#Some fluff intermixed because I am incapable of writing pure angst

[silentprincess17]

Sometimes Things Have to Get Worse Before They Get Better

This is essentially a darker, heavier alternate take on Memory #7 - Blades of the Yiga. I wanted to write a fic with a competent Yiga Clan. (Yes you read that right). It is very angsty in the beginning and then becomes fluffy (hence the title!)

Summary: Link and Zelda have returned from Vah Naboris with Urbosa and have spent the night in Kara Kara Bazaar Inn. Link wakes up and finds her missing.

Cue the angst.

This story is complete and I will post each chapter daily on here but you can read the whole thing on AO3

Rating: Mature (Graphic descriptions of violence) Pairing: Link/Zelda (Zelink) Characters: Link, Zelda, The Yiga Clan, Master Kohga

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6

Chapter 7: Dawn of the Second Day

TW: Huge wounds, massive haemorrhage (a lot of blood loss yes I am a medic geek) and pain. Also Nintendo owns Legend of Zelda and some of the dialogue used. Please don't sue me.

This time, they teleported in, grabbed him, and teleported out.

Zelda screamed his name, but it got lost in the vortex of red paper slips, as he felt his insides split apart and then reform.

He was glad though. Incredibly glad that they’d taken him and not his Princess. He ended up on the floor, in the big arena that wasn’t an arena and he coughed, trying to get the sand out of his mouth, and eyes.

He heard Zelda shouting for him, and it suddenly hit him-this was it. The perfect opportunity. He could try and get her out. He was outside Hylia above!

And just as he thought that, four giant metal clamps locked onto his limbs. And that same cursed red glowing thing was applied so he couldn’t move. He swore at them but stopped struggling. He would have to bide his time, he already felt a little weak from not eating for three days, so every store of energy was precious right now. He had to wait for the perfect opportunity and then unleash it all.

He took a moment to try and calm down. Think things through. He was outside the cell, that was better than being inside. He just had to be observant and careful. He started by trying to determine what their motive was, but he wasn’t sure what was happening. Why had they decided to take him out, if they were only going to restrain him down again?

He looked up, at least they hadn’t clamped his neck. And then a… well. There was no polite way to think of him, if Link was being honest. And frankly, being polite was really quite low down in his list of concerns at the minute.

The Yiga Clan were... normally, at least, easily categorisable. All the Yiga Foot soldiers were thin, agile, capable of moving at lightning speed with their teleportation. The Blademasters were by comparison much larger, and they wielded the more powerful windcleaver. And now he knew of the researchers, but they looked a lot like the Foot soldiers, just with a red lab coat on.

This man… although dressed as a Yiga, didn’t match one of the above categories. He was, well, fat. He had a huge abdomen, which Link didn’t really see working in a fight, either with a sickle or a windcleaver and he was confused really. It was the most bizarre thing he’d seen since arriving.

Link wondered if the lack of food was getting to him.

“Yeah, IT'S YOU! You're that Link guy I've been looking for! And the Princess of course but she’s BORING."

Uh… what? This guy had been… looking… for him? Not to sound egoistical, but wasn’t it really obvious who he was? He literally wore bright blue and had the Master Sword strapped to his back. Admittedly, he didn’t have those two things right now but…

"I need to bust out my serious moves... A secret technique taught by my mother's father! It will...destroy you!"

Uh yeah. It probably would do that because Link was currently strapped to the floor with no weapons. So, whatever this guy chose to do, it would, in all likelihood, work by default.

“Release him from the magnesis bonds! NO WAIT! I need to finish my speech first!”

This man was starting to get on Link’s nerves, like a bratty child who wanted a sweet. But he just said to release his bonds. Yes, if that happened, he would destroy them all, steal all their weapons, physically break down those bars, rescue his Princess and then hightail it out of the desert. So, he would remain calm. Collected. And not think of what happened yesterday.

“Now. Hero of Hyrule. I will DUEL you. So someone told someone who told someone yada yada yada that I should give you a fair chance, and something testing something Princess, I'm not sure, I fell asleep half-way through, so here we are. Of course, you’re a KNIGHT so I assume you know what a DUEL is!"

Link remained silent. He figured it probably wouldn't work in his favour if he started to laugh.

"You know, your silence really is unnerving. ANYWAY, I will fight with my chosen weapons, and you will be provided with a Duplex Bow, ten arrows, a Vicious Sickle and a Windcleaver. A very generous selection, in my opinion. If you defeat me, I will allow you to walk away.” Link’s eyes widened. “YES, WALK AWAYYY!” He laughed, “I won’t kill you to DEATH! Even-if-that's-what-I-really-want-can-you-imagine-being-named-Top-Banana-Of-The-Yiga-Clan-comma-Slayer-Of-The-Hero!”

Okay yeah, there was clearly something wrong with this guy, but Link focussed on the important parts. A Duel. Of which the outcome would be freedom. But. He hadn’t mentioned Zelda. No matter, Link would be a fool not to accept. He’d defeat this fat lug and then Kill. Them. All.

And those Blademasters that had stood on that cursed table? He’d make sure to find his sword and would ensure they suffered a slow, prolonged death. But first, he’d win, take Zelda to the Castle where she’d be safe, and then he’d come back. And exterminate them like the rats they were.

He nodded.

They dropped the connection, freeing him, and he didn’t try anything. Not yet anyway. Once they gave him weapons though, Link would forgo whatever pact he’d made with this man. This didn’t count as an honourable situation anyway, this wasn’t a duel between Knights, it was a duel between captor and captee.

What he hadn’t been expecting, was the fat man to throw a small capsule in the middle of the hole, and the capsule didn’t fall, no, it hovered in place. And the outlines of a dome formed, it extended from the centre of the seemingly bottom-less hole and spread out to include a small ring of sand around said hole. All of a sudden, sound seemed to stop coming through, and he could barely hear Zelda, although maybe she’d come to realise it was futile and had gone quiet.

The capsule made a clicking noise, like an activation of something, and then a burst of red light cascaded from it, down the dome, forming a crimson-lined grid along the surface, almost like red electricity was crawling along the lines. They connected to metal ridges that Link hadn’t even noticed in the sand. He swallowed. He knew, instinctively, that he wouldn’t be able to escape. He wouldn’t be able to get out. Because it was the same thing that had trapped him in those cuffs.

It would have to be honourable. By default.

Still, Link wasn’t feeling that scared. If the fat man wanted a duel, Link would give it to him.

“In the name of Calamity Ganon!” He pranced around, shimmying from one foot to the other. "That's what you say when you start a DUEL right?!"

Link decided to ignore him, and simply looked over to where he thought the Princess was, the red light made it hard to see. “In the name of Princess Zelda Bosphoramus Hyrule, my charge, my liege… my Princess.” And his heart whispered one more thing, my soulmate.

It had started out well enough, the man simply summoned rocks at him, not unlike an octorok, but these ones were considerably larger, with a glowing upside down Sheikah eye on them. Still, he dispatched the obnoxious man in quick time, shooting a well-timed arrow into his head, and then jumping in bullet-time to attack with the sickle.

And then the fat man got angry, stamping his foot into the ground like a child having a tantrum. He moved to hover on top of the hole, and this time he had a blue barrier. Link had wasted one arrow hitting it, only for it to bounce right off. Useless. And there was no way for Link to jump in, seeing as he was without his paraglider and he'd fall down anyway, not sideways to the centre of the abyss where the man was.

So, he bid his time, going as far back as possible and decided to just observe the attack. He remained calm, although for some reason he was a little more flustered than he ordinarily was. Perhaps because the Princess’s safety relied on this fight. Yes, that wasn’t an unusual occurrence, but normally, she’d be hidden, well-protected, should anything go wrong with him. This time… If he failed, then who knew what the consequences would be.

He refocussed, the next move simply involved two rocks hovering horizontally and then vertically to the man, where his barrier faulted for a split second, just before he chucked them at Link. It was easy enough to dodge, and now Link knew what to do. He simply hit the man when the barrier was down, and the Yiga lost control of the rocks, so they hit him instead. After another couple of rounds, where Link looked worryingly at his meagre five remaining arrows, another tantrum fest occurred, this time jumping up and down with one foot whilst floating. Link rubbed his eyes in case he was hallucinating. No, he wasn’t.

And that is where everything went wrong.

The man was now using that accursed red thing to move a giant metal ball at him. The ball had spikes. Huge ones at that. And despite Link keeping his eyes trained on the man, his barrier did not fall. Not once.

Crap.

How?! How could the Yiga mentally control metal?! How was he supposed to defeat him now?

The spiked sphere continued to crawl after him, a slow and steady reminder of what was coming. Link was trying hard not to panic. What else could he do? He didn’t have any of his other weapons. He didn’t have shock arrows. He didn’t have his bomb bag. Maybe he could parry the sphere? But he didn’t have a shield either. He cried, almost, thinking back to his prized Hylian shield sitting in the Inn at Kara Kara Bazaar.

What else what else what else

He knew one thing for certain though. He wouldn’t be able to keep up running forever. Not as weak as he currently was from all the stresses over the past two days and the lack of food. Yes, the sphere moved slowly. But it moved. And eventually he would tire.

The man took back the sphere and Link aimed, hoping his barrier would come down for one second, but no. All he did was pause before sending the sphere. Straight. Back. At. Him.

Goddesses above he wouldn’t last.

