Chapter Text
The wind in the leaves beats against Zelda’s face, barely shifting her long, thick plait of hair. She washed it last night for the occasion and got dressed this morning in almost full plate armor and Champion blues. The koroks around her rattle and coo, bobbing in a gentle dance that she realizes is a mimicry of her own—an instinctive, soothing movement that she picked up three weeks ago when she finally managed to get out of bed.
To think she used to stand still for hours.
She takes a deep breath and wipes the sweat from her palms on the bulge of the front pack strapped to her chest.
Paya and Claree slip nervously closer, expecting to have to catch her. She's weak, yes. But she needs to do this. And now is the time.
She reaches out and grasps the hilt of the Master Sword.
The drain begins like a heartbeat—guuk...guuk—a pulse of pain that shoots from her palms to her chest. Tightening, burning, building.
The sword slips, jerks upwards an inch.
The pain throbs harder and she squeezes her eyes closed, and she knows she would see spots if she opened them. Another inch, another burst of pain, and a thin cry builds against her breast, reminding her that she will be victorious.
The future is bright.
The sword slides free, and the pain drops to only a reverberating echo as her eyes pop open. In awe, she shifts her grip to hold the sword towards the sky, the steel glinting, power flowing back into her body. The sword belongs in her hand. It's as if she's regained a limb she didn't know she'd lost. For the first time in weeks, she feels strong.
Paya sighs in relief.
There's another whimper against her chest, the baby cradled snug in the front pack nuzzling ineffectively against the padding. She drops her pose and tilts her head to smile down at his scrunched-up face.
"I know, starshine, but did you see mama's new sword?"
She holds the hilt close to his face to show the shine of the cross guard, but there's another threatening whimper until she sheathes the sword and resumes her bouncing. The baby soothes almost instantly.
"Well," she says, turning to Paya and Claree. "I'd call that a success."
Claree beams, clapping her hands together. Paya looks exhausted.
#
The Woodland Tower glows blue as they come out of the Lost Woods, but there's been at least one blood moon since Zelda cleared out the horde of monsters at its base, so they sneak past as quietly as they can with three horses and a newborn.
The baby, of course, starts to fuss as soon as they're within sight of the old training camp. Impa's said several times that babies always sound louder when they're your own, but that probably applies more to Zelda being embarrassed when the baby cries in public than it is about not alerting hundreds of moblins to their location.
"I know, starshine. Would you like a story?” she asks, her voice low and soothing and happy. She softens her face, so he doesn't pick up on her anxiety and leaves the Sheikah to keep an eagle eye on the camp. “Did you know mama made that tower blue?
"It was magenta before and covered in malice, corrupted by the Calamity.” She wrinkles up her nose, hoping the face is funny enough to soften the story, even though he can understand neither the fear nor the humor. “All the towers were magenta when I first awoke. But every tower you see that's glowing blue, that's where I fought back the monsters that surrounded it, climbed it, and cleansed it, and the malice went away even if the monsters came back."
The baby is still fidgety and whimpering, blinking at where his fist is wrapped tight around her finger. She clothed him this morning in a thick hat that Nanna, the elderly Sheikah, knit for him. It’s white with red and purple edging. He hasn't quite uncurled yet, his hands still in fists and his toes bunched up. His legs are still curled up inside the front pack and his arms are tucked tight to his sides. He hasn't really changed all that much since he came out. He's just louder and harder to feed.
"The most exciting tower was the one in Central Hyrule," she says. "It was the most dangerous, and I was going to wait until I'd at least freed a few of the Divine Beasts. I thought I would perhaps wait until I was ready to head to the castle. But then I met a man named Pikango at a stable."
Claree snorts softly. None of the Sheikah appreciate Pikango's attempts to appear Sheikah. They find him so offensive that they refuse to even admit that he's been helpful on Zelda's journey.
"He paints pictures, and he's traveled aaaaall over Hyrule to find the most beautiful landscapes. So, I showed him the photo album in the Sheikah slate, and he was able to tell me where some of them were. I'd yet to find any of the locations in the pictures, and I remembered so little at the time—almost nothing!—that I decided to head straight into the heart of Hyrule. I wanted to remember.
