#corrupted!link

[tsukinoshinjiu]

XII - The hanged man

"The hanged man understands that his position is a sacrifice that he needed to make in order to progress forward - whether as repentance for past wrongdoings, or a calculated step backward to recalculate his path onward."

[nooneshome12]

WiP Wednesday

I know I haven’t updated my main fic in about a month, but I’m slowly working on it. Here’s a wip I started last week, hope you don’t mind my attempt at some horror/spooky stuff, blame Resident Evil 7/8 for this idea.

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The dark glow and chime of the Sheikah Slate had always been a comfort to her. Something that had brought joy to her inquisitive mind, whether it was for her research or even if it was just used to take a quick picture. It was a privilege to have it in her hands again after a century of having no physical body, having nothing to hold onto for 100 years. 

And hold on to it she did, although currently her grip wasn’t relaxed as it usually would have been if she was a hold of it. No, her vice like grip turned her knuckles white, holding onto the slate as if her life depended on it. 

And that wasn’t the furthest from the truth, with the soft blue hue emanating from the screen being the only source of light she had. And a poor light source it was, only illuminating a few feet in front of her. But it was better than nothing.

But while her slate was the only thing separating her from suffocating darkness, she had almost turned it off a few times already. While light meant she could see where she was going, it also meant that.....it....no, he could see her.

He was still in there, somewhere. 

“Oh, Princess...”

The familiar voice made her jump, dropping the slate face down with only a sliver of light peaking out from underneath and casting some light along the cold stone floor. Normally his voice brought on a pleasant warmth in her, easing her worries away with his soft baritone. 

But this didn’t sound like him. It sounded less like the man she loved and more like the demon she had spent an entire century with. Instead of his usual sarcastic or carefree tone, this was malicious, full of anger, hatred and.....malice. 

He sounded as if he were a few paces from her, and while most of these passageways were more akin to a maze than anything else, where she was now was a simple hallway, one way forward and backwards. Only question was which way was he. 

“I was wondering where you ran off to.....”

Hot breath on the back of her neck answered her question. 

[ashleyswrittenwords]

Whumptober No. 2

In The Hands Of The Enemy (ALT Falling)

Series Summary: After Calamity Ganon awakens, Zelda is left alone and heartbroken. Now something horrible has happened to Link and no more is she merely tasked with fighting the Calamity - but also what is left of her knight.

“I’m sorry…”

It was always apologies when he heard her soft lilted voice.

“I’m so, so sorry.”

Never did Link feel as if he needed them. They always came unwarranted and with a tone of emotion that marred his confusion further. Sometimes they pricked his consciousness in different forms, different words that led to the same unadulterated apology.

He didn’t like them.

Dying was a sensation that was uncomfortable. The initial buckle of his knees was shameful, but what was worse was that the adrenaline in his veins had given out too. Link had been burnt many times yet nothing compared to this. Blue fire seemed to worm itself through his very veins.

It hurt.

His pulse was an odd, irregular pump that stuttered from his chest to his fingertips. The sound of it was deafening. The sky was gold for a long moment and then back to stormy gray. Then, well, she was above him. Holding him. Tears in her eyes and unintelligible words on her lips that he desperately tried to read. Zelda’s hands padded to his side.

Link stopped her when he leaned up, searching her for any sign of harm and other than the dirt on her skin… she was fine.

Zelda was safe.

More than safe. That was her power, right? She could protect herself now.

She was shouting now, shaking him as she spoke. The tugging of before returned. Soft, gentle, not unlike how she held him now. Coaxing with whispers like reaching a bed after a long day of chasing a princess around. Link didn’t notice when he slacked against her body.

Falling was the worst part. It made him realize that – yes, he was dying. Panic held a vice over him even when it was too late. There would be no chance to claw back up because his heart dropped in his chest and went down.

                            Down.

                                          Down.

Down until there was no down. A raw, primal fear that hadn’t gripped him this corporally since he was a child. But he could hear her crying, wailing words.

“This is all my fault.”

Sometimes he heard others, those times were largely confused with his own blank thoughts. Most times it was her, so unmistakably that he didn’t question himself. (Though it could very well be the delusions of a dying brain.)

Time flowed indiscernibly. Was he still dying? Was he rotting in a grave by now? Has Zelda defeated the Calamity yet?

Another voice entered his thoughts, now.

“You’re dead,” it said, so plainly that it annoyed him.

Link wanted it to go away. It persisted.

“You’re complacent. Did you enjoy it?”

No.

“Ah… I only ask because some do.”

Silence.

…

“She’s alone.”

What?

“Your goddess. She’s alone.”

You should leave me alone.

“You know she’s alone then.”

She is capable.

Again, silence.

…

“You can be with her once more.”

If Link could frown, he would.

I do not want her to die.

“No, you could live with her. In a different way, yes, but all the same.”

Link didn’t respond. The voice was growing louder, distinct.

“You love her… do you not?”

I…

“Give anything? You gave your life already.”

What else do I have?

“Admittedly, not much. I would still implore your consideration.”

…

Does she need me?

“Of course.”

You are asking something of me.

“Of course. What’s an offer without payment?”

What is it?

“A simple quest. You’re used to those.”

A quest…

“And your temporary loyalty. However, the life I give you is independent of me. Yours. I’m merely giving you what you were wrought.”

I want to live.

“I know. Do you accept?”

I want to see her again.

“Yes. Do you accept?”

Yes.

Something bit into him. It made him scream without a corpse to scream from. A poison that churned the depths of his soul, filling him completely until all he perceived was red. Link would do whatever he could to stop feeling this way. He hated this… he hated this.

This wouldn’t have happened it he hadn’t died. If the guardians weren’t corrupted and the divine beasts were functional. If the King were adept in guiding his daughter; if his daughter were adept at anything.

Who are you?

Gods, please help him. Had they ever helped him with anything in his life? Link had been praying to them since he was a boy and all he got was burden after burden after burden. It’s what killed his father and what had eventually killed him.

Who are you?

Damn the gods and goddesses alike.

WHO ARE YOU?