Was this his true Hero trial?

Was this how he would die?

He decided to try to use the windcleaver to generate some gush of air that would what? Move the giant ball? He was crazy enough to at least attempt because what else could he do? None of his weapons would even reach the man, even if he chucked them, let alone penetrate the seemingly solid blue barrier.

He ran to the edge of the dome, hoping to be a little out of the ball's range to give him some breathing room should this go wrong, but he had no such luck, because it came, hard and fast for him. He waited until it came close then swung the blade down and tried to repel it.

It obviously failed; no colossal, incredibly heavy, metallic sphere was going to shift with the mere power of air.

Belatedly, he realised that the fat man could afford to be fat. Who was going to hurt him if he could levitate himself out into a pit of no end so there was no hope of reaching him, put up a barrier that you had no hope of penetrating, trap you in a hemisphere so you were effectively at his mercy and was armed with a deadly weapon only he could control?

Link only had just about enough time to turn, for his fingers to hit the dome, before the spikes rammed into his back and Link heard himself scream.

He was used to pain, he thought distantly. He’d hurt himself so many times, from climbing accidents, to training mishaps, to when he’d first started fighting monsters, especially those Goddess damned Lynel swords, oh, wait, no, the crushers were worse.

But he’d never had enormous sharp cones ram into his back, upper thigh and calves, all at once. He was effectively pinned against the dome. And then the ball was pulled out, and shoved right back in.

And again.

And again.

And then for flavour, the fat man shifted it just to the right, so now his wounds grew and grew, until he was slowly ripped apart, until the only thing actually holding him upright was the metal sphere.

Link lost track of everything. He’d never felt so humiliated, so weak.

He’d never lost a fight.

What would happen now? What would happen to him and Zelda?

He felt wet, lethargic and so, so heavy. Which struck him as odd, especially considering he’d probably lost a lot of blood. Shouldn’t he be light?

Little spots of blackness coated his vision, somehow he blinked and he was on the floor, on his knees, the dome gone, his hands shaking trying to hold himself up. His blood rushed through his ears, thundering too loudly, and everything else was muted, muffled, and he could no longer focus properly.

"-oga! Did you se- I did i-"

Link must have blacked out again, because the next thing he knew he was being hauled by his armpits back into the cell, and his injuries were stretched even more, and Link screeched in pain. He was so far gone it was silent, and he lost consciousness yet again, because he practically fell on top of Zelda, landing on his front, in her arms. She was shaking, maybe? Or was it him? Probably him, but he couldn’t tell, and he heard her furiously mutter under her breath about hypo-something shock, but really, he was barely holding onto the few remaining threads of consciousness he had.

“Link?” She sounded frightened, but he couldn’t bring himself to respond. Instead, when he opened his mouth, he coughed up an alarming amount of blood. He felt some of it dribble down his chin and he heard her half scream in response.

“LINK! No! In - name of Hylia st- with me! Link!” She gently held his head in her hands, his head rolling in her hold because he'd now lost what little control he had over his muscles. He focussed on the softness of her touch, and how it contrasted so deeply to the agony that he was in, although everything was dulled around the edges right now, probably from the blood loss. He stared at the growing pool of bright crimson around them, it seemed to be coming from everywhere. Like he was a dam that had suffered too many hits and now all the water was leaking through. That wasn’t that far from the truth to be fair.

“Zel-” He tried to say something, to reassure her that he would fight to stay awake. But it ended in another, harsher, coughing fit, and it felt like Daruk had grasped his chest in his hands and squeezed. Dear Goddesses, he felt his vision start to fade again, it was already half faded, in all honesty. And it scared him, because this wasn't the same blackness he'd had after being knocked cold from a fight. This was darker, more permeating. It felt... more permanent.

She cried, and it pained him to see her tears for him, but the blackness forced its way upon him, and he slowly closed his eyes, trying his hardest not to give in, but even from the start he knew it was a losing battle. Vaguely he wondered if the sword would remember him. He wondered what would happen to his family, to Hyrule, to her, if there was no Hero for the Calamity. He wondered, if he'd had more time, more courage, if he and Zelda could have-

She cradled his head in her arms, gently brushing his matted hair away from his forehead, and he allowed himself a final deep breath, for her lavender to imprint in his mind one last time.

Link was not... scared of death. He knew it was inevitable, and there was a significant probability of him dying, either in the line of duty to the Crown, or against the Calamity, his destiny-chosen battle. But... he was scared now. He was scared of what the consequences of him dying meant. Her verdant eyes stared at him, and she was saying something but he could no longer hear. She was his biggest regret, he couldn't stomach leaving her, here and now, because who knew what horrors would await her once he left. So much guilt, so much shame, so much despair hit him, in the final moment but there was nothing left to he done. He tried to convey that to her, through his gaze, that he was sorry, for not being enough, for not doing enough, for failing to get her out of here- the list continued, but he was rapidly losing what little control he had left, and he felt his eyes glaze over. He’d seen enough death to know where he stood. Because everything ached, he felt increasingly weaker, and his breathing grew progressively more ragged, as stabs of pain shot up his ribs for every centimetre he inhaled in.

He gasped for air, one final time, trying to commit her to his memory, and that seemed to be the very last assault his body could handle. Because within seconds he lost all sense of the world, his final thought was of his silent princess, and of a lullaby, that would forever haunt him till the end of time.

[silentprincess17]

Sometimes Things Have To Get Worse Before They Get Better

This is essentially a darker, heavier alternate take on Memory #7 - Blades of the Yiga. I wanted to write a fic with a competent Yiga Clan. (Yes you read that right). It is very angsty in the beginning and then becomes fluffy (hence the title!)

Summary: Link and Zelda have returned from Vah Naboris with Urbosa and have spent the night in Kara Kara Bazaar Inn. Link wakes up and finds her missing.

Cue the angst.

This story is complete and I will post each chapter daily on here but you can read the whole thing on AO3

Rating: Mature (Graphic descriptions of violence) Pairing: Link/Zelda (Zelink) Characters: Link, Zelda, The Yiga Clan, Master Kohga

Chapter 1: Everything goes wrong when you don't have breakfast

Link was having a bad morning. He’d missed breakfast, a cardinal sin, and now he was anxiously darting around the Bazaar, weaving between the trees, in an attempt to see if he could spot a glimmer of blonde hair or a flash of a blue shirt.

She just had to run away. Again.

He sighed. It wasn’t that hard to understand why she constantly gave him the slip, even if he wished she didn’t. He knew it wasn’t fair of him to think such things, especially when he knew it wasn’t really him, she was running from, rather it the sword that was strapped to his back. It wasn’t him she was frustrated with, it was herself. And the sword symbolised how he was apparently fulfilling his destiny and his side of things, whilst she struggled endless with the stone-cold Hylia and had nothing to show for it. Essentially, the sword meant destiny and fate had already set out a predetermined plan for her, and she was currently set for failure. So yes, he could understand why she felt the need to escape what was surely a suffocating sight every day- the boy with the sword that has it all sorted, geared and ready to go, whilst she stumbled in the dark, Hylia’s Divine Blessing evading her.

If only she knew how much he struggled too. He didn’t just pull a sword out a rocky pedestal and boom morphed into Hyrule’s Saviour. He’d trained long and hard too. And frankly, he had felt compelled to draw the sword, it hadn’t been something that was in his control- if he had a choice, then he would also choose to just leave it be in the Lost Woods. It sounded naive and foolish now, but he hadn’t anticipated what the consequences would be when twelve-year-old Link had jumped up and wrapped his hands around that cursed mauve handle. Mostly, the thing he regretted the most about pulling the sword was that he’d effectively doomed them all. Did he want to be the one to basically foreshadow what was now surely coming? No. Another was that it had put a timer on the Princess to find her powers, and he didn’t want to cause her such anguish at being unable to unlock supposed birth-right sealing powers that she clearly didn’t have and didn’t know how to obtain. But… there had been a hidden consequence, one that he couldn’t for the life of him have predicted- when he released the sword from the pedestal, it didn’t just end with him now possessing the mythical legendary blade, oh no. He’d also obtained a whole wealth of memories, memories of past lives, past successes, past failures, and he’d lost whatever childish innocence he’d had then. And it crushed him, having this soul that apparently was doomed in this endless fight, and now he had to live up to them. He had to live up to these past Heroes and by Farore he had no idea if he’d be able to.

Every word that had come out of the Princess’s mouth at his blessing ceremony had cleaved him in two. All those past disastrous events that happened in Hyrule, and all the lengths his predecessors had gone to save the country… Adrift in time indeed. IN TIME. How was he supposed to do the same? And it made him fearful. And he was not easily frightened. He liked to think he was a little bit brave, he would run headfirst into any sort of challenge, be that eating rocks, defeating hordes of monsters, including Lynels, or even redirecting errant guardian laser beams but when he thought about what those Heroes had gone through… He certainty didn’t feel very brave when it came to imagining what exactly he’d have to do, what trials he would have to face, in line with theirs.

He finally finished strapping the sword properly to his back, he’d ran out as soon as he realised she was missing, and he tried to find any distinguishing patterns of her boots nearby. It was a useless venture, because sand shifted, constantly, and as a result any tracks were lost pretty much as soon as they formed. He sighed, deciding to do another very quick run through the Bazaar in case anyone else had spotted her, or she had come back from the baths maybe. He was clutching at straws, he knew it, and he felt that familiar churning feeling in his gut that something was wrong, but he decided to keep calm and check again just in case he’d missed something.

