In Pieces

     “… W-what?” He replied DUMBLY, lashes fluttering wildly as he stared at her in confusion.

     What kind of rules were those? How did she expect him to CATCH the item as she requested with such strict parameters? To move only when she did… Despite the strangeness in rules, Link steeled himself with determination, giving her a nod to express his understanding, despite the understanding part being a little LACKING.

     Mirroring her own movement in reverse, he stepped FORWARD in tandem, hand reaching out in an attempt to snatch the cloth which dangled teasingly out of his reach. She was too far away, but to take the extra steps in closing that gap meant breaking the rules– and curse his legs, shorter than the average Hylian he supposedly SHARED ancestry with. Why couldn’t he have grown taller?

    “This doesn’t seem fair.” He mumbled with a frown, though he hadn’t given up, not in the slightest.

She almost giggled at that, hopping back again, and then stepping to the left. Keeping the rhythm as she danced about him, keeping the cloth just out of reach.

"It's not meant to be fair. It's meant to teach."

Again, she moved. Left. Right. Back. Back again, keeping her movements as random as he could. Throwing off any sense of pattern, the cadence of her steps aside.

"But if you're that sour about it, let me add a rule; once you pick up on the rhythm, you can make the first move."

Sitting, meditating, hadn't been working. But there were other ways to tap into the rhythm of magic. To capture the flow.

And Link, as physically-oriented as he was, was probably more suited to their current exercise than quiet and stillness.

Tagged by: @luxaeterna​

The healer looked incredibly troubled. Even her magic was telling her that something was drastically wrong here, “It’s… most likely the malice causing his erratic behavior, but… why? What would be the cause?” She murmured before shaking her head.

“We should go after him to make sure he isn’t a danger to other people. The clan will only put up with so much Princess, even on your orders. If he hurts someone in this state…” Her voice trailed off. They both knew what that would mean for Sheik. They had to find him before something bad happened.

                                                                  —-

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The entire way through the village, asking about, gathering information on her brother’s whereabouts, the feeling of disquiet only grew. Something was very wrong here. Something that was doing her more than just concern.

Her proverbial hackles were beginning to rise, as they drew closer and closer to her destination, and the sense of corruption, of wrongness, increased. It was all she could do not to summon a fistful of bright magic right then and there, and wipe away the trail. Cleanse the world of the stuff.

By the time she reached the door of the barn, her fingers were itching with need, and her heart was hammering against her ribs. Still, she managed to pause, fingers curled about the handle of the door, forcing herself to breathe steadily. To focus.

“What could he want in here?”

As far as she knew, the only things in the barn at this time of night would be livestock, and perhaps a few cats, mousing their way around the perimeter. Certainly nothing that would interest the Malice... right?

    “Well, at least someone does,” Julia chuckled lightly. She didn’t want to think too deeply about the compliment. This was neither the time, nor the place to fret about such matters. However, for some unexplained reason, Julia is happy that Zelda thinks so highly of her. She isn’t quite sure why either. Perhaps it was just nice to be acknowledged, but the feeling ran even deeper than that.

   And she doesn’t quite know where it’s coming from. Still, she can’t hide the grin on her face. However, as quickly as it was there it had disappeared. There were other matters to worry about.

    “I’d appreciate that. Like I said, it’s not that I… actively hate my sisters or anything, but I’d just… appreciate the company. They can be a little overbearing,” Julia murmured. Overbearing was putting it lightly, honestly. Lana on her own was a destructive force of organization, “Also, don’t worry about dinner. I’ll cook. It’ll save me the trouble of having to scarf down another greasy hamburger.”

   There’s a long pause before Julia continued, egged on by Zelda’s comment.

  “.… If you really want help with orchids, I could… call Faro, but she… She can be hard to get a hold of. She’s…” There’s a very long sigh, “All my sisters can be kind of… weird? Yeah, that’s the best way of putting it.”

Oh, no. Open mouth, insert foot, yet again. Hastily, she waved the suggestion off, nearly slopping coffee all over her jacket in the process.

"Nah, that's all right. They're just a little fussy, I can... I raise them, it's... you know, plants can travel just about anywhere with you. Pet restrictions don't apply, and all."

