moment they were swapped with the Yiga then…
His head whipped to the castle.
Link. Link hadn't been drunk that night, he'd been drugged but made to look drunk.
He'd been brought back to the castle.
Link was at the castle as of the last two days.
Zelda.
"Uncle, where's dad?" He heard a quivering voice behind him. Arn's daughter was in the doorway and still pale, but she wasn't shaking anymore.
He didn't know where Arn was. He couldn't comfort the girl at all.
"Run to my house, and don't leave your mother's side." He ordered as he grabbed a sheet from the clothing line and threw it over the corpse. At least Elise had that cleaver…
The girl nodded. "Where are you going?" She was rushing to put her shoes on, but clearly, she was still shaken as her hands trembled again.
He shrugged. "I have to go get changed first." He was just going to throw a cloak over the blood stains and head straight for the castle. Why would he waste time getting changed when he had to go find his 'son'?
Zelda sat in her study, scowling at the mess of threads and frames in her hands. She had been attempting to embroider a silent princess onto what was supposed to be a baby blanket. However, all of her stitches looked wrong no matter how many times she redid them. And now the holes from her previous attempts were becoming noticeable. She glared at the embroidery, then back to the photographic encyclopaedia that lay open on her desk. It did not help that the picture was at such an odd angle, nor that the flower's petals were curved.
She sighed. Truthfully, she loved the flower, but her inability to accurately capture it on cloth felt like yet another reminder of her bushel of failures. She hadn't practised embroidery much since her mother died and apart from the creation of the Champions' garments. But noble mothers, and certainly royal mothers, were supposed to make pretty things for their babies, were they not? They had more leisure time than working-class women. And none of the Champions' garments had had something as ridiculously complex as a Silent Princess. All of their emblems had been neatly geometric.
Zelda huffed as her latest stitch went awry, and once again picked up her seam ripper.
The door swung open and shut.
"Zelda," Link panted, sounding out of breath.
"Already done sparring?" Zelda asked, tearing out the threads impatiently. "You're usually occupied with Barnabus for—" Zelda turned to look at Link with a smile, but screamed the moment her eyes fell on his torso.
"You're covered in blood!" She exclaimed, jumping out of her seat and rushing over. "What happened?" She couldn't see any wounds on him, but there was a strange discolouration on his forehead and part of his nose. He must've taken a hit to the face then.
"Sparring with Barns." He told her nonchalantly. "You know how that gets sometimes."
Zelda's heart refused to calm down. There was a lot of blood and it made her stomach churn. It was typically a few drops, maybe a splatter at worse, but this was… a lot.
The scents emanating filled her nose even when she tried to block it out—Why did she recognise so many scents emanating from him at once? It was dizzying, as if she was being forced to smell multiple perfumes at the same time.
"Let's go get you cleaned up." She pushed him towards the doorway. Should she bring him to the infirmary first?
Link didn't budge when she tried to push him to the hallway. "I feel fine, really." He told her. She could hear steps and commotion out in the hall, but her focus was on the blood in the room. She didn't want him to be injured.
She didn't look at him, the blood was nauseating to look at, but instead made her way to the hallway to call for a maid. "Let me get you a rag at leas…t." Her lunch threatened to come up at the sight she was met with.
There was a dead royal guard outside the room, she thinks his name was Sir Samuel but why was he dead? His hand was on a dagger and arm was outstretched towards the room, but instead, her eyes pulled to a sickle planted in his back.
What… Whistles began blowing from every direction and the bells soon tolled and echoed through the halls.
"Pri—Mmph!" She heard a muffled shout come from down the hall along with rushed steps. Her eyes landed on Dame Caya and Sir Balar who were pinned to the ground by familiar red uniforms and the sinister cackles. The two were bound and gagged and clearly outnumbered, but they'd managed to spit out their gags.
She heard another guard shout. "Run!"
Before she could even take a step away, she felt a painful tug on the back of her hair and she was pulled back into the room with a shriek.
"You're far too trusting, Dear ." She heard Link whisper into her ear, a sinister cackle.