[ashleyswrittenwords]

Whumptober No.6

ALT. Comfort

Series Summary: After Calamity Ganon awakens, Zelda is left alone and heartbroken. Now something horrible has happened to Link and no more is she merely tasked with fighting the Calamity - but also what is left of her knight.

The stars were out tonight.

It seemed like even Ganon stopped to watch because his presence wasn’t as combative this evening. Crisp air filled her lungs and she breathed out slowly, shoving her hands into the pockets of her coat. The Sheikah were good at many things, but this jacket prioritized movement over insulation. If she asked, Esme would have offered something else.

But she didn’t.

In the end, Zelda would have felt worse. The old woman there was distraught over a local man who had been murdered but they weren’t able to bury him with the ground frozen over like this. Robbie had begrudgingly taken up the task of figuring out what to do with the dead. It would be a while for her to forget the audible heartbreak.

Footsteps grew loud behind her head before stopping completely.

“Hello Impa,” Zelda airily rasped.

“Someone had to have taught you well. I’m not that easy to listen for.”

Her chest heaved with silent laughter. It didn’t last for long. Impa cleared a patch of snow and sat back on her hands. “Hylia has blessed us tonight.”

Zelda hummed in agreeance. “I suppose you’ll now tell me how dangerous it is to be alone.”

“You aren’t wrong. That is what I want to say, but I won’t.”

They shared a smile, then returned to the stars.

Zelda traced the constellations with her eyes, naming each one in her head. She’d study the stars hundreds of times before, charting them with the seasons and naming ones without documentation. What she couldn’t recall was a night as clear as this.

“I think I’m mourning,” she said, cutting through their silence. Her hands raised into the air, splaying out against the night sky. If she let her eyes fall out of focus, they looked like tiny diamonds pooling around her fingers.  “I’ve never let myself feel things like this before.”

“And what do you feel?”

Her heart stirred in her chest. Each time she dwelled on it, it felt like a little piece of death.

“A lot of things. Sad, scared, angry at the world, angry at myself, and alone… so horribly alone. You know,” Zelda shifted to catch Impa’s gaze. “There was a time where I thought I would never feel lonely again.”

Impa always asked questions she already knew the answers to. “When was that?”

Heartbeats went by. Loud and painful. Her tone was tired, ragged. Wanting for the world to end something that won’t end anytime soon.

“Last year. Almost exactly.”

Zelda could remember the first time Link brought her out to see the stars – truly see the stars. They had made their way out north of the castle, climbing up a small mountain and right when she thought he had gone mad the world opened up before her eyes. He had laid out mats and blankets for her to lie on, already planning for hours of gazing.

It was a time where she was still apprehensive of him. People had always taken from her in some way, but then he began telling her about his mother’s version of constellations. The way Hylia’s Gaze was actually a dove in flight or the Hero’s Sword was really two lovers dancing… it made her trust him. There was a comfort in a voice she rarely had heard, something different and untrained.

She closed her eyes and tried to imagine it was not Impa who was beside her. The feeling took form and she clung to it desperately. Maybe the slight fidgeting in the snow was someone who cared a little too much about supper. Zelda could see the way they would soften ever so slightly under the starlight, actually hearing her many ramblings about astronomy. Gentle murmurs of rationality when the wilderness around them would make noises; a rabbit here or settling snow there.

And like all false hope, it slipped through her fingers. Zelda opened her eyes and saw reality. Her heart went back to that same dull beating.

They sat together silently for what could have been ten minutes or two hours. Impa stood with her hands on her hips.

“I’m going to go now.”

Zelda nodded a hum. “Okay.”

Conflict flickered in Impa’s eyes until she relented to her thoughts. She had been this way since the night at the Citadel; always on edge about Zelda’s safety and general awareness. It was borderline embarrassing to say the least, but the princess could understand. There was a reason why her father had insisted on a knight attendant in the first place.

“I’m going to trust you not to be murdered, but that doesn’t mean you’re allowed to freeze to death.”

The corners of Zelda’s lips twitched upward. She nodded again.

Impa sighed. “Very well then. There will be night watches just in case.”

Footsteps signified her leave and the princess was once again left with the snow, the flowing river, and the millions of eyes in the sky.

[ashleyswrittenwords]

Whumptober No. 1

Let’s Hang Out Sometime! (Waking Up Restrained | Shackled | Hanging)

Series Summary: After Calamity Ganon awakens, Zelda is left alone and heartbroken. Now something horrible has happened to Link and no more is she merely tasked with fighting the Calamity - but also what is left of her knight.

Note: Hey all! October is finally here! Many thanks to @spacebeyonce​ and @dontwaitupxx​ for reading through this first one. The hardest part is always getting started.

The first time she slipped up was the second time she saw him.

It was an immature coincidence when she went to investigate the sound of a little girl screaming, which turned into a horrible one when it was at the exact moment she felt her divine seals slipping.

Zelda woke to darkness and the sounds of her own ragged breathing. For a moment, she panicked. Hands scrambled to pull apart and her body writhing against their holdings to run… to where?

The castle, the castle, the castle.

Her mind was a whirlwind.

Calamity Ganon. The seals. The seals broke.

Then, the world bit back at her all at once in the typical way it did since her powers were awakened. From the flora to the skies and the soil to the mountain peaks. The sensation was so overwhelming that it hurt and she breathed in a loud gasp. Her heart stuttered in her chest at the realization that – no, they didn’t break.

Everything was much too alive for that.

Black spots marred her vision as Zelda fought the bile in the back of her throat. The last thing she remembered were eyes that were a bit too blue and the sensation of the moblins’ claws holding her down.

“That’s a shame.”

She was too weak to jump once the room came into a sudden clarity. It was still dark, but she slowly adjusted to her surroundings. The ground was damp, wetting her bottom and backside uncomfortably, the air stale. A cellar, perhaps? There was a slit in the upper wall, just tall enough that the figure in front of it had to partially lean up to see outside.

“For someone so legendary,” the figure said, but there was no mystery when he opened his mouth. “Ropes were enough to shackle you down.”

Her head was in the clouds and she wrestled with her senses to anchor where her body was. When she spoke, her voice was scratchy, misused.

