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After four days of traveling, camping out in the Wild, they reach the Gerudo Canyon Stable just past noon.
“Just to clarify,” Link murmurs as they enter, beelining for the table to rest their aching legs before they hit the desert, “As long as you don’t get upset, there’ll be no flares?”
“I assume so,” Zelda whispers back, dropping down onto the chair next to him.
“And you couldn’t use-” he looks at the travelers taking shelter from the heat in the stable interior’s cool air, a group of five Hylians he’s never seen this far out. “Your thing?”
She shakes her head. “I think he was going to tell me more, but then you woke up.”
“And he hasn’t talked to you since?”
Again, Zelda shakes her head. “Three days of nothing. I wonder-”
There’s a yell and a loud crash. Link jumps to his feet and draws the Master Sword, stepping in front of Zelda and her outstretched hand.
A Hylian man is sprawled on the ground, his backpack open beside him and the contents scattered. He hunches on his knees and grasps for something in the dirt, brown eyes squinting as his mop of dark hair ruffles in the weak breeze.
(No one moves to help him.)
Zelda rises from her chair and before Link can stop her she’s approaching the man, crouching down and picking up his fallen glasses from their spot a few feet away.
(It’s not that he doesn’t want to help the man himself, it’s that Zelda’s quite literally a ticking bomb who has no control over the strength or size of the explosion. For all Link knows, so much as getting annoyed at a bug in her face could set her off.)
He stands over her, keeping an eye on both the man and the five travelers hurriedly whispering to each other. The stable attendants are too busy looking through paperwork.
“Here,” Zelda cleans the lenses with the hem of her shirt before placing the man’s glasses into his searching hands.
“Thank you, miss,” The man says, putting the spectacles on his face and blinking up at her, straightening until he’s sitting back on his knees. “I don’t think I’d ever be able to find them myself.”
“Let me help you with the rest of your things.” she gathers what spilled: vials filled each with a single leaf, three pens, and two bundles of blank paper. “Sir-”
“Rossu,” he supplies, taking the objects from her and stuffing them back into his bag, fastening the ties before shrugging it onto his shoulders and holding his hand out to them. “And yours?”
“Link,” Link says, quickly shaking it.
“Link?” Rossu’s eyes light up. “You’re the one the whole kingdom’s talking about! If you’re helping me, luck must be on my side!”
Then his gaze lands on the Master Sword, still drawn from its scabbard.
“Nice sword you have there, friend! I wish I had one of those!”
(Something is off about him, Link thinks. He’s too…)
“And your name?” Rossu turns his hand to Zelda.
Fuck. A stranger has never asked for Zelda’s name, before.
“Um,” Zelda blinks, shaking his hand. She stalls, “Yes, of course. My name is...”
Out of the corner of Link’s eye, the five Hylians in the stable seem to hold their breath.
Tetra, Fi quickly offers.
“Tetra,” Link repeats. What kind of name is Tetra?
“Yes,” Zelda smiles. “My name is Tetra.”
Fi responds, An ancient alias of the Zeldas. No one will recognize it.
Zelda and Rossu stand.
“Are you two heading towards Gerudo Town, by any chance?” The man asks. “Or do you know the way? This will be my first time going into the desert, and I’d rather not get lost.”
“I’ve actually hired Link to escort me there,” The easy lie falls from Zelda’s lips. “It’s my first time, too.”
“Oh, well, do you mind if I tag along? I’ll pay the same price.”
(He’s too nice, Link decides. He’s too friendly.)
“That’s fine,” Link answers. “It’s seven hundred rupees.”
Zelda coughs a laugh.
Rossu, not even fazed, smiles and says, “All right!”
The five Hylians in the stable-
Wait.
Link looks at where the five travelers were standing together, and is met with nothing.
(How is that possible? He looked away from them for a second.)
“Ready?” Zelda knocks her foot into his, grabbing his attention.
“…Yeah,” he nods, sheathing the Master Sword.
Their trek through the desert is relatively easy. Due to the lack of blood moons, the lizalfos and chuchus that Link had slain prior to freeing Zelda are no longer an issue. The only real obstacle is the heat.
(And Rossu’s mouth.)
“-never knew heat could be so unbearable!” he’s chattering away as the three of them walk. “Thank Hylia for the invention of the heatproof elixir-”
(But that’s just Link’s opinion.)
“About your supplies,” Zelda thankfully interrupts. “The leaves in the vials. Are you a scientist?”
“I am! You see, I’m writing a series of books on the environmental effects the Calamity has had on Hyrule. For my first volume, I’m researching the plants of Hyrule Field, more specifically trying to see if there’s been any change in their properties if they were close to the castle.”
“That’s fascinating. Do you have any results?”
“And why are you in the desert if you’re focused on Hyrule Field?” Link questions.
(At least the science nonsense is a little interesting.)
“As it turns out, the Gerudo have conducted a somewhat similar study when examining the difference between Hebra and Highland wildberries, to see if it affects the taste of their infamous Noble Pursuits? I wanted to ask if I could take a look at their results so I could reference them.”