He sighed, even before Urbosa told him how the Princess’s behaviour was in fact coloured by the sword, he could have guessed. One of the biggest signs was that she always looked at it, instead of him. He only wished to tell her that he was just as lost as she was, because yeah sure, everyone Impa stated that he had the Sword that Seals The Darkness. Okay, but how did it do that? How does one go about killing darkness? Monsters he knew. Monsters he’d trained for. But darkness? And the thing that frightened him the most was that most of the past Heroes had fought a man. A power-obsessed, strong-willed and formidable opponent, but still, fundamentally, a man. None of them had fought this… Calamity equivalent that he seemed to be up against. Hence why he was uncertain, and fearful even, if the sword would be enough.

Not to mention how much it pained him that the arrogant idiot bird had managed to find his greatest insecurity, but that was neither here nor there.

But in truth, every time someone mentioned how he was their savour he wanted to cry. Perhaps she didn’t realise that whilst everyone had pinned her as a hopeless case and a lost cause, he’d been saddled with double the expectations to succeed. So much pressure, so many eyes, that he’d all but gone silent. Every word spoken could be misconstrued in some shape or form. Nothing he said was ever safe from scrutiny, so to continue to play the perfect, composed Hero that he was supposed to be, he decided to stop talking. What he wouldn’t give to explain to her that these praises that were lavished on him made him feel sick. Made him feel suffocated. Made him like a liar. Because really, he felt like a failure too- he had no plan other than maybe try and hit the darkness with the sword and hope that works. And the foreboding feeling he had that he hadn’t yet faced the supposedly impending huge trial that most of the other Heroes had, and they had all done said trial well before they obtained the Master Sword. He felt unworthy of it, somehow. All he’d done was train hard, fight and try to eradicate the plague of monsters in the land. He hadn’t travelled through time, he hadn’t transformed into a wolf, he hadn’t lost his sister, or his best friend. Hence why he was dreading meeting Ganon. There was a catch somewhere. He could feel it.

He exhaled heavily, sweat starting to build on his brow. This was why he wanted to tell Zelda that she wasn’t alone. That he knew what she was going through. They were a pair in destiny, fate… even souls after all. But she hated him, his very being, and probably wished he didn’t exist- no correction- she wished the sword didn’t exist, then he wouldn’t have pulled it and wouldn’t have become a direct comparator for her success. It all felt futile sometimes, and he wondered why exactly he was in such a melancholy mood this morning. Probably something to do with not eating.

She wasn’t in the Bazaar. He’d now checked over every stall twice. And Link felt rising trepidation. Of all the places for her to run away, she’d chosen the desert. She’d chosen where the main dissenters of the Royal Family lived. She chosen the one place where it was highly probable that there would be an assassination attempt on her. And he wasn’t there to protect her. Link could freely admit to himself he was scared. What if he didn’t find her in time, what if – No. He had to think positively. And then his eyes fell to his Champion’s tunic, embroidered, as it was, by her hand. Goddesses above, how would he present himself back the Castle if he’d actually lost her this time? And in such a worrisome place too. A stone settled in Link’s gut, as he desperately racked his brains, replaying last night’s events trying to remember if she’d dropped any hints as to where she was going.

He drew a big fat blank.

In the name of Din, where else could she have gone? She had been silent on the way back from Vah Naboris, probably reproachful that he’d managed to find her, yet again. And he had, admittedly, found it suspicious that she’d remained mum, accepted going to the Bazaar, and sleeping in the Inn, and leaving to head to Goron City the next day without a single word of dissent. He should have known that she was planning something.

And now, it was starting to get hot, as he quickly ran off towards the path, wondering if she’d gone back to Gerudo Town. But she’d already said her goodbyes to Urbosa last night... Link sighed, the heat already causing his tunic to stick to his back. It was a desert after all, one couldn’t expect it to get cold during the day, and he hadn’t had time to fill in their canteens, and oh for the love of Farore could he at least get a single sign as to where Her Highness had deigned to grace her presence at. He didn’t want to be beheaded for incompetence so soon.

He saw a small cloud of sand rise in the distance. At this point, it could be a mirage and he was seeing something that his mind had conjured in desperation at trying to find the missing Princess.

And then he saw a flash of red.

And his blood ran cold, despite the heat.

[silentprincess17]

Sometimes Things Have To Get Worse Before They Get Better

This is essentially a darker, heavier alternate take on Memory #7 - Blades of the Yiga. I wanted to write a fic with a competent Yiga Clan. (Yes you read that right). It is very angsty in the beginning and then becomes fluffy (hence the title!)

Summary: Link and Zelda have returned from Vah Naboris with Urbosa and have spent the night in Kara Kara Bazaar Inn. Link wakes up and finds her missing.

Cue the angst.

This story is complete and I will post each chapter daily on here but you can read the whole thing on AO3

Rating: Mature (Graphic descriptions of violence) Pairing: Link/Zelda (Zelink) Characters: Link, Zelda, The Yiga Clan, Master Kohga

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5

Chapter 6: Dusk of the First Day

TW: rope burns, emotional trauma.

They left her there

In the sun

With a shirt half ripped, mercy to the wind, sand and heat.

He didn’t know where to look.

He wanted to see if she was okay.

But he didn’t want to ruin whatever shred of dignity she had left.

So, he stood sideways. If anything moved into her vicinity he would know. Not like he could do much, but it would be better for him to at least know.

Would it though?

The guilt seared through him, branding him more than the wound under his eye could. He pressed his head against the bars. He felt so wrung out, so weak. He was used to fighting, to being able to actually do something. He’d never been so helpless before. The irony was that he’d received training to deal with interrogation in case the Yiga ever captured him. He’d been trained under Sheikah tutelage, specifically, about methods to hold in one’s emotions and pains whilst imprisoned by the enemy.

But… he had not received training for what to do when it was the Princess being tortured. Whilst he watched. Powerless. What was he supposed to do when the person whose life he was meant to defend with his own was being humiliated in such a vulgar way? The worst thing was that he’d completely and utterly failed to handle the responsibility he has given. She was entrusted to him by the King, and he had failed. He’d failed not only as her Appointed Knight, but as her supposed Hero, and that seared the most. Some counterpart he was to her soul if he couldn’t stop what was happening to her.

Eventually the same researchers came back, this time accompanied by some Yiga Foot soldiers. Link felt unbridled fury run rampant through him at the sight, because despite his fatigue, he still had enough strength to swear on the Golden Three he'd avenge her. He'd find them, and he'd make sure they regretted even setting eyes on his Princess.

"No change still. Hm. Prolonged exposure made no difference. Well, that's... good news. Let her down, now."

Link was extremely confused, at this whole scenario, but he ignored that, right now his focus would be on Zelda. And trying to help her. He pulled his tunic off and turned his gaze away from the world outside.

“Don’t fight Hero, or we’ll put her in chains. Don’t think we won’t. You might want to cover her up. Or maybe you’ll enjoy the sight too, not like she ever gave you much joy otherwise."

Link was too emotionally drained to pay much heed to their words, he'd already seen the clamps in their hands before they brought Zelda over and hence knew it was useless trying to intervene. The same thing that happened earlier today would repeat itself and this time Zelda would much closer and he just-

They snickered away, teleporting out once they shoved her in.

He didn’t look at her, couldn't bring himself to. He felt so ashamed. He offered his tunic to her, with his hand behind his back, still not looking.

He felt her take it.

And then he heard her sink to the floor.

He didn't know what to do. Did he try to step closer? He wasn’t sure that was what she would want right now. Hell, even at the best of times she hated his presence, and whilst it had felt like they’d turned a new leaf last night… a lot had happened since then.

She sniffed. And his heart broke. “Is the sight of a tainted Princess so disgusting that the Great Hero of Hyrule, blessed by Hylia herself, can’t lay his oh-so-holy eyes on her?”

He spun and was by her side in a second, kneeling. “You could never be tainted.”

The sand clung to her hair, and all the way along the side of her face and neck, both of which had reddened a little from all the exposure to the sun.

She laughed but it was sarcastic, dripped in venom. And it made him scared. “That’s the first I’ve ever heard you speak. Keen to defend your honour Hero?” She scoffed. “I’m sure somehow father will still find a way for this to be my fault. If only you spent more time in dedication to the Goddess, then maybe she would have blessed you with the powers that would have allowed you to get out of this situation. You would have been stronger than them. You would not have allowed yourself to be humiliated.”

Goddesses above. The power. Fundamentally, everything came back to the Calamity... It was so powerful, hell, even it's impending arrival had already wrecked havoc with their lives. He didn't have the answer to her powers, but he wasn't so sure the key was with prayer to the Goddess. He was just as clueless with the sword, and if it would be enough, but it wasn't right to bring that up now. It would be like rubbing salt into her wound. Because at least he had the sword. And... he sort of understood what she was doing. And he’d let her do it. She was hurt. He was too, but he’d shoulder any burden of hers he could. “And he’s silent again.”

Crap, he hadn't meant- “I’m sorry Princess. I’m really sorry.” He didn't know what else to say. He bowed his head, the sight of her burnt and upset felt like a stab to his soul. He heard her sigh, and then she knelt back against the very bars his hands had become blistered, red and swollen from hitting so much.

