She loved him, once. Not in that romantic sense (though there were hints of it or so she'd liked to believe). Yet there was certainly an unmistakable connection shared between the two. And though Hilda was not quite in tune with her emotions in that same keen sense Ravio was, even she could sense that very bond forged between the two through bitter tragedies. Though unfortunate that was how these two met it was a meeting she was grateful for all the same. Their relationship was sweet as the scent of a fragrant flower but it was still as delicate as the lovely petals blossoming on the said flower. And she'd been the one who ripped out those delicate petals, without mercy, without hesitance. She'd broken their bond first. And it still hurts to think that Hilda had so ruthlessly thrown Ravio away like that due to her skewed judgment in that he had abandoned her, no different from everyone else who'd left her. All alone, as previous wearers of the crowns were. All alone. And it'd hurt. It'd hurt so much when he'd vanish without a word. Still, she felt traces of that anger and pain over him linger around in her heart.
But, he did the right thing. And she'd forgiven him. As he'd forgiven her. She did not deserve such forgiveness, as always, the thought came floating in her mind as she looks over at him. Currently, the two stood at the foothills of the icy Death Mountain. His gaze seemed steady enough but he was trembling. Was it from the bitter cold? Or was it from the cool waters of fear threatening to freeze over his sharp mind? She could not tell, for one who was so easy to read, at times even Hilda found herself wondering what went through his mind. More than likely, she thinks to herself grimly, he's worried about that.
It'd been the steady emergence of one rumor in particular that caused the two to set out. The return of the Master Sword. It was a bold enough rumor to start for a tool forged by holy hands and not many were foolish enough to even spread any lies about the sword. The weapon had been spotted by a random group of hikers. (With the steady restoration of Lorule, many had come to seek out what the once ruined lands had to offer.) A glimpse of it, they'd claim, but there was a sort of energy that radiated off from it, not of this world. And though it was easy to found doubt within that, Hilda still wished to check it out and Ravio had insisted on tagging along. She was all too aware of what that mark on his hand entailed and his feelings regarding his destiny. And she understood him. Understood whatever emotions he may be feeling with this journey in particular. She wished to place a comforting hand on his shoulder. To smile at him and tell him that everything will be alright. Hilda does not. Because she didn't know how to. The right things to do, the right things to say, in order to soothe his anxious heart; it was all foreign to the girl that never received solace from anyone. Hilda only looks to him, her stare, impassive, despite the whirlwind of worries raging through her thoughts. Her hand clutches around the worn map and instead, she opts to look up the mountain. With the wind biting Hilda's face the air brought up dark hair around her, obscuring her vision of him.
For a while, a long, long, while she did not speak.
"You," she starts. "You do not have to do this. You can stay behind, away from this place. I will not hold it against you."
She did hold something against him, once, before deciding that she will no longer resent Ravio for whatever choice he may make that goes against hers. He knew what he was doing, she did not. His prudence was something she'd value more, in the end.
"I cannot claim whether or not this myth holds, however, I wish bring whatever falsity to light. If there is a sword up there, then I will not lay a finger on it. I will not even tell you of its existence if it will make you feel less fear."
@lorulelegend | let’s freaking go