World Tree MUSH

  The ritual to restore Link's rightful form to him had gone off without a hitch, except for the part where the curse wasn't fully undone. Temporary relief had been an acceptable outcome, though, and the princess had been satisfied with that, even as she had surrendered the last of her strength and let the Chosen Hero carry her back to camp.

  Zelda hasn't woken for several hours, but that probably isn't a surprise. Every time she reaches for the power that slumbers within her blood, it doesn't end well for her. No mortal was meant to wield the powers of Her Grace at their fullest. Perhaps she may be better suited than most, but she isn't wholly an exception, either.

  Exhaustion is a small price to pay for helping Link.

  Now, hours later, some time in the middle of the night, the princess stirs and sits up in her bedroll, mumbling under her breath. There is a ferocious pounding in her head, and it's too demanding to roll over and ignore it. It lessens somewhat by sitting up, but it still has her squinting even in the light of the hearth.

  Which, she notes with some satisfaction, she's still near. Someone also helped her out of her ceremonial dress and into her travelling clothes. Some distant, detached part of her mind hopes that was Rydia or Yumi and not Cecil or Link.

  "Ugh." Hands rise to rub at her face, and she lowers them, taking stock of the hearth. She'd brought in plenty of melted snow, earlier, and it's in an iron pot ready to be hoisted over the fire... but if she tries to pick it up, it won't end well. She barely has the strength for that even under normal circumstances.

  ...It feels a little crummy to rely on the Chosen Hero for manual labour, but he is pretty handy with it, and she knows she's in no shape to. And he doesn't really care, when it comes down to it. He's not the one carrying around a guilt complex!

  Zelda sighs and hunkers down over her bedroll.

  "Link?"

  It's soft, tentative; just in case the goatherd is napping.

The Chosen Hero hasn't gone far. As soon as the initial wave of exhaustion was gone, he went off to fetch the wolf he'd killed just prior to being turned back. Then he'd stewed it, because there really wasn't any better way to cook the wolfos meat, and he wasn't a cook to start with.

The sound of Zelda's voice elicits a response from a distance down the hallway. Link wanders into sight carrying a couple of bowls, his expression slightly puzzled. He didn't expect Zelda to be awake so soon -- /he/ didn't really feel like being awake so soon, but there was a certain urgency to the situation he couldn't quite put his finger on. It was like a fuse was lit and he knew he had to outrun it, but not why or how it got lit in the first place.

"Somethin' wrong?" He asks, pushing one of the bowls into Zelda's hands. It's stew. It looks like he found some mushrooms and other plants to stick in them. They're safe-- they've eaten similar before. But there's no telling where he even managed to find them. A cave, maybe?

Relieved of the extra bowl, Link resumes eating his own stew. He sighs heavily as he chews on a piece of -- admittedly stringy -- meat, and says, "Ain't ever going to have a cause to understand the difference, Queenie, but things taste so much better when y'know how they're gonna taste first. Ain't everything that works like this works when you're an overgrown dog."

He makes a face.

"Lots more stuff that'll make you sick'n you'd figure, too. /Anyway/... did you need somethin'?"

  The princess blinks owlishly, because there is now a bowl of something in her hands. Understanding settles in once she gets a good whiff of it. Stew is a good food for horrifically cold climates like this, and stewing is about the only way to make a wolfos palatable.

  She's still staring blankly at the bowl after he asks her if something's wrong, identifying the other ingredients in slow motion. Hylian herb. Hylian mushroom, the kind safe for cooking. A handful of more flavourful herbs that are common enough not to arouse suspicion.

  Automatically she takes a spoonful of the stuff, still squinting a little. It's several more bites before she's capable of really deliberate speech, and it seems to bring some colour back to her, too.

  Amazing how something so hard to cook can be so good stewed. Wolfos are notoriously unpalatable, like the meat of so many predators, but stewing things always seems to improve their flavour. Or give them some kind of flavour, when they don't have any.

  Could be as simple as just having something hot in a cold climate, though. The cold has a way of creeping into everything. It steals in through gaps in the bedroll, through weak points in clothing; steals the very breath from the lungs when venturing outside.

  Once she's gotten enough in her to actually engage in conversation, the princess glances over, lifting a brow once what he said actually sinks in.

  It doesn't occur to her that she's staring at Link until several spoonfuls later, and she drops her gaze back to her bowl. At least the kitchens had been full of useful utensils and dishware; untouched. The biggest of the cauldrons had needed some serious scrubbing out, but it had been a relatively simple task, and they were serviceable, forged of good quality iron.

  "Oh." It takes her several seconds to register the fact that Link is talking in her general direction. "Um." Zelda blinks owlishly, wrapping her fingers around the bowl for a few minutes to warm them. It takes several more seconds to really register what's being said. "Sorry, what? Oh. Well, I'd think so. It must be good to taste things again..."