He hesitantly sat down next to her, wary of her boundaries.

They stayed like that for a while, until she caught sight of his hands. She reached over and traced a faint line over where his skin had split open from the abuse it had received. Sand lined the edges of the wound and he would be lying if he didn’t admit that it stung. And then she shuffled just a little closer.

Link took a series of small half-panicked breaths. He moved, very slowly, as though she was made of glass that could shatter and touched his fingertips on her shoulder. She leant back a little, so his whole hand was now touching her. He took that to mean it was okay to touch, and slowly wrapped his arm around her fully. She shivered, and he started to rub his hand up and down her arm, in an attempt to warm her up.

He observed her throughout. At any sign of discomfort, he would stop, but she hadn’t shown any yet, only leaning into his arm slightly.

Her lower lip trembled. He immediately stopped. She shook her head, “I’m overreacting. I just asked for forgiveness yesterday and look at what I’m doing today.” She blinked rapidly; he could tell she was holding back tears. “It. It could have been worse. I still have my chest guard on. So. They didn’t cut through that.”

He was relieved, honestly, because she’d been spared that, but regardless it was humiliating. “It doesn’t make your pain any less valid Princess, regardless of how many layers they cut through.”

She stiffened at his validation, his corroboration that it wasn’t her fault, because that is what this was about truly, that is why she brought up her father, and her inability to unlock the power. She angrily brushed back the few tears that had dared to make their way through.

He felt sick, bruised and battered, watching her. It was heart-breaking. “It’s okay to cry Princess. It doesn’t mean they’ve won.”

She stared hard at his chest, before slowly looking up to him, as if she was seeing him for the first time. Truly properly seeing him. He guessed it was hard to know someone's intentions if they remained silent. He’d promised himself today though, there was no one here to put a façade on for. And he vowed that he would at least try to help her, even if he didn’t know how.

She latched onto his other arm, fisting the fabric in her hand, and slowly laid her head down on his shoulder. He assumed he said the right thing then, and he slowly exhaled a breath he hadn't even realised he was holding in.

Something his mother had always done for him whenever he’d hurt himself as a child was to brush through his hair. He wasn’t sure that would be appreciated here though. He didn’t want to touch her more than she allowed. What else could he do?

… the lullaby. He knew the lullaby. He could hum the lullaby. He waited for a while, letting her breathing settle a little. He wasn’t sure how she’d respond. She felt so fragile in his arms, like a frightened deer and he was terrified of scaring her away, of hurting her more than she had suffered through already.

A few minutes passed and she was still gripping his shirt, still rigid and tense, and he decided it was worth a shot. He could always stop if she told him too.

She inhaled, sharply, once he started. And then she leaned closer still, until her head was practically on his chest, her ear pressed against his sternum. Could she tell his heart rate had tripled since she moved closer?

He felt, rather than heard, her tears. They pierced through his thin undershirt, blot by blot, each one a stab to his heart.

He would be lying if he didn’t cry too, and it messed up the rhythm a little.

And she looked up, sitting up a little so she could see more of him, probably wondering why his voice had cracked halfway through. And she gasped. “What-”

She raised a hand to his face, and gently brushed the tears away from his left eye and then hovered over his right.

Oh. Oh yes, he’d been hurt. He imagined it probably wasn’t a pretty sight, a fairly deep gouge into the skin between his eye and cheek. He didn’t have her needles so he couldn’t fix it. Even if he did have thread, it wasn’t like he could even see it. It throbbed but it felt nothing compared to the turmoil that had run through him the entirety of the day.

“I refused to look.”

And his gaze flitted from her over-filled eyes, the dull haunted look in them making his heart twist for the umpteenth time today, to her wrist.

And he almost had a heart attack.

Dear Goddesses, he was going to end up with severe cardiac problems after this.

He gently grasped her hand and turned it so he could see properly. Her entire wrist was mangled, red, sore… Chapped from rope burns, no doubt, as she tried to wrench free at the posts.

She sighed. And held up her other hand, and then brought her ankles close, all of which were in a similar state, her ankles less so because it was harder to twist against rope with them.

And then she got out her kit. She moved to him first and he was horrified, snatching it out of her hands and pointing towards the designated bed area. She frowned. He didn’t back down. To hell with her taking care of him, after today.

She shuffled across, probably realising that this was a fight she was doomed to lose. As he moved to clean the wound with the little cup of water the Yiga had left them when they’d dropped Zelda off, she stopped him. “We shouldn’t waste water this way, Link. We both need to drink it rather than clean wounds out. Dehydration trumps infection in the causes of death order, Sir Link.”

He accepted; she was right. Who knew when the next water-cup would come? He keenly felt the loss of his pouches, for the small first aid kit he always carried, and the antiseptic cream he had. He did the best he could, using small pieces of Champion blue cloth to bind around her wrists and ankles, in a makeshift bandage. And then he got unceremoniously pushed into the wall, and he grimaced at the sight of the needle in her hand. He wouldn’t be asleep this time.

He still couldn’t really look at her though, he felt guilty, because the wound was proof that he had failed to protect her honour, even from himself.

“None of this is your fault Link.”

How did she know him so well? Perhaps she’d spent more time observing him that he’d thought. “I failed you Princess. Again. I let them take you. I-” His voice broke. He couldn’t actually voice the rest of his apology, the words scraped against his throat, foul and bitter as shame paralysed him.

She swallowed. “We could play the whose-fault-is-it game all day. Ultimately neither of us are to blame. I’m tired Link. I don’t want to think about it anymore.”

He nodded his assent, and he let her fix the wound. She used small careful stitches which he could tell she did as quickly as she could, so that she didn't cause him excessive pain. And then she wrapped some of the material around his hands in a makeshift bandage. The pain was nothing though. Nothing compared to the dread he felt as to what would come next.

Because today was just day one. What would happen tomorrow?

She eventually finished, and then came to sit next to him. They split the water, and although he tried to make sure she got more than he did, she refused and they each got half equally.

“Hypothermia.” Is all she said afterwards, and he knew what she meant.

This time, though he felt her tears instead of her smile, and he felt completely and utterly useless. She didn’t deserve this. No one deserved this. He understood, that perhaps right now they were in survival mode, and that is why she didn’t want to think about it too deeply because who knew what horrors awaited them tomorrow. But he worried for her, he always did, because he knew the scars this whole experience would have would be lasting.

That was a depressing line of thought and he was treading dangerous waters. He needed to think about how they were supposed to get out. He needed to make sure this didn’t happen again. He needed to actually protect her damn it. He leaned back. What could he really do, stuck as they were? What were the tips he'd been taught on how to handle an imprisonment? Perhaps the first thing to do was to try to figure out what the captors wanted. Usually that was pretty obvious, information or money but it wasn’t so clear cut here.

It just didn't make sense, and he couldn’t help but wonder what exactly the Yiga Clan wanted from this. The thing the researcher had said when stopping the Blademaster- something about it not working... was he talking about Zelda's sealing powers not awakening? He must have, seeing as the Blademaster more or less confirmed that when he taunted Zelda for being unable summon Hylia. And then when the researchers had come to let Zelda down, it seemed to be more of a... conclusion to their experiment. Link wasn’t a scientist, but he’d silently observed plenty of simulations that the Sheikah and Zelda had run on various parts of Ancient Technology. It was a process akin to what happened today- there was some sort of plan beforehand, then the “subject” - most often a Guardian - was prepared, and the planned programming was completed and then the results recorded.

But... Link couldn’t match that criteria with what had happened to Zelda. Just what were the researchers trying to get out of the whole thing? What was their initial plan- i.e why conduct, this-this experiment to torment Zelda to try to get the power to show itself? Surely that was counterintuitive to their overall aim? Because awakening her powers would mean the Darkness would be sealed and that was completely against what they wanted? Which brought him back to what, exactly, was their end goal? Had it changed? It didn’t seem so... And why had the Yiga changed their plan from assasination to... torture? For the life of him he couldn’t understand...

Chewing on his lip he decided it was worth a shot, to try to sift through the memories of lives he’d had but not lived himself, and… he even decided to try to look through the last Hero’s one. He sighed, he always felt uncomfortable with the memories. The thing was that they were like snapshots in time, and they were not… organised in any meaningful way. The whole thing was one big mess of emotion, because most of them were glimpses of things that his predecessors had felt strongly about, those were the ones that they unconsciously imprinted on the sword, and it carried those memories through for each wielder that followed. Maybe it thought there was a lesson to be learnt from each one, or maybe it just wanted a memento of each Hero. Who knew, the sword had a mind of its own.

So, whilst he knew he’d transformed into a wolf, he had no idea why or even how it had happened. The only time he'd get a semi-coherent sequence of events was during his dreams. Those often flowed a lot better than him trying to access the memory whilst conscious, which confused him but really, was anything about the Master Sword simple?

And that was why he’d found it so hard to understand just what was going on in the life of the Hero who was his direct comparator, the one who had succeeded the last time this had happened. The truth of the matter was, Link felt incredibly depressed, every time he thought of what happened 10,000 years ago.