No, this wasn't Link. Her gut had been right and she'd ignored it. She'd been duped by an imposter and she was going to die.
His grip released from her hair and moved to restrict her neck. His arm tightened around her neck and Zelda coughed painfully. He had her facing the hallway as more guards could be heard coming towards the room. The Imposter held the knife to her jaw and tapped the knife against her skin.
"Have both of them accompany you."
I let myself be alone. I'm such an idiot. She chastised herself. Such a simple piece of advice and she'd ignored it.
"Princess!" She heard shouting in the hall before recognising one of the guard captains as he came into view of the open doorway. Sword in hand, the captain halted at the doorway at the sight of the Princess at knife-point. It didn't take long before he was joined by other guards, all weapons brandished.
"Isn't she adorable, boys?" The imposter kept Link's voice intact, but it had a malicious tone to it as he cooed in her ear. "Not another step if you value her life."
Where was Captain Reinhartd? If this imposter had been sparring with him, then where was he now?
The blood. That had to have been partially the Captain's then. He'd have blown the alarm as soon as he'd have figured out Link had been replaced… But he was here when the alarms started ringing.
The imagery of the captain dead in a pool of his own blood flashed before her mind and she felt tears prickle her eyes. He couldn't have.
She locked eyes with the captain before her; he was panicked, but clearly trying to assess the situation as he silently signalled her not to move or agitate the imposter who held her at knife-point.
"Look at our audience, Your Highness." She tried to block out Link's voice, it wasn't him, but it hurt even more. The assassin's arm moved from her neck to hold her jaw painfully in his hand, moving her face slowly as if examining her like a sick researcher. "I can see why he likes you so much," he continued with Link's voice. "You speak so sweetly about your interests." He moved her face closer and almost seemed to tease her with the knife.
Zelda struggled against the force of his hands. "Let me go." She choked out. "You don't know anything about me."
He tapped the knife against her cheek before pulling it away with a chuckle. "Oh I've been around longer than you could imagine, Sweetheart." He whispered. "I've been everywhere thanks to the both of you. You desire so much privacy yet I've seen so much from the two of you."
Everywhere? How could he have seen so much and never been detected? Was he impersonating other people? Impa had been impersonated a few months back, one of the knight's had been impersonated, but she didn't know more than that.
"Since you'll kill me anyway, why don't you tell me how?" She pushed for him to talk. She continued to hold the gaze of the captain, who was ever so lightly moving into the room, the smallest slide of his feet against the stone ground.
"I might as well since you've been so good to me, Princess. " He squeezed her jaw. She was sure she'd have a mark for a few days. "I've been your beloved Lady Impa twice— goodness, do I ever hate pretending to be Sheikah. I've been a traveller, other attendants around this blasted castle, knights, royal guards, I even impersonated your father for the fun of it." He laughed sinisterly in her ear. "You've both brought me up Death Mountain, to Zora's Domain, to Faron and that adorable little pond."
Zelda felt her blood run cold. Traveller… A traveller at Lover's Pond had seen them. Royal guards, Knights, he'd been Sir Thompson months ago.
He's been following us for almost six months now?! "You're lying." She spat at him without thinking.
She immediately felt him shift and something sharp pointed at her belly. "You sure have gotten brave, haven't you?" He pushed the knife enough for her to feel the sharpness through her dress.
She watched the captain and the guards freeze. She could feel their fear grapple them as it did her.
"Maybe I'll spare you out of the two," he whispered near her ear. "I wonder what your precious hero would think when he sees your stomach carved out."
What?
"Maybe I'll carve out that baby and send it to his cell as a present, I would love to see that look in his eyes. You think I'll finally get to see him feral?"
Link was alive. She knew he wasn't dead, but the confirmation gave her hope, but it was quickly evaporating with every push of the knife against her. Her bond felt the same as it usually did. He wasn't anywhere near them then.
His hand finally let go of her chin, but before she could move away, his arm returned to her neck and held her tightly. She attempted to pull his arm away, but he was far stronger than she was, his arm didn't budge one bit.