  Did she need something? Zelda moves a shoulder, barely. "I... actually, I was going to ask for a cup of tea. I don't think I can move the pot... but, this is better."

  Another several spoonfuls disappear. "...I didn't know you could cook."

The realization that Zelda is not a morning person settles in across the span of about two and a half seconds. She spends way too much time just staring at the bowl and not answering the question. Link wonders if she's worrying about how she got re-dressed-- he'd left that to other people. Not that he was really squeamish about it or embarrassed, but he figured she would be. So he left it to other people.

Either way, it's night and day differences to him. He's used to being up at the crack of dawn. He even told her as much the last time they 'talked' -- people on Ordon tend to brag about how ludicrously early they get up in the morning.

He glances between the pot in the room, and the fire. Link nods and sets his bowl aside on the mantle, hauling the iron pot over the fire with the casual ease of a horse bearing its rider. It simply doesn't register as a real problem to him, or seem to trouble him in any way.

"Tastin' things proper is nice. Can still taste things as a wolf, just... you know. Tastes different. Real different. Can't explain it too well." He says.

Link moves back from the pot over the fire, picks his bowl back up, and takes another mouthful. He blinks down at Zelda, swallows, and shrugs broadly.

"I ain't much of a cook, but I can make /stew/ alright. Guess I could cook some eggs if had ta. An' I can make cheese... uh... let's see..."

"Reckon that's about it, actually. What about you?"

  "Ughhhh." It's a soft and incredibly vague complaint, but it probably shakes out to mean that the princess doesn't really want to be awake right now.

  Throughout their travels she had always risen reasonably early in the morning, usually with the sun, despite consistently taking the midnight watch. It could be that the princess is very much a morning person, but there's no way to tell in these extenuating circumstances. The constant nightmares make restful sleep an impossibility.

  On top of that, she keeps exhausting her power, and that in turn seems to exhaust her, if not incapacitate her, as Link found out while carrying her back to camp. She's a morning person. In fact, she likes sunrise; it's peaceful, and somehow hopeful.

  But right now her body is telling her 'screw sunrise, sleep more.'

  She's a sucker for worthy causes, though, and a little personal exhaustion is a small price to pay. She can sleep when she's dead. A bit of a morbid outlook to take, but Hyrule itself has been a little morbid, lately.

  "Sometimes, I think you might be better off not tasting anything." Zelda nudges her bowl a bit, swilling the stew around in it. "Especially some of the things I've seen you eat."

  Is she a decent cook? Zelda chuckles, though it isn't much more than a breath. "Of course I can, but surprisingly, royalty does not a culinary chef make." It's a joke. "I can handle the basics, but that's about the extent of it. I suppose you hadn't really had any reason to notice, coming up the mountain. Although really, there's not much to notice." The princess shrugs. Maybe it's just his backwater hick ways, but it's easier to be just a little less formal around him. Or, maybe she's just that exhausted. "Average, like I said."

"Sorry. Guess yer worn out because of me." Link remarks, a little sheepishly. He gathers the contents of his bowl with a light stir of his spoon, and raises it to his face to tip it back and finish it off. Must just be broth left at this point. He wipes at his lips with the back of his bracer, and sets the bowl aside on the mantle for later cleaning. Nnnnnope, he doesn't eat in polite company very often.

He keeps his spoon in hand to gesture with, though.

Which he does a moment later, flicking the end of it in Zelda's direction as the water boils, "You've been havin' nightmares, right? Ain't nothin' I can do with it right now, but maybe I can give ya another reason to shuffle Ordon up the priority list. We got some weeds out there-- kind of a nuisance themselves-- but we've got some weeds out there that are good for gettin' proper sleep if somethin' is stopping you."

"Had to use some once when a goat caught my arm between its horns and broke it afore I could get loose." He adds, with a faux-wince. "Spring healed me right back up though, but it still hurt like hell for a little while yet."

He shrugs, fidgetting with the spoon, "I taste stuff, just don't taste the same. Got a dog's tastes and stomach. Just 'bout anything tastes good-- like everything tastes good when you're hungry, y'know? It's like that, only everything tastes that way."

Link nods.

"So 'bout enough to be takin' care of yourself if you've gotta, and not much else. Same here. Just different methods. Betcha I've eaten things your lot wouldn't touch. Kin'na surprised you'd eaten Wolfos before all this, though."

He casts a glance towards the iron pot.

"You, er... you know how to prepare it from here, right? I mostly drink milk and water, ain't ever troubled with tea before. Or you can tell me how to get it done, I don't reckon I mind."

  "Consider it even. If not for my actions, you wouldn't be cursed. I wish I could say this is the end of it, but... I don't think I have the power to hold it." Zelda looks down at her right hand, studying the crest. It's faded against her pale skin, the power of the goddesses exhausted. "You'll probably change back. I don't know when, but..."