For starters, the guy had it all. Link could only vaguely remember something glowing blue with a distinct sense that it was “Sheikah” so he assumed that was from the inside of one of those shrines, and it was accompanied by a feeling of “training programme”. And the rest of the memories pre-calamity were of… well. This was the part that used to disturb and plague him the most, because clearly, this Hero had a good working relationship with his Princess, and it was probably not just working. Okay it was definitely not just working, but Link refused to think further on that before, especially considering his own tenuous relationship with His Princess. The only other significant thing, alongside a bucketful of reminiscences with the Princess of that time, was some sort of glowing hand, which Link for the life of him couldn’t figure out but it seemed important. Oh, and also a crimson-coloured mist thing, but he wasn’t sure- because the whole thing seemed to be blurred around the edges. What was even more bizarre, was that there was barely any feeling of fear associated with the two things, it was weirdly relief more than anything else. And that frankly made him very frustrated. Relief at facing destiny? Just how prepared was this Hero? The whole thing left him with a bitter taste in his mouth, more so than the others because Link felt anything but prepared.

He sighed, the other thing with the memories were that he couldn’t just summon up what he wanted, and it would appear. It was more like he’d have to file his way through, and hopefully happen upon whatever it was he was searching for. And only now, after revisiting Mr Successful, did he actually remember that the Sheikah were still united back then, so there was no Yiga. They just didn't exist. Wonderful. Another reason why he hated to dwell on the seemingly illustrious journey that Hero had had.

He refocused. This wasn’t about that time. Why else would the Yiga have captured them, other than a sick sense of humour with the whole experiment? Was there any other purpose for this whole thing? His mind continued to wrack with the problem, and he watched as the moon moved across the sky.

Eventually, the Princess’s breathing evened out, as she fell asleep in his arms. At least she’d managed to sleep, he wasn’t sure she would, all things considered.

He sighed. The only other idea he had was that the whole thing was a farce, so they could exact revenge against the Royal Family for the humiliation they underwent all those eons ago and were banished. Clearly, they still used Ancient Sheikah Technology, the likes of which he’d never seen before. But still, surely the aim would be to kill them both to ensure Ganon’s revival would be unhindered? Not that he minded they hadn’t killed them yet; it was relieving to know they still had a chance, even if it was due to some sort of study.

He was distracted when she started to shiver, flinching inwards and he could only imagine what horrors she was seeing in her dreams. He grasped her tightly, running his fingers through her hair as he hummed her lullaby, hoping it would calm her, just as much as it did for him. Thankfully it worked, she settled back down, although now her knees were also pressed against his abdomen. He didn’t think it was a very comfortable position, but he didn’t want to disturb her, given she’d only just relaxed.

He, meanwhile, remained wide awake, tensed as bowstring. He would be ready next time.

[silentprincess17]

Sometimes Things Have To Get Worse Before They Get Better

This is essentially a darker, heavier alternate take on Memory #7 - Blades of the Yiga. I wanted to write a fic with a competent Yiga Clan. (Yes you read that right). It is very angsty in the beginning and then becomes fluffy (hence the title!)

Summary: Link and Zelda have returned from Vah Naboris with Urbosa and have spent the night in Kara Kara Bazaar Inn. Link wakes up and finds her missing.

Cue the angst.

This story is complete and I will post each chapter daily on here but you can read the whole thing on AO3

Rating: Mature (Graphic descriptions of violence) Pairing: Link/Zelda (Zelink) Characters: Link, Zelda, The Yiga Clan, Master Kohga

Chapter 1 Chapter 2

Chapter 3: So what do we do now? (or the fluffy chapter to the previous angsty one)

Link awoke and immediately questioned it, because he felt like he was still dreaming, in a Castle Courtyard where, as a child he’d snuck through a small canal to get in to see the Princess, and as an adult he’d waltzed in as Captain of the Guards. Because he could hear her lullaby. It had been so long… He slowly opened his eyes, disorientated because he was staring into the familiar vivid green eyes of His Princess, not the blue of other, so she wasn’t her, and he wasn’t him, but the lullaby? And she was smiling at him, albeit weakly. What- smiling? His Princess? At him?! What had happened?

There was more to add to his confusion though, because she was humming. She was the one humming the lullaby, but it wrong, because it wasn’t her lullaby, but really who was he to say otherwise, it probably was the lullaby for all the Princesses named Zelda. It- it was achingly familiar, but disturbing because all the times felt wrong and messed up. This wasn’t his, this wasn’t meant to comfort him, but it was anyway.

But why was he –

He blinked, waking up properly this time. He suddenly realised where he was exactly. He was in the Princess of Hyrule’s lap. His head was resting on her thighs. She was stroking his hair. His ponytail was gone. She was humming her lullaby to him. And she wasn’t angry at him.

Everything about this situation screamed wrong.

And then it all came hurtling back, and Link felt like he’d been stabbed all over with those darts the Yiga had aimed at her stomach. They’d been captured by the Yiga. Goddesses above. He rapidly sat up and felt a burst of pain all the way across his right shoulder and down his arm, and his vision swam, from the remaining drug in his system or from the pain he didn’t know.

“Link! Don’t get up so fast you-”

She gently pulled on his good arm, and he didn’t put up much resistance, mainly because it felt like the wind had been knocked out of him. He felt so disjointed, and he knew this was wrong, but he wasn’t feeling well enough to protest.

And okay, maybe he was a little glad she didn’t seem to hate him anymore. Just a little.

He raised his eyebrows at her, hoping she’d understand. She did. “After they drugged you asleep, because I guess they figured they’d never beat you otherwise, they did the same for me- I got caught barely a few metres from where you fell. And then I presume we both got carted to their Hideout. I woke up before you because I had a lower dose, and I, um, well.”

She awkwardly pointed to his right shoulder. “You know, I’m no Mipha, and it’s not like we have any healing resources, but I needed to close your wound in case it got infected- I believe they wrenched the sickle out of you before they dumped us in here. And I thought it best to at least try to sew it together whilst you were asleep and couldn’t feel much. It, went well, surprisingly- you didn’t bleed excessively considering they removed the object that was effectively acting as a tamponade, but I think because it landed squarely in your trapezius, it didn’t hit any major blood supplies, thankfully. I cleaned it as best as I could. And it was a good thing I had my mini sewing supplies in my pocket, Urbosa’s skirt had a small cut she wanted me to- uh- never mind. It was lucky that I forgot to put the kit in my pouch, which they took so.”

She paused, “Anyway, just as I put in the last stitch, thinking I could, maybe, relax a little, you started to thrash around, flailing all your limbs everywhere. With hindsight, I think the draught was fading by that point…” She took a short, sharp breath, “And I obviously couldn’t risk you ripping the wound open so in an attempt to calm you I held your head down and started humming and it, uh, worked. So that is why. I was. Doing that.” She fisted her hands awkwardly, bunching the material of her shirt in her hands, between her fractured phrases. Her eyes flittered around, looking everywhere but him. “And I didn’t want you to open that wound again, we don’t have many supplies so, so I guided you to lie down again.” She was clearly uncomfortable. And was that- Farore. She was blushing, he realised. Because of him.

That felt incredibly wrong, no Princess should ever blush at her Knight, so he readied himself to move off her and give her some much needed space.

He nodded, putting her out of her misery before sitting up much more slowly this time. He looked over his shoulder trying to see how bad the wound was, but she’d done an excellent job in sewing him up. Perhaps the embroidery skills she’d learnt were amenable to medical stiches too. He scooted away from her, trying to clear his head a little, and forget how comfortable it felt. How much he’d enjoyed her deft fingers working through his hair. How she'd still smelled of lavender, honey and just a hint of Gerudo spice –

He shook his head, clearly, he was still somewhat delusional following the heady sleeping draught. He needed to apologise to her and he needed to try to find a way to get out. He suddenly remembered her neck, and he dashed over, scanning across her whole body quickly, trying to see if she was okay and if any other wounds had been inflicted on her whilst he was asleep.

“Link!”

What? He had to- why was she bending her neck? He could guess why, and his gut twisted on itself. He’d let her get hurt. He hesitantly raised his hand, and placed it close to her chin, not quite touching, but Zelda tracked his movement and slowly nodded. He ever so gently touched the tips of his fingertips onto her jaw, and pressed upwards and she elongated her neck in compliance.

He gasped. She’d wiped it down, but there was a red, clearly inflamed, scabbed over, curved, line across her neck. He screwed his eyes shut, half wanting to throw up, even though he knew he had nothing in his stomach. He couldn’t look at her, this was his fault, he’d allowed her to get hurt. Some Appointed Knight he was.

He was so lost in cursing himself and his inability to protect her that he missed her hand moving and pressing down on his own, still softly holding her jaw. His eyes flew open at that, but he still couldn’t meet her gaze, looking everywhere but her. “Link.” He knew what she was going to say, and he didn’t want to hear it. It was his fault.

“Link, look at me.”

He couldn’t deny an order from his Princess.

“It wasn’t your fault. You were not the one to draw the sickle against me, okay?” He reluctantly nodded, seeing where she was coming from. “If anything, it was mine for running away. And I should be the one apologising, because you got hurt- and your wound is much more severe compared to this simple scab that will heal with time. And that’s notwithstanding the whole infection risk of using embroidery thread and not actual medical sutures.”

She sighed, patting the ground next to her. He reluctantly let go of her and sat down as she wished, his vision swirled a little, from all the abrupt movement.

