You can find more of this on by Subscribe/Star (dot adult slash KajaWilder), it's posted past Ch. 110 there. You can find the same on my new (via Discord per their ToS), under /WildErotica. The DISCORD is at h-t_t-p_s-:_/-/_discord-._g-g_/-N9yDASt6Cw (taking out hyphens and underscores, 'cause FFnet). If you prefer direct links, go to my Discord and follow the 'links in general' section to find the ones you want. All of my fics are well ahead of what I post here, often 10-30 chapters ahead.

You can also read my original fiction on Kindle, or Kindle Unlimited for free. My author page: www ._amazon ._com / stores / Kaja-Wilder/ (this time taking out underscores and spaces, but leave the one hyphen).

Enjoy!

NOTE: To the person who keeps leaving unsigned guest reviews quoting scripture at me? Stop. Thanks. I heard you the first thirty times (not even kidding, it's well over that). If I'm going to hell for writing it, you're going to hell for reading it. Or even just skimming to the bottom to review.

Chap. 89: Stability

Owlan Bridge itself, Zelda decided as she stepped up onto the first of the wooden planks, was in terrible shape. Stable, probably, but not doing well. Either end and the two central pillars that supported it were made from stones packed with dirt and minimal amounts of mortar, which were mostly held in place by their own weight and the much lighter bridge above them.

The wooden support columns that affixed the planks and crossbeams of the bridge were thick still, but had been burned, beaten, scarred, and hacked away at by untold numbers of weapon blows, and worse.

The planks that made up the actual surface were in worse shape, as if one of the cyclopean giant Hinoxes had made it a personal mission to smash the bridge to pieces before growing bored a dozen swings in. In no fewer than a dozen places Zelda could see just from the east side of the two hundred foot long structure, where the planks had been not just broken and weathered by time, but crushed actively, with some thicker splinters and shards sticking upward still.

But Nightmare seemed sure enough, so Zelda dismounted, and started leading her increasingly loyal steed across, doing her best to watch for weak spots, and definitely steering him around the more broken areas.

The hollow-sounding thuds of his horseshoes on the weathered, birdshite-stained wood echoed loudly even over the rushing water, which splashed against the stone supports and gurgled together again on the other side, flowing from her right to her left.

Then Zelda stopped cold half-way across the bridge.

Exposed, in plain sight, less than a half-mile from not just one, and another two miles but still in plain view of two Bokoblin camps.

To her right was a hill capped by a broken-off stump, and a few trees on the hill's lower, southern face might give her some cover if she made a break for it, but Zelda did not know if Nightmare could even sneak, much less do so in sight of at least a half-dozen watchful Bokoblins. It was daylight, after all, and they were all awake as far as she could see.

Beyond that rise was the stable itself, the pillar of smoke and upper crown of the horse-headed yurt just visible beyond. Could maybe make a break for it, I don't think this nearer lot has any horses. But… that camp is very close to the road. They threaten the travelers a great deal, and the other is close to Proxim, which is miles downriver. I should at least weaken their number if I can.

Somehow, Zelda was able to lead Nightmare without the Bokoblins noticing, beyond the bridge and right into the long, thin strip of trees that circled the rise and separated it from the worn dirt road, which still had faint signs of flagstones that had once lined it, but been broken or buried over time.

Once he was situated safely near the top, Zelda turned her attention briefly to a trio of arrows in trade for a Korok seed, told Nightmare to stay there or go to the stable, where she could see other horses from here, and left him behind for a while to head south.

South, to a familiar camp.

One she barely remembered, but that she did, in fact, recall from a light-night, exhausting run through storm and danger, chasing an elusive, golden warmth that…

Zelda shuddered, suddenly very cognizant of the star fragments in her satchel, left mostly untouched since that same night. This was the very camp she'd run through, heedless of the danger, chasing the fallen stars, before she had run head-long into the most terrifying thing she'd ever seen, except perhaps the Lynel beyond the Lanayru Promenade: a Guardian Stalker.

Now, though, it was broad daylight, and no Guardians could be seen except the distant husk on the spit of land where the rivers joined, little more than a dark speck near the horizon from here.

Then closer, closer she crept, glad the Sheikah armor was so good at what it did, from tree to bush to tree again. Down the hill, to the very edge of the road, where shade was granted in copious amounts by a large sycamore that Zelda climbed carefully, doing her best to stay on the north side, or the two times branches required her to slip into visibility, to hug the trunk as best she could, before finding her way into the bole of the tree itself.