"In the picture, there's a town with the tower glowing blue in the center of a town square. Pikango had trouble recognizing it because the town isn't there anymore. There was just a lake of malice and a dozen turret guardians, some half sunk into the glowing tar. I didn't feel ready, and I even considered turning back. But then I thought of the memory waiting for me—only twelve guardians and a purified tower away. I thought of the blue light that would shine over the heart of Hyrule. I thought about the voice from the castle that I can sometimes hear when an area is cleansed enough for his voice to reach me.”
Her eyes drift towards the Woodland Tower, and her mind drifts to wondering if the prince can hear her now, if she’s recounting this story to him as well.
It’s foolish of her, but she sits a bit higher in her saddle, and her voice gets more dramatic even if the volume of the tale doesn’t increase. "I slipped down the ridge as quietly as I could, sneaking my way to the first guardian. It's strange to sneak up on a guardian, to stand so close to something so deadly, knowing it could turn at any moment.” She gooses the baby’s side, but he just squirms and whines up at her.
"I held my breath until it was looking away, then I locked it in place with stasis. I had scant seconds before the chains broke, and I whipped out my bow, wedged the point beneath the guardian, and shot. The chains broke and the guardian flipped over onto its side. I had the attention of several other guardians then, their laser eyes on my armor, but I didn't give them time to fire on me. I dashed forward with the slate, slapping it to the exposed underbelly of the guardian.
"It took a moment to take effect, a moment in which the guardians around me charged, their whines building higher and higher, just like yours does! But the underside of the guardian changed color, the magenta flickering out, then glowing blue. The insides of the guardian still needed to turn over, needed to ‘reboot’ Purah calls it. But my work was done, and I ducked behind a wall to disappear from the guardians' sight.
"All the guardian’s sight but one. There was one red dot resting on my chest. So I pulled out my shield and faced it. The charging guardian was immobile across the lake of malice, but it was staring straight at me, it's eye glowing into a bright, white ball. It shot. I held steady. Then at the perfect moment, I shoved my shield against the blast so it bounced back across the lake, and the guardian exploded."
The baby is thoroughly distracted from his fussing. It’s not surprising as he likes to look at her face and hear the sound of her voice. She can tell Paya and Claree are listening too.
"I moved around the tower, neutralizing some guardians and destroying others. I kept going until the stalker arrived.
"Stalkers have long octorock legs, and snapping claws, and they move about. With four dots on my back, I froze the stalker and ran towards it, skidding beneath it as the chains broke. The turret guardians at the tower lost sight of me, and the one above me spun around in confusion. I had to crouch and try to stay with it, keeping the slate pressed against it as it stumbled around.
"But the guardian’s programming turned over, and a new display popped up on the slate: leg movement, head rotation, laser. I had it lift itself higher so I didn't have to crouch as much, and I aimed it back towards the tower. Every guardian eye was on us, and I had the stalker take out the turrets as quickly as possible. Explosions surrounded the tower’s base, boom boom boom boom! A blast crashed against my stalker, and I ducked as it rocked backwards. But we righted ourselves and kept shooting, boom boom boom, boom.” With the sound of every explosion, she jiggles the baby’s hand.
"When the coast was clear, I popped out from underneath it, and patted the guardian’s side, because he was a very good boy, even if he was simply following his programming.
"There wasn't a good way to cross the lake of malice, so I climbed up on top of the guardian, finding my feet on the flat part of its head and holding onto its crown. Guardians have a smooth gait as they walk. Much smoother than a horse. And it glided into the lake, its legs sinking into the muck. It took me to the base of the tower, then went about its business patrolling while I climbed.”
They pass the old training camp, Woodland Stable inching into view. The baby has dozed off. Not the deep sleeps he has after eating, but a light one where he'll wake up soon and want attention. She rubs his back.
"You're so funny bragging to a baby," Claree says, a bright smile on her face.
"He likes a good scary story," Zelda says. He still has a firm grip on her finger, and she doesn't have the heart to pull free.
Paya speaks up for the first time since they left the Lost Woods. "You said...that sometimes you can hear P-prince Link. Did-Did you hear him at the top of the tower?"
Zelda keeps her eyes on the baby. He has exceptionally thick eyelashes and pudgy cheeks that she wants to touch all the time. Sometimes looking at him fills her with so much love that she knows there must be something chemical to it.
"Yes," she says. "I heard him."
"What did he say?"
"He asked me to remember."