Doing her best to play it off, she took another sip.

"I'll, umm... show you sometime, if you'd like. I have a couple that are pretty cool, actually. Had 'em for a while, now. They can be a challenge to take care of, but, y'know, I kinda like it. It's like... it's a little like my tech work; a puzzle to solve."

The instant the words were out of her mouth, she regretted them; was she really going to take this not-a-hair-out-of-place, going-somewhere girl back to her hellhole of a workshop?

"I-if you want to, that is. It's... it's kind of a mess, my place. I don't get many visitors so..."

With a shrug and a noncomittal noise, she buried her face in the cup again.

     He listened to her shift, lightly startled at the sudden TOUCH of her hand to his, but the jerk was quick to relax as he merely followed her instructions. All that she spoke of… the… connection of the world, how everything overlapped with one another– it didn’t quite make SENSE to him. Try as he may, it was a difficult concept to grasp at it’s core. Words were nice, poetic even, but Link failed to truly dig deep and UNDERSTAND it all so thoroughly.

     Still, he tried, felt the tickle of grass against his palm, the dampness of cool soil at his fingertips, listened to the breeze which RUSTLED the trees in an unsteady rhythm of flow. No magical revelation came to present itself to the fallen hero, regardless of how intently he listened, and persistently, that knee continued to bounce with IMPATIENCE.

     “… Umm…” Carefully did he peer an eye open, sparing a glance around as though in search of whatever was supposed to HIT him. “… Am I… supposed to be breathing… with the wind…?” Was that how it was done?

Sucking her lower lip into her mouth and gnawing at it, she let out a little hum of consternation.

He was... not doing well with this, was he? Perhaps she was going about things wrong.

"Mmm. That's... not quite it. Let's try something else. Here."

Standing and brushing grass from her lap, she offered him a hand up, before reaching up to untie the bandana at her throat. Twining it between her fingers, she gave it a little wave.

"I want you to try and get this from me. But... there's a catch. You can only move when I do. Get it?"

Hopefully, he did; if he couldn't find the rhythm himself, then maybe she could help dial him into it. Could help him to feel it.

"All right. Let's start."

She waits very patiently, allowing him to tuck the flower in securely, before reaching up to pat at it curiously.

Her face breaks into a grin, at last, and she wraps him up in a grateful, warm hug.

Yarrow and marigold… That didn’t sound too expensive to make, but the fact that it was his own creation had her worrying there was something more in there. Not that it was being used to hurt her, but how much would it cost to replace and how could she make it up to him? Kindness like that wasn’t something that was freely given. Not anymore, at least.

Surprisingly delicate fingers brushed along the wounds, but there was no shock of pain now. Just a slight twist in her gut as Malon realized that Sheik was easily able to place what had caused them. “A whip?” Teeth sank down into her lower lip as she held back from answering for… just a moment. What could she even say?

Yes. A whip.

“… the stablemaster doesn’t like it when things aren’t done… to his standards. H-he isn’t a cruel man,” Malon added hastily with a small, nervous laugh. “He just expects good work.”

Irritation lodged under her skin like a splinter, and it took effort to keep her voice level and calm.

"That sounds quite a lot like a cruel man to me, Miss."

Wiping the last of the ointment away on the hem of her tabard, she started in on covering the wounds, adhering strips of bandage to the messy ointment and tacking down the ends with a smear of salve from another small jar.

"But I'm not familiar with the way the ranch works, so perhaps it isn't my place to say so."

The rest of her work, she finished in silence, listening to the drum of rain on the roof. The shifting of animals in their stalls. The gentle rhythm of her surroundings, and anything that might break it.

...which for now, proved to be nothing.

Moonhigh. Right. So the first sign of the moon, then. Shi had gotten used to Zelda’s ambitious statements and her willingness to underestimate the exhaustion and injuries her body had undergone all in the name of– not wanting to make waves? Not wanting to hold anyone back? It was… admirable, he supposed, but also incredibly idiotic on her part. 

“I can carry you.” He mused that out softly and almost paused to get her to climb up onto his back. It would have been faster, but she would protest and complain and insist that she didn’t need to be treated that way. 