“What did you do to me?”

His laughter was Death Mountain magma being doused by cool sea water. Deep and dangerous, yet tempting and curious. It made her cringe.

“Well,” he nodded to himself. “That is the question, isn’t it?”

Making out his form was difficult in the dark, harder to grasp that this wasn’t him because the silhouette was the same. The manner of his purposeful, lumbering gait bared such a semblance that her breast overflowed with hope that maybe Hylia wasn’t so cruel to let him leave her.

Why should their story be any different from the heroes and princesses of old?

Zelda was captured, put in a dark place. And here he was coming near her with an ever-comforting presence. She was to be rescued.

Then, her eyes adjusted just enough and suddenly that smile wasn’t so reassuring. Hands that were meant to be Link’s curled into fists and relaxed repeatedly, making his intentions drill forebodingly in her stomach.

“Don’t touch me!” Zelda screeched, pushing her feet against the stone and doing anything that meant getting away from him. She learned her ankles were also bound and her heels slid against the floor only to push her back flush with the wall behind her.

Link’s hand reached the back of her head. She lashed to the ground, screaming obscenities. Fingernails dug harshly into her scalp and snapped her head back. Nose met nose, grimace met silent scream, narrowed eyes met wide ones. Her palm flexed behind her, instinctively wanting to draw power from a well long since dried up.

He sneered, “Do you think just because you were able to pin Ganon down, you could do the same to me?”

The pressure on her hair tightened,  pulling a choked sound from her throat.

“Don’t pretend as if I haven’t seen you playing royalty across Hyrule. Playing at building something by going from town to town. I never realized you could be such a comedian,” he said, smoothing a course thumb over her cheek. “Because you sure are humoring me.”

The inflicted pain was red and hot. Her nails bit into her palm until the two throbbing parts of her body canceled out. He continued to speak into the open air, not seeming to care if she heard or not.

Feather light laughter escaped him with the sound of his indecisiveness to keep air in his chest. His gaze washing over her until eventually the laughter  morphed into a deafening scream. Link wrenched his hand away, tearing strands of hair with it. A dark, coagulated substance dripped to the floor, too thick to be water. The stench was almost overwhelming.

Zelda fumbled to pull the  loosened rope from her wrists, the light from her fingertips was already fading and the ground shook. She  fixed her attention to her ankles, wrestling the blade in the bottom of her boot out to pry the constraints apart.

Link continued to scream, cradling his hands against his stomach.

“Yes,” she said, once the soles of her feet found the floor. The word came out airy, but loud over his audible pain.

His eyes found hers, now yellow  and shocking. Zelda forced herself to maintain the stare, even when he doubled over. She didn’t elaborate because they both knew what she was answering.

The princess didn’t pretend to know what was happening to him because her power hadn’t manifested like this since Calamity Ganon was trapped. Nor did she let herself inspect any further. The door flew open, revealing a masked Yiga clansman. He stopped his sentence to stare at Link.

When his head turned to Zelda, she held the short blade before her and desperately tried to ignore the throbbing in her skull. Immediately, he readied a stance and shouted as the broadsword he  held swung down harshly. She tensed, cursing herself for not listening to Impa more, and inelegantly tripped backwards to avoid it.

The mask didn’t give her any hints on what he was about to do, so when he lurched she just narrowly escaped him. The clansman’s bulky frame didn’t allow his movements to follow through with her own, which made it easier for her to climb his back and trap him in a headlock. Their frantic clawing made maintaining her leverage difficult. Suddenly her back slammed into the adjacent wall and her breath was knocked out of her.

Don’t think about it. Just do it. Do not think about it.

With nimble fingers, she flipped the blade towards herself and drove it inward with the rest of her remaining strength. The Yiga gargled into her ear and her grip on the knife slipped as the arteries in his neck spilled open. Too lodged to pull out, Zelda abandoned the knife once the body under her slacked to the ground. She didn’t turn even when Link called out to her in a voice all too familiar.

[ashleyswrittenwords]

Whumptober No.7

I’ve Got You (Support | Carrying | Enemy to Caretaker)

Series Summary: After Calamity Ganon awakens, Zelda is left alone and heartbroken. Now something horrible has happened to Link and no more is she merely tasked with fighting the Calamity - but also what is left of her knight.

Against her better judgement, Zelda unfurled from the ball she had cocooned herself into. Impa was long gone – back to the village that wasn’t too far from where she stayed stargazing. Chills snuck down her spine and her joints ached from the long period of stasis on the ground.

She rolled up into a seat, hands quickly rubbing at the crick forming in her neck.

There were a tumultuous number of factors that made this a bad idea. Even while knowing that, she didn’t feel the urge to return to the village where she knew she’d be safe and warm. There was a freedom in being alone, a hint of the independence she had always yearned for.

Now, her fingertips reached for the sky.

I believe he was looking for you.

Her movements stuttered and her arms folded behind her head.

The implications of that were obvious and to pretend they were anything else was childish, but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t dwell on it any less. Nor would it spell that she would forget the way Link saw her for the brief span of time. It was almost him.

Almost.

Behind her was a cluster of buildings and within that light from several pitched tents. Zelda wasn’t sure how long she had been away. The songs she could scarcely hear coming from the village had ceased and she assumed that the only ones awake were the rotating night watch. Her nose scrunched at the brief comparison to her former guard. These people were far from that. Though some had formal training, the majority were simply men and women who had lost enough to follow her in protecting what was left of Hyrule.

It was confounding because it was her fault after all. Normally Impa would scold her into “corralling her thoughts”, but Impa wasn’t here to read her mind. Zelda could be as unschooled as she pleased.

A short walk is what she needed, or that’s what she told herself. She’d be a fool to waste a night like this. Other than the slight wading in the snow, it wasn’t hard to convince herself to do just that. The land laid out in front of her, the darkness not as fierce when the stars were there to light the way. The snow, however, hid small crags that made her trip.

She made an embarrassingly uncouth noise, found her bearings, and glanced back at the town she was temporarily leaving. At that point the distance would mask any uncouthness she could muster and it suited her just fine. Zelda wobbled up the hill to gain a better vantage point.