“I would love to see your findings when the study is complete,” Zelda tells the researcher. “The volume will appear in stables, yes? Like the Rumor Mill?”
“Yes! That Traysi won’t be the only one getting exposure!”
“I’ll be in the desert for a few days, actually. Do you mind if I try and find you to ask about the results of the wildberry study?”
“That would be great, Princess!”
Everything stops.
“I mean…” Rossu falters, then sighs. He straightens his spine, taking his glasses off and tossing them to the ground. “Oh, never mind. This was never going to work, anyways.”
He shrugs his bag off his shoulders and reaches behind his back-
Link unsheathes the Master Sword and lunges, pushing Zelda away-
The blade of evil’s bane is caught in the curve of a Vicious Sickle. There are five puffs of white smoke, and the Hylian travelers from the stable have them surrounded.
Link’s heart drops when they take out the familiar white masks and fasten them over their faces, drawing weapons of their own, the reverse Sheikah eye dripping like blood.
(It was so damn obvious, but the Yiga have never been smart enough to ambush him like this.)
“You know,” Rossu says, breathless, his grin all sharp teeth, “It’s a shame. I really would have valued your input on my research.”
Zelda shouts, “Let me go!”
Link risks a look back over his shoulder.
She’s thrashing in the grip of two Blademasters, their Windcleavers on their belts as they shove her to her knees and hold her arms behind her back. Another Footsoldier holds their sickle to her throat. Two Archers have arrows aimed at her head, one on either side of her.
They fear her more than the Zora, Fi whispers, humming in his hand. There is a 98% chance of success in battle if Zelda displays her power.
She can’t, Link thinks in response. You know that.
There is a 12% chance of success in battle if you fight them alone.
“All six of you just for her?” Link manages. Why? I’ve taken on just as many Guardians at once and come out alive.
Rossu talks, but is muted by Fi answering, They are fueled by vengeance, and will not run if you hit them enough times. Are you prepared to kill six people, Master?
No, he resigns. Not at all.
(But if it meant Zelda staying alive, he’d-)
Pressure fills the air. Rossu’s shoulders hunch from the weight, and his sickle wavers against the Master Sword.
“What is that?” The Yiga demands, glancing around. “Why is-”
“Rossu?!” An Archer calls. “What do we do?!”
Link kicks Rossu’s feet out from under him and spins on his heel.
Zelda is gasping, hunched over as golden light crawls up her neck. The Footsoldier’s sickle digs into her skin, and one of the Blademasters grips her hair and yanks her head up to see her face.
“He’s here,” she says in a panic, chest heaving. “He’s here-”
She stares up at something, wide eyes searching the empty air. Her fingers curl as if she’s cradling an object, and her chin lifts as if guided by invisible hands.
“What is he saying?” Link pants. Daruk’s Protection forms around his body and Rossu’s sickle clangs against the orange shield.
(Ganondorf has never come to her in broad daylight.)
“Help me!” Rossu yells.
The Archers turn their arrows on Link and fire. They bounce off Daruk’s Protection, harmless, but Rossu’s next hit leaves a large crack.
“He’s telling me to fight it,” she talks fast, the words leaving her in a rush. “He’s telling me not to give in to power-”
Daruk’s Protection shatters.
The next round of arrows lodge in Link’s torso. He chokes on his next breath, staggering, and Rossu’s arm locks around him. The Yiga presses his sickle to Link’s neck.
(The Master Sword falls out of his hand.)
Blood trickles down Link’s throat. Zelda’s gaze lands on it, on the arrows stabbing into his chest, and she glows infinitely brighter, the golden light engulfing her face as her panic slowly morphs into something akin to rage.
Her hair lifts off her back. The sand shifts under their feet.
(The bomb is ticking, and ticking fast. Link knows it’s only a matter of minutes before she explodes.)
“Kill her,” Rossu orders. His voice trembles the slightest bit. “Quickly.”
One of the Blademasters swallows. They draw their Windcleaver, holding it over her head like an executioner. It shakes in the heavy, magic-filled air.
There is a 98% chance of success in battle if Zelda displays her power, Fi repeats, insistent. Master, they are terrified of her.
“For Master Kohga,” The unlucky Blademaster says.
“Zelda,” Link chokes. “Zelda, let go.”
(He hasn’t sustained enough injuries to trigger Mipha’s Grace.)
She meets his eyes, tears welling in hers.
“For Calamity Ganon,” The unlucky Blademaster raises the Windcleaver. “For the good of Hyrule.”
“Fi said it’s the only way,” he continues. “You’ll die if you don’t.”
(He’s supposed to protect her.)
“Do it!” Rossu shouts.
She looks to her right, at the empty space beside her in the sand.
“Tell me what you are,” she whispers. “Tell me how to save him.”
(He can’t guard her from this.)
“Kill her!”
Zelda’s irises turn yellow, the Windcleaver drops, and Link is blinded by an explosion of light as she screams.