  She blinks somewhat owlishly when there's a spoon abruptly flicked in her direction, brow furrowing a little. "Um?" Nightmares? "W-well, yes, but that's hardly a secret... oh. Yes. I'm familiar with them, but they don't generally grow outside of the forest." So, another good, compelling reason to go to Ordona.

  There's another compelling reason, but she'll get to that in a few moments.

  When he describes breaking his arm between the horns of an Ordon goat, she winces, and there's nothing faux about it. "I did that, once, only I'd been thrown from my horse. It was unpleasant. I hadn't needed anything like that, though. It had been a mostly clean break."

  "Like smelling," she supplies, in response to his trying to describe how things taste as a giant mutt. "Different." Too different to find any common point of reference to.

  She's getting pretty used to that.

  "It was more accidental than anything else. There wasn't anything else to cook at the time, and since my father had already killed the thing and skinned it, there was no sense wasting the carcass." Zelda shrugs. "I wouldn't seek it out by choice, but we've hardly had that luxury in Snowpeak."

  "I do." Zelda allows herself a brief smile, scooting forward to take up two of the stoneware cups they've been using. She does pause, eyeing him. "Would you like a cup?"

"Naw. Probably woulda ended up cursed anyhow. That Bulbin woulda knocked me over the head and dragged me off regardless. I was in trouble whether you did what you did or not." Link replies, shrugging again. "I don't rightly know why he bothered takin' me prisoner. They took some other folks too, I gotta get around to rescuing them sooner or later. But they didn't seem keen on killin' me, so I don't reckon they're keen on killin' them, either. Definitely ain't killing any other commonfolk."

"Don't know why. Just ain't."

He grins, tapping his opposite hand with the spoon, "Break wasn't that bad. Just no good reason to mend it the slow way if you've gotta work every day. An' I do, so into the spring I went. We mend a lot of injuries that way."

"Hard to imagine /you/," He boops her lightly on an arm with his spoon, "ridin' hard enough to take a nasty fall like that. But I guess I've only seen you when you're tired, mostly."

To the offer of tea, Link smiles broadly and nods enthusiastically, "Ain't a big tea drinker, but it's too damned cold up here for me to turn somethin' warm down, and there ain't no coffee and hot water just don't feel right. I'll give it a try. Don't promise I'll like it too well, but I'm not s'pecially picky."

Leaning back against the wall, he rubs at the back of his head awkwardly.

"About the curse thing," he nods at Zelda, "I kin'na figured something like that was goin' on. I think it'll probably end once I'm wiped out. Ever since I changed back I've been tuckered right out. I s'pose when I'm fallin' asleep slapped-silly tired I'll probably change back."

"S'all right. You did what you could. I'll enjoy it while it lasts. We gotta find some stronger witchy stuff, though. Maybe that thing Midna wanted..."

  "Perhaps the spread of the Twilight had emboldened them, even then." Zelda frowns thoughtfully. "I can't think of why they might bother to take prisoners. They're famously stupid, otherwise. That, or they've been following the orders of something stronger than they are."

  Like Zant. Or whatever power it is Zant answers to.

  She flinches when booped on the arm with a spoon, but more because she wasn't expecting it than anything else, turning to look down at the offending spoon. Her brows furrow a little. "You haven't even seen me in the saddle," she counters, with a faint half-smile, but it fades fast. "Or in my element. This--" And here she gestures with her own spoon to indicate Snowpeak or maybe Hyrule as a whole, "--is not my element." Not even remotely.

  "Worry not. I'll try to make it palatable to you." The princess sets to preparing two cups; a little sugar, dug up from some nosing around the storerooms, which has somehow survived decades -- thanks to the clay vesels it was sealed into, it managed to keep nicely. It's a well-earned luxury for the travellers of the snowy mountains.

  Once she's finished doctoring a cup, she offers it to him. "Here. This isn't as strong as I usually prefer, but it's not too bitter or pungent. In fact, it should be a little bit sweet."

  Her own she cradles in hand, setting aside her dishes, which she'll deal with when she can trust herself to stand up without passing out. Later, in other words. Much later.

  "I don't think my own power is enough." The princess' observation is a little toneless, and she pauses to take a sip, hissing a little -- it's still piping hot. "If we were in Hyrule Castle, and I had access to the temple complex the eve of Nayru's Day when the moon is high... if I were able to call down Her Grace's power in full... it might be enough. Even then, though, I have my doubts. And as I have discovered in my experiences here, the effort would still be dangerous."

  She looks down at her tea. "There is something that would help you, but it isn't Midna's relic. I wouldn't be able to wield something of hers. More than that, I don't think any relic of her people was ever meant to undo something this powerful." Zelda folds her hands more securely around her stoneware cup. "I know all of this is one and the same to you; it's all 'witchy...' but try to understand, Link. What Zant did to you... it isn't natural. None of this is natural. Something is twisting the natural order of things; upsetting the balance of Nayru's law. That's what I want you to understand: Something is terribly, desperately wrong."