Castle Town had been once formidable. It had fortified walls to keep its wealth within and its enemies outside. For centuries, it had endured and even grown. On a clear night, one could spy the lights of Castle Town from the peak of Mount Lanayru – she would know because she had done it. A chill not born from cold met her as she stared at the black abyss of where the city was meant to be. Nothing but the dull hue of Calamity Ganon illuminated the castle.

As the princess, she should feel anguish and she had for a time. Guilt, sorrow, and grief rolled into one wedged deep. But no one human can keep living with that weight, according to Impa of course. Zelda found that she had only gotten used to it; dulled it, adapted to live with it. None of that was communicated to her Sheikah friend. Some things were better left unsaid.

Below her was the snaking Regencia River, winding from Hyrule Castle’s moats and to the south. Zelda had seen is freeze over before, but she recalled remark from Purah about the downward temperature trends.

Ice skating. That was something she missed. She wasn’t particularly good at it, as much as her father bragged. To anyone that discussed his daughter with him, Zelda was a renaissance woman to the fault of where the kingdom needed her most. Who was to call him out when her days were spent studying in monasteries and venturing across the country for holy springs?

Zelda glanced back at the village while biting at the inside of her cheek. Scaling down the hill left her completely out of view, but her feet had their own mind.

Her mother, however, was a little too honest. It was her smile that Zelda remembered the most, toothy and unadulterated. Always so perfectly her and bursting with optimism. Before the doctors had barred Zelda from seeing her mother alive again, she promised her that she would be able to surface her power. In a sense, she wasn’t wrong but it couldn’t have been what she had expected.

Zelda’s boots toed the edge of the iced over river. Solidness against rubber felt safe enough and once she had smoothed back any loose hairs from her braid, the woman had a surge of confidence. It bubbled in her chest and twitched the corners of her lips upward.

The boot’s heel picked up in hesitance before stepping on the ice altogether.

This was silly.

She took another step and the liberty to slide it across the surface, her stance wobbling in uncertainty. Another step when she regained it. Pale hands outstretched on either side of her. They traded heights frantically as nervous laughter trembled on her lips.

Surely, she had gone mad.

With time she created a gentle shuffling of feet and her subconscious dared her to venture further. Whatever she was doing was a pitiful bastardization of ice skating, but she’d be lying to think that having the correct footwear would make any difference.

A noise made her whip her head back to the shore. The swiftness caused her to misplace her weight and her back foot slipped forward. Her backside hit the ice harshly, pain shot up her sides.

“Dammit-”

The curse froze on her lips when a sharpness pierced through the air. It lasted long, as if snaking through the air. Suddenly Zelda felt it and her hands scraped up the ice only for her to fall again. The bank was so far with her, nearly halfway across the river’s width. Another low, cutting sound caught her ears and then the ice turned to large sectioned puzzle pieces.

Zelda held her breath, scrambling upward to see the world turn and capsize.

Her environment muffled. Shock stalled her muscles as icy cold invaded her senses.

Cold, cold, cold.

She kicked her feet wildly only to realize that she couldn’t tell which direction was up. It wasn’t until the weight of her boot suctioned her further into the dark abyss did she begin pulling herself to the surface. The first attempt was lame, and already Zelda’s muscles burned fiercely.

Anxiety gripped her. She kicked again, then again until there was nothing more she could give. Cold solid ice scraped her fingertips and despite the force she applied to her pounding, it wouldn’t give. In the murky water, Zelda watched how more air left her.

Screaming. She was screaming.

It was foolish. All of this was, she decided suddenly when her hands left the ice. Born a princess, soon motherless, a life of falling dominos left her an orphan altogether.

What was the point?

Meant to be Hylia’s servant, maybe. And she had been for a time. Now here she was, drowning in a river caused not by Ganon. Her lungs met the unforgivable water. It would soon be all black due to her closing her eyes or falling deeper into the river.

Life was unforgiving too. All it did was take. Zelda was all too willing to give: her time, energy, opportunity. Had it not been good enough for Hylia?

She just wanted to be happy – even if it took taking a few dedicated moments back.

The water jostled her.

Had she taken too much?

Solidness gripped her arm.

Her mother seemed happy. Is that why she died?

Then, her waist.

Zelda’s lungs hurt. She wanted it to stop.

“Death is only good when it’s swift.”

It was as if he meant to add that he knew from experience. He watched her with stolen eyes. His coat, too, was most likely stolen. The winter weather an excuse enough to mask what Calamity Ganon had done to him. She had heard stories of him tricking clueless people into giving him shelter.

Zelda hated him. This was not Link. How dare he pretend to be the same man!

But the string of her bow relaxed anyway because nothing good ever came from hope.

There was pressure on her chest. So much pressure that came and went.

The woman was taken away by Impa. The town was built into the hillside, so she found herself on a rooftop. Zelda was stuck in a fight with him. His grin was wild, drunk until she read his steps wrong and her arm was caught in the crossfire of his blade. It was a shallow cut only because he jerked back at the sound of fabric tearing. Blood pooled in the wound, but she rebounded quickly.

The jacket she wore was roughly being torn.

Then, muttering anger. “…never walk on river ice…”

Her short sword balanced in her hand as she met him once more. Link appeared laxed, meeting her blows with an unreadable expression – staring uncomfortably at her arm. The roof was sloped, and with him taking the upper ground she expected this to be difficult. Zelda hadn’t expected to be tripped by his foot and sent tumbling into a snowbank. He was gone by the time she recovered.

Unexpected warmth enveloped her. She clung to it, shivering violently. It was a moving heat that adjusted her until she was comfortably cradled. There was a crackling fire singing in her ears and something that was distinctly not fire. A haven she desperately clung to.

Zelda couldn’t feel much. Her hands were the ice that trapped her. She pressed her fingers closer to that warmth – she wasn’t burned, just pulled tighter. Exhaustion took hold of her mild consciousness. There was a smell that was familiar, but sleep overtook her before she could figure it out.

  “Princess?”

The sudden light made Zelda squint. She buried herself deeper into the quilts.