Perfect. Somehow, she had a good gap through the leaves to see most of the camp. The watchtower was out of sight even if she moved her head, hidden by more distant branches and further trees on the south side of the road. But from her current vantage, Zelda had an almost perfect view of the small bowl where the camp lay. A fire-spit turned a leg of boar, or maybe horse to the left. Another magically-locked chest rested on a short tower, and she had already seen one watchtower with a Bokoblin upon it.

And in the center, around another fire, five more Bokoblins, all red, laughed and argued and occasionally traded more-or-less playful punches, with a makeshift rack of crude weapons to the side, leaning against a fallen log.

Crude weapons, yes, but Zelda reminded herself how much even simple wooden clubs, or larger ones, hurt, and how much damage they could do if she allowed herself to grow careless. And that watcher will have a bow, too. I couldn't see what type, but it might be dangerous- I know camps trade between themselves, now.

Finally, a small pile of crates and barrels, three to five of each, sat on the south side of the camp, toward a scant foot-trail that seemed to lead over the hills and grassland toward the camp nearer Proxim Bridge.

As she watched, the Bokoblins' behavior continued, with no sign of changing watches or anything like that. There were no travelers either, which she thought was a bit odd considering the proximity to the Stable.

Then again, the people probably know too well about this camp now, and just avoid this road. It would explain the disrepair. The other camp too, now that I think of it. That's two major camps near the road within a few miles of each other.

"But I can thin the herd a bit," she whispered, and pulled out the Phrenic Bow before stringing it carefully. She wasn't too worried, at this distance, about being seen, especially hidden within the tree, but she didn't want to take any chances, either. "Is it worth using one of my Bomb arrows? I can probably take out or injure at least those five all at once. That would make the camp almost trivial… for now. But I only have nine, and they are hard to come by. Hmm…"

After a few seconds of deliberation, her thin fingers traced across one of the ruby-tipped, enchanted arrows. And Zelda smiled, "Then again, I do enjoy watching the little fuckers burn, and I have over forty of these. The explosion is weak in comparison, but…"

Too weak, it turned out. Zelda's Fire Arrow slashed through the air with a streak of flames, almost Guardian-beam straight, and buried itself feather-deep into the neck and shoulder of the nearest Bokoblin, who burst into flames as well, without even a shriek- it was already dead.

But the small burst did not ignite any others.

Instead, the remaining four Bokoblins shouted and turned toward their fallen comrade's smoking remains, which were starting to vanish, and began to point accusing fingers at each other, and at the surrounding hills and trees. None directly at her, or her tree, but she could hear the watcher shouting something over the others, too.

Had he seen the direction her arrow had come from?

"Doesn't matter if he did," Zelda whispered to herself, and reached into her quiver for another arrow, one of her standard spade-tipped ones.

Another Bokoblin's brain was speared by the second shaft while he jabbered down at the smoking, dissolving corpse of the first.

This time, one of the red-skinned beasts looked up at her, straight at her. Zelda could not be sure, but she thought she saw its cruel eyes narrow. "You're next, then."

Just as his hand came up to point in her direction, a cry on his lips, the Bokoblin sprouted a feathered flower from his left nostril, and pitched backward onto the ground.

She forced herself to exhale, and remain calm, even as the remaining Bokoblins panicked. Two ran for their weapons, and the third just ran, sprinting toward the bridge of all places. Possibly to go for help. Help that, she knew, would not be coming: She'd killed every Bokoblin she had seen in the area. "Three for three. Let's keep it up."

Unfortunately, it was not to be. The Bokoblins seemed to have cottoned on to where she was firing from, at least loosely, and both of the remainders on the ground ran toward her, up the hillside out of the bowl and onto the road, heading toward her, while an arrow smashed into a tree a few feet beyond the sycamore's canopy.

Fighting down the urge to yelp, Zelda swallowed once more, and loosed.

A thigh-shot, the fourth Bokoblin started limping immediately, but reached down with a snarl to snap the shaft in half, and kept going.

The next brought it down, burbling and bleeding from an arrow in its throat.

Then the last was there, below her tree, with a massive club in one hand, and a stone in the other. "Got you," he snarled, and threw.

Zelda twisted out of the way, just missing the stone as it bounced off one branch and skewed toward her even closer than the Bokoblin's original throw. Twisted too far, slipped, lost her balance, and then she was falling, spinning.

Pain blossomed in her left thigh, right arm, and then ribs and back as she hit one branch, a second, and the ground.

"Clumsy-climsy-clumpy," the Bokoblin laughed, pointing at her derisively.