  "It's my duty to find out what, and why, and how to stop it. The first step in that is to restore you to your rightful form. You may not mind it, terribly, but if we're to have any hope of all at throwing that bullying coward from my throne, you will need your full abilities."

  Her eyes hood a little. "You spoke of swordplay to Sir Cecil. There is something that will cut through this curse... you're not going to like it, I think. It will bind you to this role that you never asked for." She lifts her gaze to the Chosen Hero, leaning back against the wall. "Legends speak of a blade sleeping deep within Faron Wood, wielded by the heroes of past eras. It is a sacred force, so holy that no evil can touch it."

  "It is the Blade of Evil's Bane. The Master Sword. And I have a feeling that it may be the only thing that can lift Zant's power for good." Zelda frowns a little, drumming her finger . "I... didn't want to seek out the blade. Not really. It was the last remaining sign that the ancient prophecies are at play. But I think we don't have a choice, not any more. I had hoped my power was enough... but it isn't."

  She looks up to him. "Neither of us want the roles given to us. I didn't ask for this; not any more than you did." Her smile is a little bleak. She's tired, always tired; and the weight of destiny is suffocating sometimes. "We'll just have to make the best of it together, I suppose. But I'll be there to support you, and to teach you whatever you need to know. Hopefully Courage can reach its true potential, with Wisdom to guide it, yes...?"

"Ohh, they had a smarter one steerin' 'em alright. Biggest Bulbin I ever did see. Which is sayin' somethin', because they get pretty big if y'don't cull 'em every now and again." Link says, taking his spoon between his fingers and holding his hands apart to indicate sheer size. "This one though, ain't seen anything like that before. Rode about on a boar big enough to eat a man all by itself. Not that boars ain't hard enough to deal with, but this one was /huge/."

"Near as I can tell they weren't there to do much killin'. Coulda, if they wanted to."

He nods affirmatively, "Well, I haven't seen you when you weren't laid out by this thing or that. But still, you don't have that look about you. Don't carry yourself that way. But I s'pose that horseback riding is pretty important even in Castle Town, and everybody has accidents sometime. Ain't ever had an accident with a horse, myself. Plenty with goats though."

"The horns are somethin' else to account for. Can't gouge you too good, but boy can they put a dent in things. Bite pretty decent, too."

He takes the tea with a nod, and gives it a sip too quick. Link makes a face -- it hasn't cooled enough to be comfortable to drink yet, so it burns the tip of his tongue before he swallows it. But he doesn't see fit to complain about it. Just waits until it's cooled off a little before he gives it another try.

But to all the talk of temples and moons, rightness and wrongness, the natural order and its distortion...

The Chosen Hero just looks confused. He smiles, and tosses his head, "I'll leave the witchy nonsense to you. Don't sweat makin' me understand. I believe you, even if I don't really get it."

As to the matter of the Master Sword though, Link chortles -- nearly snorting his tea in the process -- and leans back with a big doofy grin on his face. He replies, "Queenie, if y'think /I/ can touch that thing, you may have another thing comin' to you. I heard a lot of legends about a lot of swords, but you want me to reach for /that/ one? Nah. Let's go see the spirits first."

"I don't want to get struck down tryin' to pull a holy blade. Maybe if it was one of the other ones, but not /that/ one. Unless the spirits say I oughta, too..."

Link sighs, ill-spiritedly.

"Then I s'pose we'll have a go at it."

  "I want to look into that once we arrive in Ordona. I'll make time, if I have to. Monsters coming together and uniting under a single banner is dangerous." Normally they squabble too much to pose a significant threat, but something like King Bulblin fielding an army is dangerous to everyone in the province. It might be a stupid brute, but it's a stupid brute the smaller ones fear enough to follow. "Before we leave, though, I'd at least like to see the roof repaired. I want something to come back to."

  She doesn't look like someone who'd ride a horse at a breakneck gallop, he says in so many words, and she lifts a brow over the rim of her teacup. "Mmmmm?" It's all she can really say with a mouthful of tea. She swallows before continuing, with a slightly self-depreciating smile. "I do have a few practical skills. You've just never seen me ride. I've had accidents, too, but it would be a little suspicious if I hadn't."

  Eyeing him when he drinks his tea too fast, there's a slight cringe of sympathy. Oww.

  "Mmn. I'll ask the Light Spirits, but they've been silent for months." Zelda sounds a little less confident on this. "I don't think they're going to break their silence. Zant did something to them. I have a feeling I won't have any answers until I can examine a sacred spring for myself. Ordona is as good as any."

  The princess leans against the wall beside him, studying her teacup as though it might give her answers, watching the flicker of the hearth in its reflections.

  She looks up when he laughs the Master Sword off, eyeing him thoughtfully for a few long moments.