“Princess, please. Are you alright?”

Light nudges stirred her to lucidity. She blinked, adjusting to the brightness and then to who was in front of her. Esme stared with wide eyes, adverting them with a flush. Zelda shivered and, to her horror, looked down to see pale nakedness. The princess yelped, pulling the blankets around her tightly.

She was at the entrance of a barn; the doors were ajar. Beyond Esme was her soaked clothes laid out nearly on hay bales.

Esme seemed to take assessment, already with a steaming cup in hand. “You have your people worried sick, love.”

“I-I um,” she swallowed, sitting up. It was difficult to form words. She looked down at her forearm to see intricate bandages around her wound from last night. “Did you see anyone else here?”

Esme gave her an odd look, glancing around the small barn.

Evidently not.

[ashleyswrittenwords]

Whumptober No.8

Where Did Everyone Go? (“Don’t Say Goodbye” | Abandoned | Isolation)

Series Summary: After Calamity Ganon awakens, Zelda is left alone and heartbroken. Now something horrible has happened to Link and no more is she merely tasked with fighting the Calamity - but also what is left of her knight.

“You’re going to leave me again,” Zelda said plainly. She stared up at Urbosa who simply looked at her in pity. When she moved to pull the princess into an embrace, she didn’t try to negate her.

“There are some things we cannot change, little bird.”

Zelda returned the hug anyway, wanting tears to help her expel the pain in her chest. Then, she was gone and she felt nothing. Now, she was smaller. A toddler making her way around her father’s desk as he rattled off the day’s tasks that would never be completed. King Rhoam looked down from his work and pulled her into his lap.

He was telling her a story that he would never have during the daylight hours. It was a narration of a bedtime story he used to act out before her nanny would put out the candles. Zelda didn’t stop him. He hadn’t spoken this way to her in over a decade, gentle and kind. Words full of talking teddy bears and a land of sweets.

When will she forget his voice just as she did her mother’s?

Gone again, she was. Princess Mipha stood before her, venting about little pet peeves that she couldn’t share with anyone else. A tray of tea sat in front of them with a blissful spring breeze to keep them cool. She used to be so shy, but Zelda was nothing if not jealous of how adept she was in every faucet of life. Mipha was always calm and in control; her timidness falling apart when her people needed her.

It was near the end that they recognized each other as friends, or close to.

Princess Mipha stopped, then smiled, “I wish I had more time.”

An apology fell from Zelda’s lips but she could scarcely hear it. The Zora was so far away now. Gone.

Zelda sat in a field, her arms over her knees to feel the wind on her face. Below the hill were the Champions, newly ordained and arguing on how their portrait should look. Revali was intent on the regality of everything for future generations while Daruk waved him off.

Mipha and Urbosa were tapping at the Sheikah Slate with unsure expressions.

The princess didn’t need to turn her head to address him. “You should help them.”

Link was sitting beside her. The Master Sword in its sheath among the grass. He was already watching her with a smile on his lips.

“They’ll be okay.”

Her dreams were awfully telling lately. It was like she knew she enjoyed his eyes on her. Zelda intertwined her hand in his, knowing that they weren’t this close by the time of this pocket of memories occurred. She didn’t care.

Like habit, she met him with, “I’m sorry.”

Link’s fingers tightened around hers. He smoothed his thumb over her knuckles. Would he be able to tell that her fingers were more calloused than before?

“You say that a lot,” he said. She drank him in. All the tiny features of his face that weren’t cross ridden by madness. Tunic untorn and without a wound to be mended by Malice. Revali was continuing to throw a fit at the foot of the hill while Urbosa was shouting questions up at them.

Zelda couldn’t cry in her dreams.

“You’re going to leave me again,” Link spoke and folded another hand over her own. His eyes were knowing.

She shook her head despite the ebbing feeling of consciousness washing over her.

The hills were gone. Her friends were gone. And Link, too, was gone.

[ashleyswrittenwords]

Whumptober No.5

Where Do You Think You’re Going? (On the Run | Failed Escape | Rescue)

Series Summary: After Calamity Ganon awakens, Zelda is left alone and heartbroken. Now something horrible has happened to Link and no more is she merely tasked with fighting the Calamity - but also what is left of her knight.

Growing up, everyone was taught about the inevitable prophecy.

Esme knew as much as anyone did that 10,000 years ago a fabled princess and her hero fought against a dreaded evil, ultimately bringing peace to Hyrule. It was a tale told in primary school alongside the common alphabet. As a young girl, she nearly obsessed over the prophecy – reading legends and mythos to find similar themes that all led back to a girl with the blood of Hylia and a boy blessed with Her sword.

So, when it was decreed by the historians that the ancient evil would soon break from its seal Esme was not afraid. She knew their crown princess was the goddess’s descendent just as the many princesses before her. Esme had grown from a girl and into a young woman and with that, she found love and bore a family. Still, with so much at stake now, she wasn’t afraid because by the time her daughter was born, they had found the boy who will wield the sword that seals the darkness.

It seemed that everything was falling into place.

Her hometown, just west of Castle Town, was evacuated in preparation for Calamity Ganon. Her husband refused to leave as this was his father’s home and so she left with her children to the outstretches of Hyrule.

Naturally, the Calamity resurfaced and with it was destruction.

News traveled relatively fast. The events that were meant to happen fell out of place. The princess did awaken her power; however, it was too late. Her knight had died at Fort Hateno while they were fleeing from Calamity Ganon. As she was meant to, Princess Zelda was able to fight back against the Calamity’s adversaries even though the time in between had collapsed their current monarchy and resulted in a stand still.

With no hero, who was going to slay the darkness?

It had been nearly a full year since the Calamity overshadowed them. Hyrule was experiencing one of its coldest winters on record and Esme hadn’t seen her husband in months. The only acknowledgement of his whereabouts came from the men who visited their wives or the housewives that have returned to their settlement. It was grueling to be away from him, but she knew he was alive and her two young children were safer away from where Calamity Ganon was the strongest.