Hnn.

“– if you start really stumbling then I will.” A slight (but gentle) threat as Shi tightened the grip of his arm around her waist, ensuring she stayed close. 

“Where do you want to go?” Where was safe? Through the woods they could go… most anywhere. Or even stay there. Travel too deep and they’d run the risk of entering into the lost woods, but Shi was certain that whatever dangers they posed were less than the dangers of the cult they were escaping. And the lost woods did provide ways to all corners of Hyrule itself.

"Mmm..."

Where did she want to go? Home, really. But... where was "home?" And would going to them put a target on their backs?

There was so much she didn't know about the state of things... and too much for her tired mind to consider.

"Need to find... allies. These... this bunch..."

Her head swiveled back toward the opening of the tunnel, and she frowned.

"...sneaky. They... get in everywhere. Should find... people who know how... to sneak... better."

Which left two options, as far as she could see it. Neither of which were entirely safe. But... what would be, really?

Ruto had her suspicions, but suspicions were not enough for her to be willing to hang herself from. If she was right… what would that earn her? Until the other was ready, there would be no forcing her to reveal herself. And if she was wrong? Then it would put the Zora in unnecessary and unwanted danger. 

“… She picked me for a task, and I’m uncertain if I was the right person for it.” Uncertainty and unease were not comfortable or familiar sensations for the Princess, but on this topic she felt anything but secure in the decision that had been made. 

“– But I suppose that we all have questions that we wish could be answered. Dealing with the uncertainties and moving past them are just another part of life. I’m sure you know that well, Acris.”

The statement was just a bit too pointed, but Ruto was– tired. Adrenaline had kept her from feeling the exhaustion that had wormed its way beneath her skin, but now that things were calm and she could breath she found herself wishing for a cool pool to rest and sleep in. 

It was a pointed question, and she couldn't help but laugh, a wry smile curling the corner of her mouth.

How many times, in the wake of things, had she asked herself the same question? Expressed the same doubts? The more things changed, she supposed...

"I do. But... I also think that some questions... just... don't have answers. Sometimes, the universe just..."

She waved a hand absently through the air above the cot, drawing no shape in particular with her fingers.

"...moves. And we're forced to move with it. There's... no standing still... when the tide decides to turn. I don't need to tell you that, though. You... probably know that... better than anyone."

It was a terrible joke, and she knew it. But she couldn't stop herself, the wry grin only growing, for a moment or two, before she dismissed it with a little sigh.

The man hardly seemed phased by the anger that she was throwing at him. Foul mouths and bad moods were par for the course here. Perhaps that was just the price that they had to pay in order to try to bring Ganondorf back from where he was sealed. Dark work didn’t tend to bring anything but foreboding with it, but it would pay off in the end. They would be well rewarded for the suffering they endured in order to bring him back.

“This area is only for the acolytes. What you doing down here?” He frowned as he reached out, nudging at the hem of her cloak with the tip of his (sheathed) sword. 

“Got something special under there?” The frown turned into a sharp-edged grin, laced with ill-intent. “Maybe if ya show me what you have I might forget I saw you here.”

He wasn’t entirely referring to what she was actually carrying beneath it, if the expression was anything to go off of.

She wanted to curl her lip in disgust. To seize him by his filthy throat and dash his head against the stone.

But much as she wanted to burn the whole place to the ground, she had a job to do. She could return on her own time, on her own terms.

So for now, she forced her face into a leer to match his own, shifting slightly to let the bottom of the cloak drift open, just a bit. To reveal a stretch of knee. Of thigh. To reveal the hilt of her own blade, poking just beyond the edge of the cape.

"Oh, aye? What exactly is it that you think you'll find, up there? Hmm?"

A knife, was the answer; the one strapped to her forearm beneath her sleeve, probably. All it would take was a quick flick to displace the clasp. To send it sliding down into her palm, and from there, into his throat.

But he didn't need to know that. For now.