  Zelda shrugs. "No. It wouldn't do that." She sounds pretty confident about that. "Anyway, I'm not asking you to wield it; it's the most sacred relic I know, and it should have the power to restore you to your rightful form. Permanently. If it so happens that you're meant to wield it, all the better. It will suffer no evil; Zant's power would then be no match for it."

  There's a long moment of silence as she leans back against the wall, and after a few seconds she glances over, watching him, though not unsympathetically.

  "I'm sorry. You didn't ask for any of this." She shakes her head. The princess must be a little tired, still; she leans against him, slightly, but she doesn't seem to realise the slight shift in her balance. "When all of this is over... I hope you can return to Ordona, peacefully. I'll see to it that your name is kept quiet."

"Ain't a stupid brute, trust me." Link says, not at all reassuringly. He cracks his neck and explains, "That bunch came in a coupla waves, staggered-like so that they'd be able to get done whatever it was they were up to. Still don't get it, either, so it musta been a pur-etty devious plan. I slapped the first raid 'round like a buncha kids with sticks. Woulda been alright with the second wave if that big fella hadn't shown up and whacked me on the head. After /that/..."

"Well, that's when I got dragged away by those shadow beasts. Don't reckon they knew what to make of me turnin' into a wolf instead of a spirit like everybody else, so I s'pose it makes sense that they threw me in the dungeon after that instead of finishing me off."

He shakes his head, "Nah. Not suspicious. Some people are just like that. Not to brag too much, but they tell me I'm too good by half at too many things. Don't reckon it's all that weird for Princesses and Queens to have managed their lessons without any /real/ accidents. Anyhow, it don't matter much that I haven't seen you at this kinda thing."

"Can't rightly see you getting up to much of interest when you're all laid up all the time."

To the matter of the Light Spirits, Link smiles toothily. "Don't mean by rituals or what-have-you. I mean goin' up to where they oughta be. Prolly gotta clear out all the Twilight muck to get it done. /This/ place don't have one that I know of, but Ordon is small, so if we start there it oughta be a good provin' ground for what might work and what might not."

"An' if we're going to the trouble of dragging the sword of legends out, damn right I'm going to wield it. I just don't wanna be bothered before we're sure it's the only option."

Link reacts only lightly to Zelda's leaning, glancing sidelong at her with a slightly odd expression, then back down into his teacup. He waves his free hand dismissively, "Don't want my name hushed up none. Seemed to make rattlebones awfully upset the same thing happened to him. Me, I don't want to go roaming around buggin' the next guy like rattlebones is, so do the opposite and tell everybody."

"Not that I mind that much. Kinda rough, but he's taught me a few neat tricks with a sword. But I sure as hell don't want to be doing that in... however long it's been since he died."

  The information about the Bulblins is taken in silently. Some small part of her had hoped the thing wasn't intelligent, but it's not unreasonable. That's just how their luck seems to run, lately. Problems piled on top of problems. The only constant is that the priorities are always shifting.

  "I'll deal with them when we're able. Having a raiding party within Hyrulean borders is unacceptable," Zelda states softly. "It's also likely that they're taking orders from Zant."

  She only shrugs when he says how unlikely her equestrian skills are. Maybe someday she'll have a chance to show him, but right now it's at the bottom of the priority list.

  "I know," she clarifies, to the issue of the Light Spirits. "I've tried ritual. They aren't listening. Or they're unable to listen, more likely. The only thing left to me is to go there and investigate. If there's anything left of them, maybe they can tell me what's happened."

  Zelda blinks somewhat owlishly when he says he doesn't want his role in all of this covered up. "No?" Oh. Rattlebones. She'd met him once or twice. Horrifying, a little, but generally well-meaning. Strangely familiar. "In that case, I'll make sure the kingdom hears of it. You'll be knighted, if that's what you want." The princess flicks a spare hand almost dismissively. "It's the least I can do."

"Eh. I can take care of it once I'm permanently un-cursed. I've gotten a lot better at fightin' since the start." Link rolls a shoulder -- the opposite of the one Zelda is leaning against. "Anyhow-- did you say you were pretty good with a bow? You oughta show me. I can call Epona over and get all my gear offa her. Got a bow, got some arrows. Got that sword. Shield too, come to think of it. Midna wanted one for somethin' or another. I reckon so she could use it with her hair. Couldn't ever really tell what it was she was doin' from my back, y'know?"

"You might be right about them bulblins being commanded by Zant. But I d'no, I reckon that a Bulblin that big could make 'em go all on his own, if he wanted. I don't imagine the whole lot of 'em following him coulda taken him on in a fight even if they wanted to."

"Can't believe I didn't get a chance to fight him for real." He complains, grumpily.

Link drains part of his teacup absent-mindedly, before it gets so cold that it turns nasty in the cup.

"Naw," He says, "I ain't gonna pretend to be all that modest. Probably won't change all that much about how I do things, but I reckon it's better to have people remember you for the good things you do."

"What's being knighted involve, anyhow?" Link asks.