Esme also knew her husband wanted to protect their little farmhouse for as long as possible, but it was unforeseeable how long that demon would hold reign over Hyrule. And, of course, she missed him. Their family was alive and well. Without him it only felt incomplete and if she had to drag that man from that house, then so be it.

Perhaps it wasn’t the wisest to leave in the dead of winter. The thought occurred to her as she began trekking east. Her children were safe with her parents and in-laws, so she knew they would be well-cared for. Hylia had blessed them with being so close to Rito Village and the inhabitants were more than generous with supplying them foodstuffs and winter gear. Because of this, Esme told herself she would endure.

Hylians weren’t the only ones that hated the cold, according to her many tomes on Hylian legends, the monsters were adverse to these conditions. So, yes, should she not run into anything particularly difficult – Esme would endure.

She took her old horse east without a hitch. It was true that there was an influx in monsters. They tended to watch her from far away, not willing to chase after one woman. If anything, they were disinterested in her and if she weren’t as smart as she was, Esme would’ve been slightly offended.

Families didn’t stay in her little village, especially in the months following the Calamity. Those that stuck with her stubborn husband were other men and the elder families whose children were already grown.

When she arrived, Esme didn’t see one person on the roads. The sun was setting over the horizon and beyond the windmill of their village was Hyrule Castle in the distance. When prior she had felt blessed to have such a view, it now felt like an awful reminder of what they lost. Their village was modest, but it had never been so quiet.

Winter or not, one of the major roads passed through here and there was always something happening. Mr. Hutchinson would have his world-famous bread baking every morning, his wife just as busy with winter treats. The children here were always so active in the snow. They never tired of their games and would dress up every year to sneak ale from the midwinter festival. (They never succeeded when Esme was around, but sometimes she would overlook the older teens because she was young enough to remember how it feels to yearn for adulthood.)

Mrs. Hutchinson opened her door the moment Esme rode into town. Her wrinkles had deepened and the stress had worn her features. They embraced briefly.

“I saw your old man just the other day,” she had said. “There aren’t many that have stayed, but he’s been beyond helpful.”

Esme scowled at that, “He should be with his family. Just like you and your husband.”

The baker’s wife sighed, “With the raids happening all around this place… you’re right, we should. The timing just hasn’t been the best.”

In response, Esme should have asked what she meant. She didn’t. Instead, she was all too eager to see her partner. Not a moment longer she had bid Mrs. Hutchinson goodbye and promised she’d stop by after wrangling her own husband into leaving.

At the end of the road was her home. It was still standing in one piece with the stable beside it empty. With a gentle voice, she left her horse in the open field in front of her home. She’d properly feed and stable him once she saw her husband.

The door creaked open under her fingertips and she shivered from the sudden shelter from the wind. The fireplace was out, however the embers were glowing and the house looked properly lived in. The lock to the door clattered shut. She unwound the Rito scarf from her shoulders and set it on the coat rack, shedding her first layer of clothes with it. The living space had a set of dishes atop a table, a hearth on the far wall, and a small kitchenette that Esme had always adored.

He wasn’t home, evident from the empty space on the coat rack, but she popped in front of their mirror anyway. Her hands went to smooth down her hair, combing down her pale locks after two days of riding. Her eyes held extra lines she hadn’t noticed before now.

A thought snuck into her head and she cursed herself for her vanity.

“Ben?” she called out, turning slightly to glance at the stairs that disappeared to the upper floor. There wasn’t an answer, so she turned back with a crease in her brow. The emptiness bothered her more than she’d ever admit to him.

He’d tease her about missing him. She’d bully him into confessing that he missed her too.

Esme turned fully away from the mirror and bounded up the steps, calling out again, “Benji?”

It was darker upstairs. She passed the kids’ room and peered into her own. The sheets on their bed were mussed, the workmanship of a man whose heart was only half into the task. That, too, was empty.

She resigned to looking out their bedroom window over the snow-covered cabbage field. They didn’t make much money by farming. Her husband had once done reservation work in the Royal Guard before leaving prior to the Calamity. Even if she believed it was all going to work out, she didn’t want him in danger. Esme knew how guilty he felt, but they weren’t as young as they used to be – only living for each other. They had two more little lives to support, and she wasn’t sure she could do it without him.

Dusk had fallen over the town when she heard a loud bang coming from the village. The picture frames on the walls shook before ebbing back into place. Esme’s heart stuttered in her chest and she pressed her cheek flush to glass to find the source of the loud sound. Her hands launched herself from the windowsill and she bounded down the stairs. Her scarf tangled with the coat rack so she left it a flurry of motions to open the door.

From the entrance of her house were a varied array of screams emanating from the center of town. Smoke rose steadily into the air, illuminated ominously by fire. Esme tried to hold down her horse, but he was already spooked and shirked away from her touch.

Esme did the second best thing, she began running. The air was colder than before and it pinched her cheeks as she reached the road. On her way out, a stocky man she recognized was running her way.

“Esme, gods, what are you doing here?” he huffed out a breath, his hands placed tactfully on his knees. He was the butcher’s apprentice, no doubt staying to safeguard the butcher shop.

“I came for Ben,” she glanced at the direction he came from with concern. “What’s happening?! Are we being robbed?”

“Monsters. A lot of monsters. They’ve been going around raiding villages for food instead of finding it on their own,” he frowned. “You should flee. Come on.”

He went for her arm, but she tore it away. “What about the Hutchinsons? Are you just leaving them?”

He glared at the accusations, “It’s too late!”

She held in her disbelief, again starting down the road.

“Esme, stop! It isn’t just the monsters!”

It didn’t matter. It was beyond awful to leave an elderly couple to fend for themselves. Hopefully he was the only one to abandon them.

The fires roared over the town square and were already spreading towards the bakery. It looked like they started at the general store. Esme reached the bakery entrance, pulling at the door and pounded for them to open up. The porch to the general store creaked to a slump before falling completely into charred smoke. She hacked on a throatful of it and stumbling from the bakery front.

Her name found her ears and she saw a crouched form slumped against the building. Esme’s sight adjusted and she stumbled over.

“Margaret! Are you- Hylia above,” Esme choked on her words and held her hands in front of her month.