"Please don't..." She choked out, gasping for air as his arm tightened. She looked at his arm for a moment. Skin. She could see skin, uncovered by fabric rolled up to the elbow.
Skin.
She could move her head a bit more this time. She could see his entire forearm.
"Watch when you bite, your teeth are sharp." Link had once joked with her after one of their trysts.
If she'd done that by accident…
The Captain expected a few things to happen, but the Princess falling into an almost trance-like state wasn't one of them.
Captain Randy nearly dropped his sword in shock when Princess Zelda took the strongest bite into the would-be Hero's arm.
The man screamed and dropped his knife almost instantaneously, but she didn't let go, only going down harder until they could see a strong trail of blood.
He was horrified at the sheer amount of blood spraying on the floor.
He and the guards didn't pay attention to the obscenities the assassin was screaming that ranged from "psycho bitch" to "feral motherfucker" but either way, it was quite obviously appropriate for the situation.
He moved into the room and hit the knife away with his sword, but had to swivel out of the way as the Princess let him go and gripped her encyclopaedia from the table and swung hard.
He physically recoiled at the audible crack the large book made when it connected to the imposter's face.
The Princess seemed to move faster than usual, her reaction time impeccable as she reached to the ground and lunged for the knife he'd hit away.
I almost don't want to jump into that. Randy felt as though he might accidentally become a victim of the fighting. He sighted the bite wound on the imposter's arm and felt his stomach lurch; there was a large gash, freely bleeding.
"I'm gonna have so many nightmares." He heard a guard next to him mutter as they watched the Imposter dodge the incoming knife swipe.
Zelda lunged again, bloody teeth bared.
Then he vanished in a small puff of red smoke, only to reappear behind the guards, coughing and swearing profanities before disappearing again, this time as a Yiga footman.
The wards on the castle. He won't be able to leave like that. The bells were still echoing through the halls, the threat not yet neutralised. They wouldn't stop until they told them to stop.
"Block the exits!" He shouted. "No one leaves this castle!"
Where the hell is Barnabus?! He should have been here ages ago…
Randy approached the princess, who was breathing heavily. Scarlet blood drenched the front of her dress, the scent heavy and thick in the air. Her eyes were dilated and her face was still screwed up in a snarl.
"Princess, he's gone," Randy said.
Princess Zelda did not reply, but allowed Randy to gently slide the knife from her hand. That hand moved to her belly, her arms wrapping around herself.
"We'll get him," Randy said.
Link continued to casually rattle his chain, pulling it ever so briefly before tugging again. His arms had long since gone numb, prickling from the poor blood circulation, but anything to keep slowly chipping away at the wall's resistance. His back and shoulders were covered in the dust and small rocks falling from where his shackles were bolted to the stone, and he was sure there was sand in his hair but he didn't care.
He had to get out. He had to get back to Zelda.
I only need one thumb to wield the Master Sword…
He quietly watched Arn try to pick the lock to their cell door with a small hairpin from Link's hair they'd forgotten to confiscate, but Link had been watching Arn try for the last ten or so minutes—he guessed anyway, he had no real way to tell time in this damn cell.
Every so often, Arn looked down the two sides of the hall to ensure no Yiga guards came down or witnessed them trying to break out. Once, he'd nearly caught Arn at it, but he'd quickly come up with an excuse befitting their situation.
"I threw a nicely shaped rock too far. I'm trying to reach it." Arn had told them solemnly, feigning frustration as he pointed to a rock not too far away from the cell wall.
The Yiga had laughed and picked it up and flicked it back at them before walking away, cackling and mumbling things in the Sheikah language.
"Making any progress?" Link whispered, his tone flat and bored. He was starting to wonder if Arn even knew how to pick a lock or if this lock was simply too complicated.
Arn shot him a look. "Are you making any progress?" He nudged his head in the direction of the chain.
"Fine, I'll shut up." Link grumbled. He continued dangling and yanking on his chain knowing there was nothing else he could do to pass the time. It'd been a while since they'd been thrown their generous one banana to share, and they'd changed the torches not long ago. From where he sat, the bars seemed to be roughly eight inches across so just wide enough for their heads not to fit through the bars, but if they did, they'd get stuck no doubt.