"Ol' Rusl was acquaintances with the daughter of some ol' knight long gone, but I don't reckon I've ever even seen a real one."

  "It's still my responsibility," Zelda points out. "While it's true that I can't be everywhere, it's still my duty to ensure the safety of the people of this kingdom. And while Hyrule may be drowning in problems right now, that doesn't make the Bulblins any less of one."

  She tilts her head a little, eyes hooding. Mention of archery, however, draws some interest; she looks up again. "I insisted that I learn how to defend myself, so I was taught archery and fencing. I enjoy archery. I never learned how to use a shield, though. Most of them are too heavy for me, and anything light enough won't offer any defense."

  "Maybe he could've ordered them by himself," Zelda muses, "but... have you noticed? In the Twilight? Most of those monsters don't change too much. The forms they take are still useful, so it would make sense that Zant's ordering them. They'll answer to anyone or anything stronger than they are."

  She swills her own tea around, draining it and setting her cup aside as well. It has no cream, so it wouldn't congeal in the cup, but it loses a little something once it's gone cold. Folding her arms loosely over her stomach, she leans back against the wall, closing her eyes.

  "Maybe." This, on being remembered for the good. She glances up. Knighting? "Hm?"

  "It's a ceremony. A... 'witchy' one. It would, in better times, take place in the Temple of Hylia, in Hyrule Castle. You probably wouldn't like that in and of itself. Public recognition of your deeds, more or less. I go on about your courage and your service until I'm ready to be somewhere else, and you kneel before me and listen until your knees begin to ache on the marble floor of the temple."

  She shrugs. "Nothing happens. It's really just a formality. Then I touch my sword to each of your shoulders, and finally your head, and I bid you to stand, Sir Link, as the crowd cheers and throws the petals of auspicious flowers."

  "I have every confidence that you would find it dreadfully boring. It does, however, afford you a little more freedom within the castle. No one's going to gainsay a Knight of Hyrule. Especially not when it was on my choice and recommendation." Zelda gestures loosely, shutting her eyes. "You'd have free roam throughout Hyrule Castle, and the only places you wouldn't be permitted are the same places most knights aren't permitted -- royal quarters, the archival library, that sort of thing. Not that any of it matters. I expect there's not much of the castle left. That ignorant coward set the whole of it on fire."

  "Actually," she corrects herself, sliding her eyes open and regarding the fire in the hearth, "I suppose I could name you my personal bodyguard, and then no one would dare question my decision to knight you. Most of the time, it's the aristocracy that enjoys that kind of favour; some of them earn it, some of them don't. Knighting a goatherd is unheard-of... but I intend to do it all the same."

  She pauses, glancing toward him, and reaching out to pluck at his Ordon garb.

  "Ah... you'd also be outfitted with proper weapons, and good steel armour. We can't have our knights running around in goat-fur sandals, you know."

  It's a joke.

  Probably.

  Maybe...?

  Yeah, she's got one of those faint half-smiles. Definitely a joke.

"Yep. It is. But see," Link finishes off his tea in one great inadvisable gulp and sets it aside, using the free hand to jab lightly at Zelda's shoulder, "if you make me a Knight, then it's your problem but my solving it is you solving it. That's how that works, innit? So just make me a knight and let me take care of it. Promise ya I can get it done this time. Fat bastard ain't gonna take my back again. I'll pick that stupid boar up and throw him up a tree." The fact that this is /weirdly personal/ should probably come as no surprise. It -is- his village, after all.

He leans over a little -- this /probably/ finally exposes Zelda to the fact that she's been leaning on him -- and gives her a good looking over. Then he shakes his head, "Naw. I can come up with a shield y'could use if you wanted to. If you can handle drawin' a bow enough to be any kin'na use, there's a few types of shields that won't wear y'out. It ain't like the big sturdy one I got -- I think it's actually an old knight's shield, wasn't really payin' attention when Midna had me nick it -- but the point of it ain't to be a big sturdy thing exactly."

"You make it small and curved, and you use the slope of the surface to deflect incomin' blows. It's the same idea as a helmet or... well, or a skull. You hit somebody in the head dead on, the shape of the skull can make your blow slip. Helmet does the same thing without riskin' your head."

"If you're a fencer, a buckler'd do you good."

Link leans back. "Ain't just the monsters," he says, "the animals keep their shape, too. Don't know why. Ain't gonna assume everything is the Twilight King's doin' until we know for sure. Don't want to expect only one enemy and turn out to have two of 'em."

He listens to the explanation of the knighting ceremony. The whole thing sounds like a pointless mess to him. Once she's done, Link replies: "All that /does/ sound boring. We'll spice it up. People're gonna need somethin' to look forward to after all of this is over anyhow, so we can make that a part of it all."

"Gonna need better food than wolfos stew."

Link looks down at his own clothes. They're not fashionable, even in Ordon Village. They're nice and breathy, if a bit scatterblasted in terms of overall garments. Really, he'd have preferred a simpler outfit to go adventuring in.