Mrs. Hutchinson looked up at her mournfully, tears in her eyes, then looked back down at her husband. He was limp in her arms and stared with unseeing eyes. Sweet Mr. Hutchinson was dead and surrounded by a puddle of his own blood.

Mrs. Hutchinson sniffed and spoke through watery words, “You should leave, Esme. Those monsters…”

She heard them. A bokoblin snort coming from the other side of the wall, then a crash. They were rummaging for food.

“Come on,” Esme began, ignoring the bile forming in her throat to help Margaret to a stand. The women was hesitant at first.

“But…” she motioned to her husband.

Esme found her eyes, “He’d want you to live. Let’s go.”

Her hands shook with uncertainty, but she willed it not to appear on her face. If she could get this woman to her horse then they could start west. The search for her own husband would have to wait, even if the thought of his fate made her heart ache horribly.

Another crash was heard and across the square was a shout of anger.

“Burn it all, damn it!”

It was so loud that Esme stopped in her tracks. Across the square passed the town well was a man in front of the mayor’s broken-in door. She had half a mind to call out for help until his mannerisms sunk in. A blue moblin knelt before him… groveling at his feet. The man brought a swift kick to its head, glaring down at the thing.

“Animals. The lot of you. I want it to the ground. Do you hear me?! You’re not here to scavenge!”

Esme expected the moblin to rear up and attack the idiot, but he only made a noise of pain and slunk backward. She began to think that this idiot wasn’t an idiot after all.

Anger welled in her chest, but she wasn’t reckless. She wouldn’t be. The man turned to them, bright yellow eyes against the darkness. His motions stuttered for a few seconds, enough time to tell Margaret that her horse was waiting at the farmhouse.

He began walking towards them. A nondescript expression forming on his face.

“What about you? I’ll ride this way,” Mrs. Hutchinson whispered harshly, already backing away at the sight.

“No,” Esme said immediately. “No, you leave first thing. I’ll find another way.”

The woman ran off, leaving Esme to glower in the man’s direction. She shouted, hoping to seem indignant instead of startled. If she distracted him then maybe he wouldn’t care to go after her friend.

“What are you doing to my town?”

He was still fairly far away, but she could see the unnaturalness in his movements. His sword in his hand… Esme stumbled back. Blood, red and recent dripped from the tip.

She took a step back and he tilted his head, watching her curiously. “Your town?”

Esme held in a gasp. She knew that face. “I-I thought… I thought it wasn’t true…” she breathed out.

Even with the fire illuminating from behind him, it was unmistakable. She had taken her family to Castle Town to see one of the many military parades and festivities the king threw to keep public morale high. The Champions were a staple, famous. Esme could spot the Hylian Champion easily in a crowd.

But she made a mistake – her voice wavered. His steps grew faster and she staggered back before falling into a run. The fire had spread further, wicking up from the rooves. Rich laughter followed her, echoing off the walls as she ran past the bakery.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

A yelp escaped her as she tripped over Mr. Hutchinson’s dead body. Her leg twisted awkwardly, but she scrambled up anyway. The short alleyway led to a brick way where the bakery furnaces were along with a storage area for the general store. Esme bypassed these too, cursing herself for not taking another avenue.

With the town cut out of the hills, the back alleys were sloped and craggy where infrastructure wasn’t held as a priority. It was often that snow was left undug. Her ankle pulsed red and gave out under her weight once the snow grew too high.

Esme cursed bitterly, scraping by her hands and knees until even that was pointless.

The princess’s knight had loud boots. They were thick and distinctly of military garb. The rest of it wasn’t. He wore a common coat, but peaking out was a Hylian royal blue. In his grip was a broadsword, drawn and ready.

“Please!” she began, her voice taunt. “I-I have children waiting for me.”

In a blink, things were slightly different. He blinked down at her with a blankness and when he kneeled before her, she winced and pulled away as far as she possibly could. When she opened her eyes, she saw normalcy in his. A cobalt, brilliant and beautiful.

The knight brought a hand to her bangs and smoothed them back. It was a gentle gesture. Her hair threaded through his fingers.

“Your hair is the wrong shade,” he said absently, as if disappointed. “And your eyes are the wrong color.”

Esme went to speak but as soon as she did a piercing sound flew through the air and an arrow burrowed into the knight’s shoulder. The force propelled him backward and he made a sharp sound. It happened quick. He rolled into a stance, but then her view of him was obstructed by another.

The woman turned to meet her eyes and gave a minute signal to leave. Her blonde hair was braided back tightly and in her hands was a bow with an arrow readied on the string. The quiver strapped to her back jostled when she faced the knight once more.

“I was wondering when you would show up,” he grunted, Esme heard the snap of wood.

“What do you have to gain by doing this?” she sneered. She stood readily; her thick clothes clear that she was expecting a fight.

Esme shuffled in the snow to get off the ground, but with her injury her getaway was slow.

“You never come out to see me,” he said, a grin was audible. “What else was I to do? Oh… are you going to kill me?”

The knight was referencing the woman’s bow. Esme held in a gasp as the arrowhead shown with bright light. The fingerless gloves she wore readjusted on the bow.

That must be…

From Esme’s position, she could see the broadsword loosen in his grip then falling to the dirty snow altogether.

“Was my sword not enough for you? We both know you can wield it now, but – no –  you choose another weapon. I should be insulted,” his humor was palpable. “How poetic would it be to be struck down by something so dear to me?”

“Shut up,” Princess Zelda said through gritted teeth. “Pick up your sword.”

He sighed heavily, falling to his knees in a grandiose slump. “I suppose my charge will do.”

“Link.”

“Death is only good when it’s swift.”

“Link!”

Esme watched as he just barely made eye contact with her. Back was that cat-eye yellow. She opened her mouth to yell out a warning but Zelda had already loosened the tenseness of her string.

In one motion, Link gathered the hilt of his sword in one hand and sprung towards the princess. Her reflexes acted quickly, attempting to parry with the bow’s neck. She braced herself, becoming easily overpowered by the man’s weight and twisted away from him quickly. She drew the sword at her hip in time for his follow through. Steel clashed against steel.