Zelda grunted, rolled to her feet, fighting past the pain. "Nothing broken," she whispered, "Just bruised. Laugh all you want, dead-meat."

The Bokoblin blinked, confused, as pushed upright, the long-fallen knight's familiar blade in her hand. "How you know Dedmeet name?"

Her only answer was a sweep of the blade that carved a line of red from above the Bokoblin's left brow to just below the pelvis on his right thigh. Blood sprayed, and Zelda spun again, wincing in pain this time as she twisted her bruised ribs to land on her injured leg, but thankfully stayed clear this time.

"One left."

The Bokoblin was gone when she reached the camp.

Its weapon abandoned, though the arrows were taken with it, and the distant bob of a shape in the tall grass further south told her it had gone for help, or maybe just fled, too.

It, however, was still several minutes at least from getting that help. "I should move fast, then."

Two Remote Bombs shattered the barrels and crates, though it sent much of the contents flying or damaged them beyond repair. It wasn't much, but it wasn't nothing, either. Nine apples, a brace of roasted fish, likely fresh from the river when they were cooked, a few hands full of arrows that brought her supply back over a hundred (which felt much better than less, Zelda had to admit, even if the number hadn't really gone up that much), and an even ten Rupees, in one blue and five green ones that she was able to find in the grass. The roast boar added a haunch to her own food stores, too.

More importantly, though, was the magically-locked chest, now open.

An opal. Not much, again, compared to her total wealth… but Zelda still smiled, "I know the Fairies will want more of these given time. Hm… it's been near an hour with me searching in the grass. I should get moving, be long-gone if the Bokoblins come back."

She found Nightmare just a few feet from where she had left him, the stallion's lead-rope still hanging on the same branch, just running toward the end now. He whinnied as she stepped up toward him, an apple in each hand that the horse accepted as a treat happily. She let him munch one fully while she took up the lead, then eat the other while she walked him down the hill to the west, still wary of Bokoblins or, worse, Guardians.

Zelda saw no travelers at all as the day wore on into late afternoon, and the long hill eventually was put behind her, as the Stable itself came into view.

At first glance, it was much like the Dueling Peaks Stable. Aside from some cosmetic changes, different patterns in the cloth included, the main yurt itself was mostly identical. There was again a small market set up outside it, with vendors and stalls and even individual merchants without so much as a donkey to help them carry wares. It was slightly smaller, she thought, but could not tell if that was due to the location, or simply being a different day, or what boiled down to basically-random chance.

That market was set up on the Stable's south side, marked by a few ribbon-tasseled posts, and even featured what looked like an open-air eatery. Behind the Stable, both from her direction and towards its actual back, she could see a paddock or three filled with chickens, sheep, and horses, as well as a few milk-goats. A pier was behind the stable and market together, with a few small boats moored.

And as she had seen earlier, a Shrine, glowing like a miniature orange sun, a quarter-mile further north, on the opposite side of the road.

First, though…

"Hello, Beedle," Zelda greeted the large-nosed, and larger-haired merchant. "Anything interesting to see around here? What's the news?"

"Hah, welcome, Ze- er, Zina," the merchant chuckled nervously as he greeted her, though she thought the smile was genuine. She could not honestly remember if she'd told him her real name or used the now-familiar alias when they had met. Either way, he seemed to know the truth, and was shrewd enough to use the false name anyway, which she was grateful for. "Not much for news and gossip, as you know, so I can't really say. There's plenty around, I'm sure, I'm just not the best to ask. If it's wares, come to Beedle! If it's tales, don't! That's my motto!"

Wasn't it something else before…?

Zelda shrugged, "Well, alright. I'm okay on most provisions and supplies now… I'm doing a fair bit better than when we last spoke. But anything you've got that might be used for elixirs, or arrows, weapons, shields, armor, I'll take it."

Beedle sighed, "I used to do some trade in weapons, but it was all stolen a few years back by some rather unscrupulous fellows. Decided I'd rather not help arm the forces that would see Hyrule further ruined, so… I don't deal in them any more. I do have a few alchemy supplies and arrows, though. Let me see, here…"

She watched him turn and rummage through the shelves and boxes of his portable stall for a minute, then two, before Beedle turned back to face her with a grin, and start setting jars and bottles down. "Some rare Thunderwing Butterflies here- only come out during lightning storms, you know. Good for protection against that same thing, if you can brew it, but the elixir's beyond most any alchemist I know. This one fellow, Gino, is the only man around here that can brew it, and a few up in Akkala or the western highlands where storms are more common are the only ones that I know."