She fiddled with her fingers, before turning to him, a determined look in her eyes. “I truly am sorry Link. For- for everything. From running away all those times, to being childishly jealous of you and your success, to… even shouting at you.” She sighed, “Not to mention taking out all my petty frustrations on you, whilst you were only trying to do your job. For, well, letting you get hurt because of me. For ending up here…” She shoved her head in her hands. “Goddesses above, the list never ends. I-”

Her voice went quiet. “I apologise, Link, for not being the Princess you deserve.”

He was shocked. He hadn’t been expecting that to say the least. Words had never been his forte, so he did the best he could.

He tenderly tilted her head towards him, and then shook his head. The vulnerability he saw in those verdant eyes struck him. She was serious, she genuinely regretted it, and he tried to smile reassuringly. How could he ever remain upset with her anyway? Not when he understood and related to her so well.

He placed his other hand on his heart and bent his head towards her. “You accept? No, you forgive me? So easily? No, I insist you give some punishment Link.”

He chuckled, shaking his head as he raised both hands up, shrugging slightly. He was never one for punishments and he forgave her, because he understood, he truly did. He just needed to think through his words, and he’d tell her properly.

“You're too kind. I'll find a way, to earn my forgiveness, even if you've already accepted. Although... perhaps being here is punishment enough.” She hugged her knees to her chest, and he closed his eyes for a second, just trying to get his bearings. He still felt dizzy and sitting up so fast as soon as he had woken up, and then rushing to Zelda to look over her had not helped matters. Most likely, this was due to a side effect from inhaling such a high concentration of the drought. He’d have to wait for a bit before moving again, and he spread his palms out on the ground next to his thighs to try to get over the remaining queasiness, keeping his eyes shut so he wouldn’t be further disorientated.

He felt her slip her hand just next to his, her pinkie finger barely touching his thumb.

And Link felt his heart speed up a little. He couldn’t help but feel pleased they’d finally made some progress and were no longer at odds with each other. For the first time, the silence that descended on them was a comfortable one, not fraught with tension like every other time they’d been left alone together. And for that, he was immeasurably glad.

After taking a few minutes to recover his bearings, Link slowly opened his eyes, and was pleased to find his world was not tilting on its axis. He took several deep breaths, trying to ignore the stabbing pain in his shoulder.

Okay. He was ready now, to start thinking of a plan.

He motioned for Zelda to wait as he heaved himself to stand, very slowly. And nothing happened, everything was still balanced. Good. He headed over to the bars, first, before realising they were made, in fact, of fairly hardy steel and it wasn’t at all rusted. There would be no hope of breaking them directly, not by hand anyway. And where was the door? He belated realised the metal on one side was different to the others. It was darker in shade. He flicked his index finger at it, but it came back just as hard and resonant. Well. Clearly whatever it was wouldn’t be easy to break either. He tried to stemmy the rising panic when thinking about how the hell they were supposed to break out. He moved to the bottom of the bars, but it became rapidly obvious to him that the mongrels had drilled the bars a significant distance down, too low for them to try to dig out. She shuffled over.

“I had a quick check over the cell too, before, I um, realised that you were hurt. They sort of left you with your back to the wall, so I didn’t actually see the bleeding until I got up close and- well. You know the rest of it. There really isn’t much other than the toilet in the next cell that we can go into.” His eyes lit up, “But no, it’s the exact same thing as this one. More bars, just with a curtain for decency I guess.”

He decided to check everything anyway. Alas, it was an airtight cell. There wasn’t a single thing they could manipulate. Clearly the Yiga had been planning for this.

He cast his eyes out, looking beyond the bars and realised that it in fact looked out to what seemed to be a gigantic circular hole in the sand. The landscape itself naturally moulded into a giant cylinder, perfect to keep the Yiga hidden, and impossible for them to climb out without being seen. If they could even get out of the cell to begin with. Although, eerily, everything seemed quiet.

He turned back to Zelda, motioning to the space outside and then pointing to the banana symbol engraved in the wall. “I found it surprising too. I have no idea where they’ve gone. It’s all very calm. I’m not sure why... Well, this sounds morbid, but I don’t understand why they’ve kept me alive. Surely their intention was to assassinate, and yet, now we’re locked up, and they haven’t come yet. Although I can only assume this is a good thing, time to plan an escape… maybe… well hopefully, anyway.”

He fought a smile off his face. She always did talk too much. Perhaps that was a good thing though, it balanced him out quite nicely.

He sighed, moving to sit down again, it was best to conserve his strength. And looking at the red lanterns and those weird orange wooden planks linked to each other was freaking him out a little. He wasn't sure what the symbolism was, but he was wary. There wasn’t much else they could do, other than wait for one of the Yiga to come, and make the mistake of opening the door, then Link would go into hand combat, and they would have to scale the cliff out of the here. The section to the right actually appeared the least steep, so hopefully Zelda would be able to manage that. However, he could see the snow from here and that meant there was risk of hypothermia, and they didn't have their normal stock of elixirs. Goddesses above, his head hurt from thinking through all the ways this could go wrong.

“You’re looking at the end cliff face. Do you think-”

He nodded.

“I think I can do it. Will you be okay with your wound?”

He nodded again.

She exhaled heavily, coming to sit down next to him. “The chance of a rescue team coming to find us is also depressingly slim, at the minute, because according to Urbosa, we’ve left the desert. According to my father, we’re in the process of travelling to the Spring of Power, and whilst we’re in the vicinity we’re supposed to go visit Daruk again to see if he’s has any progress with controlling Vah Rudania. Therefore, we are not due back at the Castle for another three weeks at least to account for travel time, so he won’t be suspicious of our continued absence. And Daruk thinks were going to Spring first and I don’t think he knows that you are only supposed to stay a day there- he might assume I’ve succeeded and so stayed for longer, or even that we were delayed in Gerudo Town…”

He nodded. Basically, all that meant external help was not coming any time soon.

“How long do you think it’ll take them to realise we’ve been captured?”

He thought about it for a few seconds. It would take at least another two weeks for Daruk to realise something was up, and by the time he relayed that over to Urbosa and the King, it will have been at least three. And then they still needed to search over Hyrule as to where exactly the Princess and Link were, before tracking them down to the Kara Kara Bazaar Inn, and hopefully realising they were, in fact, abducted by the Yiga Clan. And as to the actual rescue itself, he doubted it would take more than a couple of days simply because it involved the Princess and the Hero - the two people who were truly capable of fighting the ever-approaching evil. So overall that was what? Four and a half weeks?

He held up four fingers. Best to not dash her hopes too much.

“Hylia above! A month?!” She slumped against the wall. “I can see why though. It- it’s just so inconvenient that we decided to combine three separate outings into one. And that is why no one will actually realise we are in trouble.”

Link didn’t point out that this was, in fact, a common occurrence. The Princess often fabricated another couple of reasons to delay going back the Castle. He understood why of course. Facing her father with repeated failures was hard and being out in Hyrule meant she could at least be of some use in terms of her research. Frankly, if he’d been in her position, he would have done the same.

“Another thing that I didn’t mention before, but you should probably know, is that they took the Sheikah Slate.”

Oh crap. Purah would kill them both, but she’d go all out on Link, fond as she was of Princess Zelda. She’d skewer him alive and then Robbie would sprinkle on his various guardian parts on top for seasoning and the two of them would roast him slowly for committing such a crime. And then they’d recover the guardian parts because those were precious and were not likely to burn, unlike his mortal form, into ashes anyway. Why was thinking of this and how did he come up with this much detail?

He must have had a look of apt horror on his face because she chuckled slightly, “Yes, I know. Even if we survive this whole abduction, we will probably not live for long afterwards.”

He shook his head. No, they would survive. He would make sure of it. She smiled a little in response.

Something was unsettling him though. It felt like a there was a gnawing hole inside him. At first he thought it was because of Zelda getting hurt, and then because of his dizziness but it suddenly hit him what was missing. His heart skipped a beat in fear. He glanced over, looking at his shoulder again, in vain because he knew it was empty and the confirmation terrified him. He looked at her with wide eyes, not daring to think of the implications. “I- I don’t actually know what happened to the Master Sword, Link, it was – um, in that Yiga’s head and then I was knocked out. I don’t know if they took it, or left it behind…”

And there went Link’s last hope of killing the darkness.

[silentprincess17]

Sometimes Things Have To Get Worse Before They Get Better

This is essentially a darker, heavier alternate take on Memory #7 - Blades of the Yiga. I wanted to write a fic with a competent Yiga Clan. (Yes you read that right). It is very angsty in the beginning and then becomes fluffy (hence the title!)

Summary: Link and Zelda have returned from Vah Naboris with Urbosa and have spent the night in Kara Kara Bazaar Inn. Link wakes up and finds her missing.

Cue the angst.

This story is complete and I will post each chapter daily on here but you can read the whole thing on AO3

Rating: Mature (Graphic descriptions of violence) Pairing: Link/Zelda (Zelink) Characters: Link, Zelda, The Yiga Clan, Master Kohga Trigger warnings for this chapter: Descriptions of blood, wounds and death. Also: there is a spoiler for one of the side quests in AOC (one of the things Link does for Zelda) and it's in the third paragraph before the last one so it's nearly at the end.

Read Chapter 1

Chapter 2: Ambushed

Link ran, sprinting through the sand, his boots coughing up a flurry of grains, sword already pulled out in his hand, pulsing as it recognised his anxiety.