"Got a proper weapon. My bow's my bow. The shield I've got'll do. Armor... eh, we'll see how it goes. From the sound of it you plan on replacing my sword ta begin with. Don't reckon you can give me a better one than that one, if it came down to it."

He chortles, "No objections 'bout the sandals though. Kinda wish I had somethin' better than those already. No good in the snow."

"You gonna stop wearin' capes with deep spooky hoods?" He jabs back.

  "Fair enough." There's a certain tempting quality to knighting Link and just throwing him at the local monster patrol. He's good at bashing things in the head, and she knows it'll get done. "He's all yours. Two hundred rupees if you can actually get the overgrown pig into a tree."

  Is she serious about that bet? It's hard to tell. She might be. She might just be tired and a little punchy.

  She blinks when he leans over, and he can probably see the dawning expression of horror once she realises what she's been doing, but then it's gone, because he's busy detailing what she can do about carrying a shield. The princess shrugs her opposite shoulder. "Maybe. I've never bothered carrying one, but a buckler would probably be about the shape of it."

  "...I know how shields work," she adds, with a bland half-smile. "My instructor was the Captain of the Guard, and he knew how to wield every weapon in the armoury." Too bad it didn't really save him from the Twilight creepy-crawlies.

  "I don't know how useful a shield would be to me. If someone's gotten in that closely, I'm better off parrying. I'd probably be better off sticking to my rapier. It's more instinctive for me to parry with a blade than to parry with a shield."

  "Most of the wildlife seems unaffected," Zelda agrees. "Even the monsters vary. Some of them are more useful, some of them are just bizarre and strange. I don't think all of it is the fault of the Twilight King, but it's probably a combination. I expect he's just using what resources he sees are available to him. Convenient for him. A damned nuissance for us. I do wonder why one of his beasties was hiding in the tower, though. There's not even a Light Spirit to attract him here."

  

  Oh. He wants to spice up the ceremonies. "Did I mention there's ale? Goron-made ale. Imported hops from Hyrule Field, spices and seasoning straight from Death Mountain. The whole of Castle Town will be roaring drunk by the evening bell, if not by noontide, so don't worry about spicing things up. I expect after the Twilight is banished, Hyrule is going to be one riotous celebration for at least a week."

  "I was going to hold my coronation after this nonsense is dealt with, but I think I may wait until my subjects are actually /sober/." Despite what might seem a catty statement, the princess' tone is one of tolerant affection. Let the people have their fun. They've more than earned it.

  Zelda glances over, looking over his outfit somewhat dubiously. "That's probably more comfortable than it looks. I have some skill with needle and thread; I'll see if I can't stitch you something a little more practical, and a little more useful for the weather here. I doubt you'll be able to use it before you're transformed into a wolf again, but it'll be there for the next time. I can do this again after I've had time to rest."

  "It might be good just to remember what it's like to be a man," she says softly. "I don't know how deeply those instincts run. They may be useful, but I wouldn't want them eclipsing your true self."

  Shifting slightly, she makes no secret of leaning against him now, resting her head on his shoulder, though she's still turned slightly away from him. "Sorry," she offers, quietly. "Don't think I'm being too forward or familiar. I'm just cold. I haven't been warm since we started climbing this goddess-forsaken mountain."

  "I'll also find you a good pair of boots. Something comfortable, like mine." Those, at least, aren't impractically ornate. They're quite plain in fact for royal garb. "Honestly, I don't know how you can even ride in those sandals, let alone herd goats."

  Zelda considers for a moment.

  "I'll replace your sword with something stronger, but I'll need help from the Gorons to do it. They're master metalsmiths, and if they still uphold their side of the alliance, it's a small request to make of them. A trivial use of their skill." She lets her eyes drift closed. "Did you know? Most of the armour and weapons of the Royal Guard are not produced in Hyrule. They're Goron-made. The steel is much finer."

  Cloaks with spooky hoods?

  "It's warm and comfortable," she retorts. "And it's not sinister. It was originally meant as a mourning cloak. It just happened to be what I got hold of on my way out of the castle. Fortunately, it's also good at hiding my face."

"Two hundred, huh." Link repeats. It's easy to see the wheels turning in his head, tryign to figure out if he /can/ do it, and if he can't how to accomplish it anyway. A lever of some kind would probably do it. But how could he /prove/ that he had done it? Decisions, decisions. It'd probably need to be by his own strength, so a lever is acceptable because it's just an amplifier but bombs aren't because... well, they're bombs.

"Eh? I mean, of course y'do. It's just that shields like the one I'm talkin' about, they're even more about that kinda thing than the ones you're prolly used to. I think..." He seems uncertain about that, since his first visit to the capitol was after it was ransacked and there wasn't really anybody else around to identify by their weapon competencies.

Or shield competencies.

