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Trips where she wasn’t allowed to accompany the princess into the sanctums were among Impa’s least favorite. For practical reasons such as being there to assist in any way needed, be it helping her drag the prayer robes out of the waters, or just being there for her when things didn’t go right. Plus, with her present, she noticed that the princess tended to receive less harsh criticism in her presence, and if she could provide a small buffer for her, she was content to do so.
The more selfish side of herself knew she wanted to be the first person to witness her powers awakening. So much of their time was solely dedicated to the pursuit, it was easy to get lost in the fantasy of being the first one to bear witness, and to sweep her up in a crushing hug, telling her how proud of her she was and that she knew she could do it, and–
An easy fantasy to get lost in.
Atop the Great Plateau, Impa busied herself with a meditation while waiting for word on the Princess, who had been locked away in the main chapel since dawn. She hadn’t been permitted to join her that time, leaving it just the princess and the high priest.
She hoped they were at least feeding her.
Otherwise, there was a risk of her passing out, and it was something Impa had witnessed on more than one occasion.
Just thinking about the times the princess had collapsed in the springs was enough to jolt her out of her meditation.
Feeling out into the world around her, she could still feel Zelda’s energy in the back of the sanctum.
Energy moved around the princess heavily. The priest’s energy. He was likely talking to her, but she sat stock still.
Impa sighed.
It was getting close to sunset, the plateau’s town beginning to wind down for the night. Stalls were being cleared and closed, people shuffling their way back home. In the past, there would have been a small night-life about the plateau, but as the years went on, the monsters had begun to increase in numbers.
It wasn’t the monsters themselves that had Impa worried.
It was the monsters that were born out of malice rather than flesh.
Monsters that, when killed, would fall apart into a sticky pile of malice that would slowly evaporate into nothing, only to be reborn under a Blood Moon.
They didn’t happen often. It used to be something that only happened once a year, but over the last few, they started occurring twice a year, and were now up to once a season.
All sure signs that the calamity was close to awakening, and with that in mind, Impa and Zelda had mutually agreed they needed to double down on their efforts to understand her powers.
Less and less of their trips had any time built in for exploring or just...having fun, which had been having a clear effect on the princess. Impa couldn't count how many times she had broken down over her failure to unlock her powers, and had started becoming short with people. Her fuse far smaller. Her temper more easily aggravated.
Her anger was rarely ever directed at Impa, but in the handful of times it had, the princess would immediately realize what she had said or done, and would start breaking down for an entirely new reason.
No matter how much Impa tried to assure her that she never held any of it against her, she was usually inconsolable for a few hours.
On the periphery of her mind, she felt Zelda’s energy beginning to move away from the sanctum.
Standing up from her ledge, Impa dusted herself off, stretching out her limbs from sitting in one spot for so long.
She turned in time with the doors to the chapel opening, she was met with a teary-eyed princess, and a priest who looked absolutely beside himself with disgust.
Impa had to fight down the urge to slam him up against the wooden doors, kodachi at his neck, demanding to know what he had said or done to upset her. She was almost mad at herself for how good she was getting at keeping a straight face. She wanted to react- to show Zelda that she was always in her corner no matter what any good-for-nothing priest ever had to say.
“Think about what I’ve said,” the priest said through gritted teeth.
Zelda didn’t turn back to him, only nodding, a tremble of her lips. She was fighting hard to keep it together.
The priest merely nodded at Impa as she joined the princess’s side, ready to walk her back to the royal chateau. Dutifully, one step behind her.
Climbing the steps to the princess’s room for the night, Impa hesitated a step down. “Princess,” she began, but was quickly cut off.
“Please, come in,” Zelda said, voice wavering.
Impa nodded, following after her.
Of all the royal accommodations across the land, the Great Plateau offered one of the largest and most grand spaces. Bedding made from the best materials across Hyrule. Large stained glass windows that matched the grandeur of the Temple of Time itself. A bathroom with a tub that almost rivaled the princess’s own back at the castle.
For all those reasons, the princess seemed to hate it the most. It reminded her too much of home. Too much of what she felt like she was failing.
Doors closed behind them, barely even a few steps into the room, and Zelda found herself becoming unglued. Far enough away from the priest and the temple as a whole, she couldn’t hold it in any longer.
Before she even had a chance to crumble in on herself, Impa was there, catching her before she fell, guiding her down to the ground, her prayer robes billowing around them.