The weather was starting to turn, and soon it would reach a time where lighting a fire would be unavoidable, but Impa was happy to avoid that risk for as long as possible. It would be fine. It had been fine before and it would continue to be; they were hardly the only ones living on the road and were hardly the only people who would use the warmth of a campfire to keep from freezing at night. 

Logic never played well with emotional fears, though. And they were fine without a fire. They were fine with just cold, dried food. Warm meals were a luxury that they could ill afford to indulge in.

Impa watched Zelda fumbling around in her pack with a look of mild amusement. A slight nod at the presentation of the (stale) bread. It would… offset eating just fish, at least. 

“Is this everything you imagined?” No complaint had come from her, but Impa could see the moments were she had to almost physical reroute her thoughts. She was quite good at it, but there was no way to completely hide or erase the princess she had once been. “Training. Traveling.”

Pausing in the midst of tidying, she gave the question a bit of thought, absently winding a thin coil of rope around her forearm.

“Training? Yes. I expected things to be hard. Not cruel-hard, just... hard. But traveling?”

A little laugh, as she tied the coil off and looped the loose end through itself, lashing it to the side of her pack.

“Does one ever expect to be pursued across the country by the agents of a dark king? ”

Not even with her foresight... her childlike optimism hadn’t allowed her to consider the possibility that they might lose. That the Kingdom might fall into the hands of their enemy. That wasn’t what happened in the stories, after all; the Heroes always triumphed.

She supposed, this time, that it would just... take a little more time than it usually did.

“But it’s all right. If this is what it takes to prepare... to win... I’ll bear it all. I’ll do it. Besides...”

A moment to hoist the pack, to readjust the straps, and she was grinning wryly again, settling the collar of her coat back into place.

She watched the actions of the dragon with muted apprehension. Nothing the creature had so far done suggested that it was violent or dangerous, but Zelda still felt it would be foolhardy of her to rest easy on the assumption that it wasn’t a dangerous wild beast. The small bit of difficulties in communicating wasn’t helping, either. There was no way for her to be absolutely certain she was fully understanding the creature’s intentions. 

… but there was no mistaking that mark on her paw. Er, foot? Scales.

“That’s the…” Zelda moved to rub at the back of her own hand, an unconscious gesture of the vaguely uncomfortable sensation that was beginning to prickle up beneath her skin. “But… that mark… I’ve never heard of it appearing in an animal before. Or a… beast. A creature. A non-Hylian. Why do you…?”

That was not a yes or no question. That was not something the dragon could easily answer.

Her ears flattened at “creature,” but she forced herself to prick them back up, one at a time; much as it hurt, she... had been forced out of her usual form. She wasn’t a Hylian, anymore.

Not physically, anyway.

As she had no way of answering the flood of questions, she simply dipped her head, letting out a warm whuff of breath and folding her wings more tightly about herself.

They stayed like that for some time. Sheik’s senses gazed over again and he was left feeling… foggy. Time isn’t really real in this state. The only thing he feels or registers is an intent need for something.

When he opens his eyes next, it’s because he feels something staring at him again— something with malicious intent. His eyes dart to the young lady who had been with him before— it seems at some point they’d fallen asleep on the bed together. She was still fast asleep.

“She doesn’t know what you need, but we do,” A voice hummed. Sheik jumped visibly at the noise and turned, but of course nothing was there. Yes, the girl said no one had been there, “Do you not believe us? We know what you need— we know what you are—“

“What I… am…?” Sheik rasped out. He didn’t really understand, but something stirs in his chest.

“Yes, we will show you what you need. Follow the sound of our voice,” The voice ordered. Sheik’s face twisted as he looked down at the girl who had fallen asleep next to him. Ah, she looked so pale and weary, and so deeply asleep…

He would find out what he needed from the voice and then return. It… wouldn’t take long, right? Quietly he snuck out of bed– his body feels stiff– like it hasn’t moved in months. It takes a great deal of difficulty to actually make it to the door and out of the house, but all the while the ominous voice beckoned him.

By the time the healer returned the sky was already begin to tint pink. The healer only sees Zelda lying peacefully in the bed– her patient no where to be found. In a panic, she desperately shakes Zelda awake.

“Princess! Princess, wake up!” Her voice was frantic, “Sheik’s gone! I didn’t think that would even be possible in his state! We have to find him…!”