Why the Twilight monster was here, though... that's a good question. Link rubs at his chin thoughtfully... there aren't /many/ possible explanations. "I reckon there's a few reasons to come up here," he replies, "but if I gotta pin one down I'd say... well, the Twilight King's a person, right? Maybe those monsters of his ain't really just monsters. Maybe it came up here 'cause it was interested, an' when it ran into us it felt cornered. They're pretty smart. Wouldn't surprise me if they were just his grunts."

"... Heyyy, why're you tellin' me about the worst bits of it if /that's/ goin' on in the middle of it? I ain't much of a drinker truth told, but I'm plenty at ease at the kin'na celebrations we throw in Ordon Village. Never had goron ale, tho'."

Regarding his outfit: "Ain't comfortable up here. Don't make clothes suited for up here down there. It's warm near year-'round. S'why it makes such good farmland. I would appreciate a decent set of boots for the next time though, for sure."

Again, Link just doesn't react to the touching or the head-resting. It's just like when he was a wolf. It's sort of /unnatural/, actually.

"/My/ sword is as good as I need it t'be." He insists, stubbornly. "But no, I didn't know that at all. Never could figure why you ordered a sword from us every now and again."

Link makes a face, half-playful, half-sour. He asks, "You think wearin' a mourning cloak around /ain't/ kinda sinister? You're not wrong 'bout the hidin' your face bit, though."

  "Two hundred." Zelda closes her eyes while Link goes on figuring out how to make the most out of this bet. She half-dozes while he schemes, though she's already resigned herself to losing two hundred rupees. It's a small price to pay. The diversion will be interesting, and it's sure to be amusing.

  His commentary on shields is more or less glossed over. She does slide an eye open at his musings on the Twilight Messenger, though. "Ostensibly. An unstable person, but a person, nonetheless." Where he's going with his conversational thread isn't very reassuring, though, and she falls silent. That will warrant investigation. If that really is the case... she's going to have to be sure, and they're going to have to develop non-lethal ways to deal with them.

  He's never had Goron ale, he says, and she smiles thinly. The stuff's vile in her opinion, but everyone has different tastes. He might like it. Kick and all. "You'll have your chance."

  She shuts her eyes again.

  "Then keep your sword. I can still have you outfitted for proper armour, though. You may not need it, but you'll look the part, that much is sure." She opens an eye. Ordering swords? "I didn't," she answers, serenely. "My grandmother did. I couldn't say why, but she did a lot of things that still don't make sense to me. She was much more in tune with the goddesses than I am. I can only assume that she had her reasons. Maybe she admired swords. Maybe they reminded her of something."

  "Only the Author of Law knows for true."

  The princess gently pulls away from the goatherd, pulling herself slowly and carefully to her feet. Having a little food in her has helped; her colour is improved, and so is her sense of balance. She still hesitates for a moment to make sure she isn't going to fall flat again.

  "Well, maybe it's a little sinister, but it is practical. It's warmer than anything else I have, unless you can manage to find another wolfos without mauling it too badly. I can try to make a cloak." She gestures faintly, settling down by her bedroll. "Find me a third, and I'll make one for you, for later. Like Rydia's."

  Yawning, she settles down, flipping the covers back over herself. "In the meantime... sorry. I'm still exhausted. I think I'm going to sleep for another twelve hours..."

  It's hard to tell whether she's actually serious about that or not.

"Prolly not. I don't like being fuzzy-headed much." Link replies, flatly. He's not much of a drinker, though he's known some weirdos in town to make alcoholic milk for whatever reason. It's not something he's liable to embrace, at any rate-- he needs to be alert for pretty much everything he does.

His expression remains wary concerning being outfitted for armor. But, he supposes it's not all bad. The stuff rattlebones wears is pretty nice-looking. Or at least, it would be if it wasn't broken down and covered with moss. The moss and plants were an interesting touch, though.

"What, so you think she ordered a sword 'cause she knew this was comin'? Seems like we'd be better prepared fer all this if what was the case. Guess maybe she just knew /somethin'/ was happening..."

"Already did. Made sure to clean it proper and everything. Not as big as the last one tho. Not sure it'll do either of us much good. Might could make a mantle with a hood, but a full length cloak..."

He looks himself over to judge his own size, and shakes his head.

"But I can go find another. Be a lot easier with a bow, too. Speakin' of--"

Link stops when Zelda yawns, and apologizes. He decides to leave it there-- archery contests can wait until nobody is quite so worn out.

"Alright." He says.

Bereft of anything else to do, Link considers going out on the hunt. It'd be a shame to waste his time with hands. But then again... maybe he should just stay put and make sure things stay alright here.

Deciding that was the right way to go, he settles in front of the hearth and sighs heavily. Temporary, huh...

The Master Sword. Is that really for him? Why not the Four Sword-- or the other one, what was it called? He couldn't quite remember. Those seem more suitable to a person like him.

Oh well.

Nothing to do but see what the future brings.