A hand on Esme’s shoulder startled her. She met the amber-red eyes of a Sheikah who tried her best to express that she wasn’t in danger.

“Please, come with me.”

Esme wanted to argue in favor of helping the princess.

“We can only leave him to her. Quickly now.”

At that, she acquiesced and took the woman’s hand. Ducking through a series of alleyways, the Sheikah seemed to know this town better than Esme did. Finally at the town square, she led her to a pair wearing traditional garb. Their faces were covered, but when they saw the woman leading her, they stood.

“Let us go inside,” the smaller of the two said, she took her hand gingerly and Esme turned to thank the one that found her, she was gone.

“Always in a hurry,” she tsked. Her hair was cut to her shoulders and despite her stature, she had no problem carrying Esme inside the house. The fire of before seemed dampened now.

“They must have found him,” the man exasperated, following them inside. “Did you even scout the area? What about those bokolins?”

She gasped at the accusation, wriggling her mask down to glare with full effect. “Um, yes, Robbie. I did. I sent those little soldier boys over.”

Robbie scoffed.

“My name is Purah,” she said with a smile a little too bright and motioned for her to sit. They were in a hallway where a skinny bench sat. Immediately, she saw a dampened Mrs. Hutchinson sitting on the same bench.

“Margaret!” Esme smiled. “You’re safe.”

Purah raised a brow, “Oh good you know one another. The ankle, is it?”

In response, she nodded.

“Are you well, dear?” Mrs. Hutchinson said, enveloping Esme’s hand in hers.

She sobered up, remembering sharply that this woman’s husband was dead. “I am. Thank you. I believe the princess saved me.”

The woman blinked, “Princess Zelda? I found her and her group on the way to your farm.”

“How miraculous,” Esme winced as Purah rotated her ankle.

“Pardon,” she said under thick glasses. “I may be a doctor but my medicine for alive things is a bit rough.”

As Purah examined her ankle, the Sheikah woman of before returned with the princess beside her. Through the small window, Esme watched as they were chattering together and only stopping when a group of men returned with reports. There were at least a dozen men and women, all carrying some sort of weaponry, scurrying through the village either looking through debris or taking the remaining monsters.

The princess’s clothes were slightly more disheveled , but before she could examine further Esme’s thoughts were cut off.

Purah sniffed, “Sprained – probably. According to my calculations, I’m pretty sure.”

“Not that confident, it seems.”

“Robbie, shush!”

Attempting to put weight on it, Esme stood and braced the wall. It wasn’t as bad as she expected.

Robbie opened the door for her and when she hobbled down the steps, she caught Zelda’s attention.

“Your Highness-”

At that, she shot up from the conversation she was in.

“Just Zelda,” she remediated, softening the hurry in her speech. “Please. Did he hurt you?”

Esme bit the inside of her lip. “No, I fell… though I was convinced he would. Thank you.”

“He most likely would have,” the Sheikah woman beside the princess muttered.

Zelda politely acknowledged her before smiling graciously at Esme. “Of course.”

There was a sharp tear through one of Zelda’s sleeves with the faint trace of red. She didn’t seem bothered by it. Purah went about looking at it with a gruff series of mumbling.

“You really should be evacuated,” Zelda spoke up again. “This area is only miles from Castle Town. The creatures here are stronger.”

“Forgive me but… I didn’t know it was true. The hero,” Esme swallowed her nerves. “He’s….”

Purah’s chattering stopped and even the soldiers’ side conversation settled to silence. The group came to a standstill. The only sound came from several men working on outing the fires.

Zelda worried her lip between her teeth. “It happened during the Calamity. We think that somehow Calamity Ganon infected his body with Malice. I’m unsure what it amounts to…”

The Sheikah woman put a hand on her shoulder when she trailed off. Her voice was cool, prepared, “He is the Calamity Ganon’s adversary now. We’re in the midst of stopping him.”

So, the tales were true. And like that, the Sheikah commenced once more into delivering orders to the men and women putting out the fire. Zelda met her eyes with a subdued smile, “Again, I implore you to take as many people to the evacuation zones. They’re the same as planned prior to Calamity Ganon. Do you need a guide?”

“No, actually, I’ve come from the settlement near Rito Village. I’m looking for my husband.” Hope flooded Esme’s breast. “His name is Benji Feidelm.”

Slight confusion screwed the princess’s lips together until her face slacked slightly, she turned to Robbie and asked a soft question. He nodded and walked away towards the smoking buildings.

“He’s been a fantastic help,” she smiled again.

Only moments later, cheeks marred with soot, she saw him. His hair was that same mussy brown that she’d grown to love so much. Ben’s eyes met hers, widened, then ran up to wrap his arms around her. Her feet left the ground while in his embrace and she couldn’t help but laugh as tears escaped her eyes.

When he put her down, she punched him squarely in the shoulder.

The princess watched kindly but left soon after.

  Eventually, the commotion died down to make camp in the village square. Benji and Esme insisted that their farmhouse be used, but the group who followed the princess refused in place for the tents they packed. They hadn’t been soldiers’ after all, well, not all of them. As Benji had explained, they were people who were willing to thwart Ganon in any way they could – no matter how menial.

Zelda placed a hand on her arm, partially steering her away from the campfire songs.

“I’m sorry,” she lowered her voice and glanced behind her at Impa, who was caught in an argument between Purah and Robbie. “But was Link telling you something? Before I intervened?”

Esme searched her, taking in the slight glimmer in her green eyes. She was a beautiful girl, but it wouldn’t be so surprising. She was the Princess of Hyrule. As she waited, there was intelligence within her, guiding her.

“I wish I knew what he meant. He said that my hair and eyes were the wrong colors,” she frowned at the short-sighted answer. Esme was smart. She’d fallen in love with the legends of heroes and princesses. They were a staple story in her family, so she had an inkling of an answer. “I believe he was looking for you.”

Briefly, Zelda’s face softened. Her brows knitted together and her eyes grew. Esme reached for her, as any woman would to comfort another, but she had already regrouped. Her jaw set and she added a plastic smile.

“I see, thank you.”

Esme watched her leave the square altogether.