A ball of fear erupted in his chest, and suddenly Link found his mouth dry and unable to swallow. He couldn’t deny it to himself then, it wasn’t just duty that motivated his actions. Hell, this-this need to protect her… It felt like something he’d always done, an innate instinct. Something deeper than his vows as her Knight tied him to her, probably something to do with his past lives, but he didn’t know how to explain it, and really, it scared him, sometimes, this urge that he had little control over. A lot of things scared him about the sword actually, and he wondered just how separate he truly was from it sometimes.

Despite running flat out, he was still a considerable distance away, but even from here, he could tell, it wasn’t looking good. She had run, valiantly, but there were two of them up ahead of her, he couldn’t make out just yet what Yiga Clan member they were, but he could see the Yiga Foot soldier behind her. And crap, she’d slipped and fallen, and Farore, just – just a few more seconds and he’d make it.

Please, please, please.

His heart thundered in his chest; his hands icy cold, clammy around the handle of his sword.

The three Yiga Foot soldiers approached her, okay, okay, this wasn’t good, no, they had Vicious Sickles, but he had the Sword That Seals The Darkness, and what better definition of darkness than the Yiga Clan, he would make it- and

Spirits

Three Yiga Blademaster’s poofed into existence beside the Foot soldiers, and together they slashed their windcleavers, aimed at his Princess’s throat.

NO.

Link jumped, sliced the first Foot Soldier in the chest, blood spurting outwards and he nimbly twisted to avoid it landing on him, and then aimed for the first Blademaster. Just before his blade hit that idiot’s neck, the other two began to laugh. The sickening Yiga Clan laugh that was so incredibly patronising, and Link was already feeling bad enough this morning and he had little patience left.

“Not so fast, Hero.” The Blademaster in the centre clicked his fingers and another three appeared behind the Princess, all of them pointing the tips of their windcleavers at her neck.

Holy Hylia. There were now 5 blades aimed at her, one of them pressed closed enough that she couldn’t swallow without fear of drawing blood. And he couldn’t bring himself to actually look at her, the one glance he’d had would forever scar him, she looked downright petrified. The sight made his blood boil, the sword glowed blue, but he had to be logical.

It wouldn’t do to attack the one whose neck was under his sword only for the other five to behead the Princess. Yes, he was fast. Yes, he was blessed with rapid reflexes. But even he recognised it would be impossible to eliminate all five without one of them harming the Princess before he finished. It would take seconds for them to nick her carotid artery, whilst he needed to slice through five necks. This would have been so much easier if she wasn’t in the middle of the fray. A simple charged sword attack aimed in the air would have exterminated the lot. He also couldn’t help but curse himself because he’d been an idiot and forgotten his bow, he hadn’t picked it up in all the rush of Zelda disappearing and now he severely regretted it. What he wouldn’t have done for a few electric arrows right now. He would have shocked the life out of them with all their metal weaponry.

“There’s too many of us, Hero, with too many swords at the ready to behead this pretty little blond thing. We only really have an issue with her Royal Holiness here, for she supposedly holds the power to seal away our God.” He laughed, “Although she isn’t that Holy, is she, eh boys?”

They all broke out into laughter, and Link decided that was the best opportunity he was going to get. He stabbed the sword into the first Yiga Blademaster’s neck, a fountain of red erupted out, just as Link shoved his body towards one of the remaining Foot Soldiers, who got trapped underneath the sheer dying bulk of the man. He rolled, pulling the Princess down so she was out of direct range of those windcleavers, and then he unceremoniously chucked her towards the opening he’d just created. She seemed to get the message and started to run, whilst he began to dance with his sword.

Move one to the jugular vein, two to the heart plus some ribs, three a large spin attack against the last Foot Soldier and three Blademasters who lunged at him, but he only belatedly realised one of them didn’t have a weapon, had they used the sickle as a boomerang? He distantly felt a muscle spasm, but that didn’t distract him, no, he ploughed through with the movement, effectively plunging the sword through the layers of skin, muscle and fat, and he leapt out of the resulting crimson blood spray that blended in with their armour. He had to admit, even if he wasn’t comfortable with the whole context of the sword and the trauma of seeing everything they had gone through, it was a beautiful blade. The best he’d ever had the honour of wielding.

His focus was shattered, suddenly, as he heard a painfully familiar scream, was it a memory or – no. That was His Zelda. He belatedly realised the last Yiga Foot soldier hadn’t remained trapped. He’d chased after the Princess and he had three darts pressed her abdomen, hard enough that she was whimpering, with his sickle wrapped around her neck, the curved edge milliseconds from ending her life. She had one hand alternating between trying to claw the mask off the Yiga’s face to ineffectively grasping at his hand wielding the sickle, the other outstretched to him, and it broke him a little.

His heart ached, his pulse thundering hard in his ears, because she was too far away for him to jump to her, too far to do anything without a damn bow. The bodies that littered the floor, and the blood that coated the sand around him weren’t enough, the one that remained would kill her, before he could do anything. Of that he had no doubt.

“Lay down your sword. And you may leave with your life. We do not care for the Hero, you’re simply a vessel for the Hero’s spirit and even if we kill you, you’ll just come back in some other lowlife’s body. We only care for the supposedly High Priestess Hylian Princess Zelda and the Sword that Seals the Darkness. Without those two, Hyrule will be blessed by Calamity Ganon’s unbridled power!”

He hesitated, and in that one second another four Yiga Blademasters appeared behind him, “DO NOTHING Hero. Remember what position your darling Princess is in.” The Foot soldier tightened his hold on Zelda and pressed the blade deeper into her skin and it cut into her neck, causing a small line of blood to leak down the blade.

That was the tipping point, Link saw red, and howled, hurling the Master Sword so that it pierced that wretched mask, straight into the bastard’s eye, and swung down with gravity to cut through his face.

And he turned around to face those remaining Yiga Blademaster’s with his bare hands, but instead he smelt the familiar incense of cool saffilina, which rang alarm bells in his head, this was used as a sleeping drought. He couldn’t do much more than gasp before a towel was rammed into his face, and he struggled against it, but suddenly the smell became so much more concentrated. He blinked, trying his hardest not to breathe, but the haze that descended on his mind regardless meant it was far, far more potent than the one he’d made for Zelda.

All of a sudden, he felt disturbingly dizzy, his legs like jelly underneath him. His eyelids abruptly felt incredibly heavy- he closed his eyes almost unwittingly, and then struggled to open them again. He barely managed to open one flimsily, and he saw vague red shapes ensnaring his Princess and all he could do was fall to the floor on his knees, shameful that he’d failed her.

She was screaming his name, and all he could do was raise a pitiful arm out to her, before he succumbed, and all he saw was black.

[silentprincess17]

Sometimes Things Have To Get Worse Before They Get Better

This is essentially a darker, heavier alternate take on Memory #7 - Blades of the Yiga. I wanted to write a fic with a competent Yiga Clan. (Yes you read that right). It is very angsty in the beginning and then becomes fluffy (hence the title!)

Summary: Link and Zelda have returned from Vah Naboris with Urbosa and have spent the night in Kara Kara Bazaar Inn. Link wakes up and finds her missing.

Cue the angst.

This story is complete and I will post each chapter daily on here but you can read the whole thing on AO3

Rating: Mature (Graphic descriptions of violence) Pairing: Link/Zelda (Zelink) Characters: Link, Zelda, The Yiga Clan, Master Kohga

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4

Chapter 5: Dawn of the First Day

TW: Sexual violence (but not assault/rape), torture and rope binding. And also blood and wounds. Just a note but I’ve aged everyone up by a year so that Zelda (and Link) are both 17 here- as that’s the age you become an adult in Hyrule. I didn’t want this to be with children because that’s another level of darkness I’m not comfortable with.

Link felt drowsy, almost like he’d been given another dose of that blasted draught, and the haze lifted somewhat when the cage door banged shut, the sound reverberating in his head, wait- wasn’t he supposed to do something when the door opened?

He barely got his wits together when he heard her scream his name. That woke him up, he shot forward, the dizziness too strong, blindly reaching out for her, damn it, she was supposed to be in his arms, where was she?! Why was she shouting?!

He couldn’t make out anything other than a blurry outline of red, and he broke out in cold sweat.

They had come back.

They had taken her.

And he’d done nothing.

He banged, uselessly, against the cold, hard steel, as he finally woke up properly-

too late too late too late

and he saw her struggling between three of the Foot Soldiers, until one of them shoved a sickle against her neck, right up against the previous scar, and she stopped trying to fistfight her way out of their grip.

His heart rate shot up, as he looked at what lay up ahead. It was a giant metallic table, in prime view of the sun, and three Blademasters stood beside it. How had he fallen asleep? How had he not woken up when they brought that giant thing in?

They tied each of her limbs to one of the posts. And Link howled, infuriated at himself at his incompetence for letting her go, for letting her get captured, for failing to protect her. Yet. Again. He hurled himself against the bars,

No. No. No!!

He wouldn’t let them hurt her.

He wouldn’t let them tear her apart.

He banged his hands against the unforgiving, unrelenting beams again and again, in a fruitless and futile attempt to break through.

She fidgeted uncomfortably against the post, her arms stretched too wide, he could see from here just how taunt her skin was. She didn’t look at him.

He paced the cell again, maybe there was something he missed. He wouldn’t just sit and watch.

Why hadn’t they taken him first?!

