Chapter Text
“You can’t march into Castle Town, announce the king is a fraud, and expect everyone to just believe you outright,” Minister Lefte pinched the bridge of her nose below her glasses and sighed heavily. Her frustration was pointed at General Wright, but felt by everyone. So much so that Zelda, Lueberry, and Tri had all individually gravitated to opposite sides of the room, leaving her to stand alone in the debate with the returned general of the King’s guard. He’d been healed when they mended the Jabul Waters rift and demonstrated just how unphased he was by the petrification by sprinting the entire way to Lueberry’s and attempting to rally everyone to storm the castle.
The two had been bickering back and forth for the better part of an hour. Things were almost back to normal. Almost.
“It’s the truth!” General Wright roared back, a proud grin tugging at the corner of his mouth, as if those three simple words plugged all the holes Minster Lefte had astutely identified in his logic. The general had always been an overly confident man. He walked into every room with unwavering conviction. Every step he took was heavy-heeled, every word he spoke a declaration. She supposed that’s what made him a good soldier—a good leader. No one wanted to follow a coward into battle.
But it made him a bit of a pain in the ass to work alongside.
“Yes, we know that, but to the people of Castle Town and to your guards, the king never went missing. We never went missing,” Minister Lefte pressed.
“My guards will know it’s the real me,” the general scoffed.
“Will they? Because they threw the real Zelda in the dungeons on the order of the fake king. What is to stop them from believing the fraud when they declare us the imposters and tossing us behind bars? Or worse, they’ll just kill us on the spot! They’ve already called for the Princess' execution.”
Zelda’s wince went unnoticed in the frenzy of advancing arguments and counterarguments. The reminder of it all stung, like a nearly-healed cut had been reopened inside her. She pulled the wool blanket Lueberry had given her tight around her shoulders and glanced across the room to the fire where Link’s cloak, her travel robes, and boots were hung to dry. She’d been soaked to the bone when they showed up at Lueberry’s. The silk pajamas Dohna had gifted her before she left Gerudo Town were soft and dry against her skin, but they were impractical for what was to come.
She’d always known the road would lead her back to the castle. Known she would need to face whatever monster that had usurped her father and the soldiers who had turned on her; all the people who had so easily believed the lies. The argument between General Wright and Minister Lefte was over the ‘when’ and ‘how’ it would be faced. Not ‘if’. There was no refuting the moment was finally upon her.
She’d only hoped to return different from what they all remembered; nothing but fire in her heart and an impressive reputation of valiant acts billowing behind her shoulders like a cape. A cloak of her own making.
But all that was behind her were words. Words she’d unwillingly collected along the way; words that had proven as impossible to outrun as her own shadow because they lived in it. Sure, they’d shrunk in the light of her rising confidence, which had been radiant and bright over her head when she’d entered the last rift. But then her sun had set—it always did. And with it her shadow had grown again, the words sprouting from the darkness.
Though her bomb fish worked and Tri’s friends were freed to mend the rift, she’d been unable to shake the fear that had claimed her in that final submerged cavern—the fear that had reclaimed her.
The horrible sound of her own scream echoed in her head and she shuttered. She’d faced plenty of dangers since fleeing the castle, sure, but she’d faced them all with help. Armed with the things she needed—magic and steel and enough experience to fill an adventure book or two—all she’d proven when she finally faced it on her own was that she was still afraid. That helpless feeling she thought she’d gotten rid of wasn’t gone. Only buried.
She had been scared when she’d left the castle and she remained scared upon her return.
Unchanged.
Her eyes shifted to General Wright as he stomped his feet and gestured wildly to the wall, presumably pointing at the castle in the west. Her castle. Her home. It shouldn’t frighten her more than jumping into shimmering black rifts, or battling monsters made of oil and shadow, but it did.
And no one wanted to follow a coward.
Lueberry hobbled over to where she sat and refilled her tea without asking if she wanted more. Warmth leached through the cup into her fingers, pleasant and welcomed, though not enough to touch the persistent chill deep inside her.
She tried to offer him a grateful smile, but her lips only twitched.
“So, despite mopping up those rifts, there’s still no sign of the king…or Link?” He asked softly, probably so not to disrupt the general and the minister’s quarreling. His face looked tired. No, heavier. Worried.