For once, she hadn’t dreamed. No creeping shadows or snarling beasts had broken her rest and, desperate for real sleep, her mind was loathe to let it go.

But the healer’s persistence won out (far too slowly for the woman’s taste, most likely,) and she blinked awake, staring uncomprehendingly up into the medic’s face.

“Wait, uhh...?”

The pieces of her mind were slow to fit back together, but when they did, she was on her feet in a flash, eyes darting about in a near-panic.

“I-!!!”

But there would be time for apologies and explanations later. Right now, she had a brother to find.

Forcing herself to breathe, to scrape together calm from the storm in her gut, she knelt, pressing a hand to the floor. Extending her sixth sense, and reading the flow of magic in the room. The impressions left by Sheik’s departure. 

Yes, there they were. The familiar, red-lily-soft-dark-fur-warm-blanket “footsteps” of her brother... mingled with something... wrong. Oily-rotten-hungry-wrong.

Despite herself, her brows drew together into a frown.

“I have a trail. But it’s...”

She shook her head, tongue popping out to skim her lips nervously.

     Gingerly, he followed her lead, sitting before her and mirroring her position. One learned best by IMITATION at first, after all, at least until he grasped the gist of the concept. Lashes slipped shut, and deeply did he breathe in, chest expanding with lungfuls of air before exhaling just as slow. It was soothing, strange enough, and vaguely did he feel himself RELAX.

     He felt himself loosen up, and it was only then that he realized just how TENSE he always was– always on edge, on guard against the rest of the world and unwilling to lower it for anyone who wasn’t the runaway princess before him. Still, he wasn’t entirely lax, the tension merely SHIFTING from tense shoulders to a now bouncing knee as anticipation and anxiety manifested itself in the manner of fidgeting in place.

     “O-okay… breathing…” He mumbled, proceeding to breathe IN (1… 2… 3… 4…) and OUT (1… 2… 3… 4…).

Opening one eye, she watched him twitch and fidget in place, fighting back a little sigh, before reminding herself how hard it had been for her to sit still, at first, as well.

For a moment or two, she watched. Listened, herself. Allowed him time to settle into the rhythm of breath; in. Out. In. Out.

“Now,” she finally murmured, rising onto her knees and reaching out to gently pick up one of his hands, pressing it into the soft earth of the hilltop, “Keep the rhythm of your breath in mind. Keep counting it. And... listen for it all around you, as well. Feel it in your fingertips. In your palm.”

It wasn’t that she thought little of herself – no more so, at least, than any other person did – but it was simply that there was no denying that she was a bit out of her depth here. And this was important! More important than anything else that she had ever dealt with before. 

But Zelda was certain that she wouldn’t do any harm to her position, and Malon was determined to believe that if Zelda believed it. 

She squeezed the princess’ hand tightly before offering her up a small smile. The inquiry couldn’t last too long and the ministers would have to see the truth! They would be blind and fools if they continued to stubbornly refuse what was right before their eyes.

… at least, that was what Malon thought prior to the inquiry.

The instant the doors closed behind them, she collapsed against the wooden surface, letting out a whoosh of breath, and sagging, head tipped back against the polished pine.

“Well, that went...”

Not... “well,” precisely. There had been far too much shouting for that. Far too many lost tempers, accusations leveled, fingers pointed. At one point, she’d even come close to disrobing right there, in front of the assembled lords, ladies, and renns of the Realm, to show the vicious scars lining her back.

But in the end, all things considered, she’d gotten off quite well; hobbled by the installation of a Regent Council until her twenty-first birthday, yes, and stripped of a good deal of authority, but... not banished. Not imprisoned. 

And if her opponents were patting themselves on the back, this evening, for having “defanged” her, well... they had another thing coming.

But that was a fight for another time. She ran a hand through her hair, fingers raking her scalp as if to scrub off the day.

“...better than I expected. But, Gods, I could murder a man for a tankard of cider.”

Heaving herself up off of the door and extending an elbow, she put on a lopsided grin, one brow raised rakishly.

“Care to accompany me, my lady?”