Link tried to yank on the chain in a more circular motion this time, trying to make the hole in the wall bigger. As soon as he could pull this damn chain out, he was going to weaponise it. There was no way a chain of this strength couldn't be used in a more violent manner.
Oh he was going to get the ones who'd thrown him in here and he was going to kill them the moment he got his hands on them.
He suddenly felt intense anger. His heart rate jumped and he started sweating. There was a strange sudden blood thirstiness that began to take root in his stomach. He tugged harder and harder on the chain, the rocks around it cracking and falling down.
He wanted to bite something. He could practically taste it.
Arn chanced a glance at him, his face turning a bit pale as he hurried with the pin and the lock.
"Calm down please," Arn muttered, glancing sideways at him occasionally. "Scaring me over here." Eventually, he threw his arms up into the air and pulled the hairpin back, slipping it into the underside of his hair and out of sight.
Link bit the inside of his cheek and tried to stand, wrapping his hands around the chains as best he could and bracing a foot against the wall and began to pull.
Arn stared wide-eyed at him, keeping his distance in the corner as Link pulled and pulled. He could hear the loud cracks and chain buckling.
Feeling his lungs begin to burn, Link stopped pulling for a moment and took a few deep breaths and braced himself against the wall once more, readying himself to pull.
"What's gotten into you?" Arn asked, fear clear in his tone.
Link couldn't answer that question truthfully. He didn't know, but he did know he was angry. If he could channel that into pulling himself free, perfect. If it was useless, then he'd wasted that energy away for nothing. He knew he'd done something, for the metal plate that secured his shackles to the wall was now loose and rickety against the wall.
"Did you want he—" Arn started.
"Shut the fuck up." Link snapped and he pulled again with all his strength.
"K, Sorry." Arn apologised immediately and hugged his knees in a ball.
It hadn't worked as well as Link had hoped.
It had clearly done something, but rip his chains out wasn't one of them, but he'd been granted for space to move, and the plate had been loosened enough for Link to be able to bring his arm below his shoulders, albeit he was stuck in an awkward position when doing so, but it brought strength and blood flow back into arms.
He'd given pretty quickly. He was left sweating intensely, his throat dry from heaving the dusty air, and his arms sore from pulling. He could really use a good dozen of those bananas now.
During a moment of relative peace, there was then a cacophony of shouting, screaming, panic, and the clanging of blades echoing through the rough walls of the hideout.
"What's going on?" Link leaned off the wall, attentive to all the loud voices echoing through the walls. That metal clanging was new and close.
Arn was trying his best to see into the hall, but strained against the metal bars. "I can't see anything." Arn told him, still trying to fit his head through the bars somehow even if he'd failed countless times to do so.
Link thought. In all their time here, with all the changing of the torches and the guards' scheduled rounds, they'd had to have been there a few days by now. Not once did they hear this sort of commotion or anything close to it. Their sparring was typically followed by the quietest echo of metal clanging, then the laughter and well-meaning teases, but it hadn't been chaotic and frantic orders.
"Someone must've infiltrated the hideout." Link concluded. Why else would the Yiga be in such a state of panic? "Can you smell who it might be?"
Arn tried but shook his head. "Too dusty. But I can smell blood."
Link could smell the metallic tang in the air mixing with the dusty sands. Just who had infiltrated the hideout? Was it Urbosa? They were in the desert or the Gerudo Highlands so it made sense it could be her, but he didn't hear any Gerudo within the shouts as he usually did in her training grounds, and he couldn't hear any lightning strikes. Can't be her then. She wasn't dumb, she wouldn't come alone to a place like this.
"Can you smell anything distinct?" Link asked. He started tugging on his chains more frantically. If he could just break them off the wall, he could then work into the cell's bars and leave that way, but he had to work the chain first. "Or how many people?"
"I really can't tell much from here, but I do know whoever they are, they're causing a right ruckus out there." Arn said, a dark chuckle leaving him.