Zelda’s pulse sputtered and then quickened once more. She knew what he was going to ask before he spoke.
“Did you at least speak to him again?”
He’d come to collect a debt, gentle and humble-hearted, and she was empty-handed. She had no comfort to offer him, no way to repay his kindness—to ease his distress.
The concern in his eyes was so earnest. she knew the truth would shatter him like glass on a stone floor. It was wrong, she knew it was wrong, but she couldn’t bear anymore disappointment. Her own was intolerable.
“He’s doing all right. He,”—she lowered her gaze and blew on her tea, buying an extra few seconds to come up with something that would give the lie a spine—”he can’t wait to have a chocolate scone.”
The old Sheikah let out a chuckle and shook his head, some of the weight disappearing from his face. “I am not surprised. He loves sweets. He’ll never accept money from the people he helps, you know. But a plate of warm cookies, cold ones, even…I’m fairly certain I heard he recently pruned his neighbor’s entire garden with his sword for a bag of candy.”
Part of her wanted to tell him it was true. That she’d seen the bag on Link’s desk, been tempted by the vibrantly colored sweets herself, but the admission died on her tongue.
How could they be so alike, and yet so different? Fear wasn’t anywhere in Link’s reputation. His sword’s magic didn’t even allow it.
“I am surprised he didn’t give you the Bombs of Might. Though, it sounds like you made out just fine with your own,” Lueberry added and gave her a wink.
Coward. Liar. More words in her shadow.
General Wright suddenly let out an indignant wail that made the both of them jump.
“As Hyrule’s general, I cannot stand idly by!” he shouted.
“What is it you intend to do, then?” Minister Lefte cried back, equally incensed, and stomped her foot for added measure.
“Take action, obviously!” The general looked at Zelda expectantly, as if she shared the same level of conviction, and it took everything inside her not to shrink away. “I am going to expose the true identities of those imposters tainting our beloved castle!”
Then he punched the air with his fist and held it there as he rushed out the door. “Chaaaaaarge!”
“Wait! General Wright! For the love of—” Minster Lefte groaned.
The likelihood she would be able to stop him even if she managed to catch him was slim, but she still hurried out the door. Zelda suspected it was because two voices raised against the imposter on the throne were better than one, but the minister's points had still been valid. They would also lose the element of surprise once General Wright marched onto the cobblestones, an element that felt important to have if she and Tri were going to access the rift in the heavily guarded throne room.
It was something Link probably would’ve pointed out to the group before it was too late.
Lueberry turned to her slowly. “So, I’m guessing you’ll be wanting to head to the castle too, then?”
All she could do was nod. What she wanted was to run to her rooms, lock the door, and sleep in her own bed for weeks, but she couldn’t do that. Not yet. Not with her father and Link still missing. Not when there was an imposter on her father’s throne and a large rift festering underneath it. Other people could see Tri now, but their magic hummed in her hands alone.
She was still the only one who could help. For now.
She was going to find Link. And then… then she would step back and let Tri fight beside the real hero. The one they deserved, not the last resort they were left with.
“Those fakes are after your head, Princess, so please proceed with the utmost caution.” He’d retrieved Link’s cloak and her clothing in the time she’d spent lost in her thoughts. When he handled them to her, they were warm in her arms and the cloak was folded neatly on top so the design stitched in robin's egg blue thread was exposed.
Lueberry lingered for a breath and ran a wrinkled hand over it. It was the similar pattern as the carvings on the Might crystals.
“If it's not too much trouble…” When he finally looked up at her, it wasn’t pride or affection that glimmered in his eyes. It was something like guilt, but for what she couldn’t figure out. “Bring my boy home, yes?”
–
At first it looked as if there were flower petals falling from the sky around Castle Town. The cherry blossoms in the courtyard shed their petals every spring, an event she looked forward to each year, but spring wasn’t for months. Summer was just starting to fade when she’d been captured by the blue monster. She couldn't have possibly been gone that long.
Extending her hand out in front of her, one of the petals floated onto her hand just as a scream pierced the eerie quiet from beyond the towering stone walls.
It wasn’t a flower petal. It was ash. Flameless, violet ash.
A rift was burning through Castle Town.