"Hmm… interesting. Are they really rare? I'll take them if so, and maybe if not."

"Very," Beedle chuckled, "and these, too: they also only come out when it's storming. Electric Darners, they call them. I hate to part with any insect, and both of these varieties are beautiful, but at least they aren't beetles."

Zelda snorted as the man winked, tapping the side of his too-long, red nose. "I see. I'll… how much for reach?"

"Just ten Rupees for you- a repeat customer discount," Beedle grinned, "though this is only your second time."

"And if I was the first?" Zelda asked, smiling herself.

"Ten Rupees each, for both the butterflies and darners."

That made Zelda laugh, and prompted another question, "And if I'd been a loyal customer for years?"

"Ah, now that, my dear," Beedle chuckled, "is where the discounts get wild. Why, for a customer like that, I'd be convinced- nay, obligated, to let these go for as little as ten rupees each!"

Zelda could only shake her head, still smiling, "Well, alright, I'm convinced, I suppose. Thirty Rupees it is."

While they finished that transaction, Beedle kept talking, "Mind, I've also got a few rare Tireless Hoppers. Frogs, you know. Good for stamina potions… more sell them for those who need a little extra help performing in the bedroom, you know, but…"

Zelda giggled again shyly, then reached into her satchel, and pulled out a still-squirming one. "Like this? I've nine, I think I'll be alright for now."

"That's the one," Beedle nodded, and pulled his hand up from behind the small counter empty. "And as for arrows, I've twenty-five in stock right now."

She didn't hesitate, "Give them all to me."

"Alright," Beedle nodded happily, "That's a steal for you, I'm sure! Just thirty-six Rupees for the lot."

"Done, done. Here you go. Anything else…?"

"I'm afraid not," the bug-obsessed merchant sighed, his previous good humor dropping so quickly Zelda was sure he was merely acting, at least the emotional part, "Not unless you need more basic supplies. I can buy things you have to sell, of course, but my stock is rather low at the moment for the rarer items."

"Alright. Well, hmm… I suppose not, Beedle. I'm staying the night, though, at least. Will you be here tomorrow?"

He nodded, grinning once more, "Yeah, for certain. I generally stop for about three days at each Stable I reach, and this is my first day here. The rush is why I'm low on stock, you know. But if you do swing by tomorrow, remember to offload some of your precious items, too. Or your junk. You never know what could be useful to others, and they might be looking for just that thing- and have their own things to trade. That's how I do most of my stocking, after all."

"So the more I sell to you, the more likely I am to be able to get different things?"

Beedle grinned, "You got it."

She did, too, "Alright, then. I'll keep it in mind. See you tomorrow, or maybe the next day, Beedle!"

Then with a wave, she turned.

Though Zelda walked Nightmare through the small market for over an hour as the sun began to drop low, she could find nothing else she wanted to buy, though she did pick up a few extra tidbits of information, some of which might be highly valuable, and some of which might be worthless.

Not least of which was a man named Gotter. While he was portly and, in Zelda's opinion, unhandsome, he seemed to think highly of his looks. More importantly, he had claimed, during gossip Zelda overheard, to be the grandson of the grandson of the Royal Family's personal chef.

So Zelda had asked his family name,

If she had remembered those times, Zelda would have asked for his name, just to see if it matched what she knew. Since she couldn't, however, she had simply lingered nearby, pretending to browse a few wicker baskets someone was selling, while she listened in.

Gotter declaimed to a bored-looking woman in the next stall, who was selling crockery like clay cups and bowls, about the wondrous meals the royal family must have enjoyed. Things like Gourmet spiced meats, seafood curries, mushroom risotto, egg pudding, and more. The last thing she heard was even more interesting, though: Apparently, Gotter had heard rumors that his great-great-grandfather's cookbook was still around in the castle, where some looter had been checking for an easy score. They hadn't gotten to it before being chased off, however, by the Castle's new, deadly denizens.

Which meant it was still there.

And Zelda had to wonder… what would the food have tasted like? She enjoyed eating, but wasn't truly what she'd call a connoisseur.

The day was wearing on, though, so Zelda gave the rest of the small hamlet-like space around the Stable a quick walk-through, before she hunted down the innkeeper inside, a woman named Ashelen, who was married to the owner, Ember.

Thankfully, few questions were asked, and with a small fee of forty Rupees more, Zelda and Nightmare were both housed comfortably, warmly, and safely for the night.