Why had he fallen asleep so deeply in the first place?! It was unlike him to ever sleep whilst they were out in the wild. And he’d gone and done that whilst they were in a cell. A Goddess-damned cell, imprisoned by the Yiga Clan.

And now-

He looked up, and two Foot Soldiers had come up to the door. Oh yes, let them come he’d punch them in the head, grab their sickles and FORCE HIS GODDESS-DAMNED WAY OUT.

Their hands weaved through the slits, two sickles in hand, and rammed the back of his head against the rails, the sound of vibrating metal rung through his head and his forehead stung. He vaguely registered the sensation of a warm liquid dribbling down his head, whilst the other two sickles remained at the front of his neck, daring him to move out of this headlock they’d put him in.

Before he could formulate a plan to incapacitate these two idiots, he heard Zelda scream and his heart stopped.

They weren’t killing her. Which he was so, so glad about. But

He couldn’t look.

One of the Foot Soldier’s by his side forced his head up with the sickle, forcing him to watch.

He tried to reach for their hands, but they strapped something heavy, a dark metal cast along his forearms, the same as the door, he realised, and used some glowing-red-cursed-Ganon-technology thing to effectively paralyse him into place. He struggled, endlessly, but it was useless. Dammit how strong was this connection?! They knew he would have felled them in one move, even as disadvantaged as he was, so they had sealed his hands as well as his body in the cell. He’d been locked in twice and he couldn’t do anything. He couldn’t help her. He couldn’t-

Wait. He could shut his eyes. He could at least preserve her dignity, her honour from himself.

He did so.

And then a sharp steel point pressed against his cheek, and slowly tracked upwards, cutting straight though, until it rested just below his eye. It nudged his eyeball. The threat was there. He would lose an eye if he didn’t comply.

Whilst half of him wanted to just refuse, to do the one thing he could for the Princess right now, he couldn’t lose his vision. It would completely impair his fighting, and he had to maintain form for the Darkness. He couldn’t very well fight the Calamity if he couldn’t see it. The irony, the Knight who only saw darkness killing the Darkness. He couldn’t put the entirety of Hyrule at risk. With no other choice left to him, he opened his eyes.

And the sickle pushed in anyway at his lower lash line, and he felt himself start to cry blood.

Forced to watch as the Blademaster laughed down at his Princess. Forced as he used the windcleaver to nick the first button of Zelda’s blouse off. Forced as did the same for the next. She screamed, and it seared into his mind. She yelled at the Yiga to stop, and memories of her telling him the same thing back at Tabantha burnt through his head. And then the Blademaster got bored of waiting and he swiped the cursed sword down the blouse, effectively slicing it down her midline, cutting through her undershirt as well. Link dry-heaved, as much as could with three swords surrounding his neck, one just under his eye.

He tried to breathe but it was hard, his chest ached because he knew what was coming next and he was powerless to stop it. He felt the ghastly mix of blood and tears start to track down his cheeks, as she screamed and screamed for them to stop.

"WAIT!"

...?! Who? That was a different voice to Zelda's.

And the Blademaster must have obeyed because Zelda went quiet too and for a second Link thought the worst had happened and they’d actually killed her in a fit of anger, and he hurriedly blinked away the tears, trying to see through the haze.

"That's enough. Clearly it's not going to work." It had come from one of what seemed to be two Yiga... researchers? They had red coats over their armour, and they looked weirdly familiar to the Sheikah technicians at the Royal Ancient Laboratory. What? What was going on?!

The Blademaster made a show of putting his windcleaver back in its scabbard. “Still nothing. I shouldn’t be surprised. So weak, you can’t even summon Hylia to protect you when you are your most vulnerable. Master Kohga will certainly be pleased.” He jumped down from the table, in one fluid motion, and joined the technicians and together they walked out, through the stone opening in the distance. Link held his breath.

Was it over?

Please, please Farore, please let it be over.

[silentprincess17]

Sometimes Things Have To Get Worse Before They Get Better

This is essentially a darker, heavier alternate take on Memory #7 - Blades of the Yiga. I wanted to write a fic with a competent Yiga Clan. (Yes you read that right). It is very angsty in the beginning and then becomes fluffy (hence the title!)

Summary: Link and Zelda have returned from Vah Naboris with Urbosa and have spent the night in Kara Kara Bazaar Inn. Link wakes up and finds her missing.

Cue the angst.

This story is complete and I will post each chapter daily on here but you can read the whole thing on AO3

Rating: Mature (Graphic descriptions of violence) Pairing: Link/Zelda (Zelink) Characters: Link, Zelda, The Yiga Clan, Master Kohga

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3

Chapter 4: What happens in a desert at night? It gets cold. Exactly.

As night descended in the desert Link started to feel the chill. His wound throbbed annoyingly and normally by now he would have had at least a meal, if a healing potion wasn’t readily available, and he would be fit as a fiddle, with only a memory of the injury and its associated pain. But he hadn’t eaten a thing since last night, and his stomach had rumbled countless times throughout the evening until it just gave up, accepting its loss for the day. The other thing that was deeply disturbing him (other than the absence of the sword) was that his waist felt alarmingly bare without his pouches and he kept subconsciously trying to reach down and pull out some wood and a flint piece to build a fire, or any assortment of fruits he kept on hand, but he didn’t have anything. He mostly wished they’d at least let him keep the food pouch.

He sighed. He needed to find a way to get them out of here, otherwise they’d develop dehydration within the next day, probably, as they were in the desert. Secondary to that would be starvation, tertiary, infection, oh no wait. He shuddered as an icy sharp breeze whistled through his tunic and seemingly straight into his newly-sealed wound. Hypothermia would be a contender too, made all too obvious by the shivering Princess next to him.

She was his main concern, she always was. He thanked the Goddesses she at least had a thick starchy undershirt inside her blouse, which should help her keep warm, but those leggings were not as sturdy, and she kept on rubbing her calves together, no doubt trying to use friction to generate some heat. And she hadn’t eaten anything either, which made him feel doubly worse. Even when they were fighting, she always appreciated the food he made.

In the end, he gave up, he didn’t know what else he could do to make the situation better, so, he pulled off his Champion’s Tunic and spread it across her legs. Yes, it was a little ripped and had a dribble of blood down the back where he’d been injured, but really it was the closest thing she’d get to a blanket, as the rags in the back of the cell were filthy and Goddesses knew what sort of infections they carried.

She immediately protested as he assumed she would, “No Link! I can’t have you die of hypothermia! And you need to keep your wound warm.” She tried to shove it back into his hands. “Besides, I have a plan for how to get warm that doesn’t involve you stripping.”

He blushed. He hadn’t meant –

She started to laugh, and he awkwardly fisted the shirt, pulling it on and then looking away from her deviously sparkling eyes.

No chance of that happening though, because she shuffled closer. He’d kept his distance from her as was proper, up until now. He’d tried to separate them as much as he could, considering the cell itself wasn’t that large. But she got up and plopped down next to him with little decorum. She stayed like that for a while, their shoulders touching, and alarm bells began to ring in Link's head, as he wondered what exactly she had planned. She anxiously fisted her hands, before exhaling heavily, almost as though she was gathering her courage, and moved towards him, lifting his good arm over her so it was now draped over her shoulder. She shimmied a little closer still, and wrapped her arm across his back, making sure she was positioned below his injury, and she gently pressed her head into his shoulder. Link's heart rate shot up, because, essentially, the Princess of Hyrule was now unashamedly hugging him. Him! Hylia above.

And whilst he stiffened, all his muscles tensed, his eyes wide with shock at her boldness, that move she just pulled did wonders for Link’s temperature. He immediately felt like he’d arrived on Death Mountain, with no fireproof elixir. Oh yes, he was burning alive, and it felt so good after the chilly breeze that nipped at his skin and seemingly inside his back with the fresh injury. But reality hit, and the impropriety, the improperness of this entire set up-

No, he couldn’t very well risk any harm to her reputation!

He tried to gently push her away- “Link, will you stop moving. It’s uncomfortable. And I know what you’re thinking of and its useless because who in this Goddess-forsaken cell will go and report to the King at how improper we’re being.” Well, that was true he supposed. He relaxed just a little, even if he was still somewhat hyperventilating over their current position. He felt her smile into his shoulder, and he had to refrain from doing something stupid like brush her hair behind her ear so he could see her better. “No one, exactly, so just, please-” she stopped, huffing angrily as if he was a stubborn gear that she just couldn’t place appropriately, “And it’s not like we’re actually doing this with any intention other than to avoid developing hypothermia. This is simply a survival necessity Sir Link. Surely you can agree there.”

Against his better judgement he did. There wasn’t much else they could do. And he could feel how cold she was, now she was pressed so close. Also, wasn’t it part of his duties to make sure she was kept safe? Okay, so he’d majorly failed there, but he could at least try to get her warm. So, he wrapped his arm around her proper, and he just had to take stock for a minute. Barely a day ago she was half-shouting at him for turning up at Vah Naboris, uninvited. Because he had the sword and she didn’t have her sealing powers. And now she was practically glued to his side, and he had lost the sword. Touché.

But still, he didn’t… entirely mind the change in her demeanour. Surely it would be better if they were friends instead of enemies? She hesitantly placed her other arm across his abdomen and he almost jumped from how icy her fingers were, quickly moving to wrap his other hand over hers, rubbing at her sleeve to try to generate some heat.

No, he thought to himself, he rather liked this new arrangement.