She said nothing, only holding her closely. It was an anxiety she had swallowed years ago. Sure, it was still there in the back of her mind, the knowledge that she wasn’t supposed to have this much contact with the princess, but it had been made clear to her many times that the closeness was in fact what the princess wanted.
Impa wasn’t one to refuse her princess easily.
She sat with her as she cried it out, a large wet spot on the shoulder of her haori, a soothing hand up and down her back. While glad she had the skill, she almost wished she didn’t have any experience with comforting her after emotional days.
Really, in truth, she just wished she had answers for the princess. She was an advisor, for Hylia’s sake.
She wished she had a way of knowing what the past princesses and queens went through to unlock their sealing powers. Surely there had to be journals somewhere from past royalty…
The royal library only had second-hand accounts of what happened with their sealing powers, but none of it was of any use to them. The sealing powers hadn’t been needed in 10,000 years. Nobody in memory had needed the powers so urgently.
And wherever the Late Queen’s journal was, it was likely the King held onto it fiercely.
As confident as Impa was about sneaking around the castle, sneaking into the king’s chambers was a strict no. The one no she was sure to keep.
Zelda pulled away from her for a second to readjust herself, the awkward angle of the floor finally catching up to her.
“What happened?” Impa carefully asked.
She laughed bitterly, wiping the dampness from her face. “He wants me to think ‘long and hard about my clear lack of devotion to the goddess’,” she said in a huff.
It was enough to make Impa’s blood boil. As someone who had bore witness to nearly every minute of her prayer for the past six years, she of anyone would know just how devoted to the goddess the princess was. The insinuation that she wasn’t devoted was as laughable as it was offensive.
She had half the mind to report the priest to the bishop back at the castle...if it would even do any good. They had both heard the way the princess was being referred to as. A failure. The heir to nothing.
They had both, unfortunately, heard it all at that point.
Impa refused to give up on her, though. She herself would have to be corrupted by malice itself before she ever could do such a thing.
“He clearly doesn’t know what he’s talking about,” Impa said, finally.
Zelda shook her head, pulling her hair back over her shoulders. “Maybe he is right. Maybe I do lack devotion.”
“Did they feed you at all today?” Impa asked, a flare of anger rising up in her as she shook her head.
“No- I...I honestly believe this trip was just orchestrated by my father merely to punish me. If…” She wasn’t even sure if she should even say it. It was only speculation on her part. It wasn’t something that had been directly said to her.
Maybe she just wanted someone to be angry on her behalf...and Impa was at least good for that. [Though, Zelda would always argue she was good for many, many other things.]
“I wonder if you hadn’t been waiting for me, if he would have locked me in there all night, starving me until I either figured out my powers or…” she couldn't bring herself to finish. Of all the priests, Father Lobo was her least favorite. He had always been far too harsh- never seeming to have a nice word for anyone.
Impa carefully began to stand, mindful of the dress around her, offering her hands out to Zelda. “Being hungry is not helping how you feel. Let me have the kitchen bring you dinner.”
Zelda hummed, supposing there was probably a hunger pain somewhere in the mix of her general despair. “I suspect you haven’t eaten as well,” she said, keeping a hold of her hand.
She shook her head. “Not since this morning,” she admitted.
“If it wouldn't be trouble, then I request you to take dinner with me,” she said, looking off to the side.
Impa nodded. “I would be happy to.”
Zelda watched her slip away, hand hanging in the air as she left. Part of her loved that Impa was willing to give her attention and affection in her moments of weakness, but part of her hated that it took such drastic things to get that from her. She wished it was purely something she gave freely, because sometimes it purely felt like duty.
She considered Impa a friend, but did Impa consider her a friend?
Six years of asking herself that question, and she felt no closer to the answer. Every time she tried to ensure their relationship wasn’t one-sided, Impa would start to give in, and just as quickly shut her back out.
Forcing herself into action, she set about removing the prayer gown, getting herself into something more comfortable, so she could ask Impa to escort her on a walk after dinner.
While she hated the Plateau for a number of reasons, she at least liked that it was one of the last places they were able to go about just the two of them, no escort needed. The natural defenses of the plateau kept most of the monsters at bay, and the few flesh monsters that still roamed the plateau seemed content to leave people alone.
By the time Impa returned, an attendant in tow with dinner, the hunger in the pit of her stomach had finally begun to register, outweighing all her frustration from the day.
As they always did, the attendant set up their meals apart from one another. Zelda at the main table by the grand window, and Impa at the small table closer to the door.
It was, in Zelda’s opinion, one of the dumber customs. It never made sense to her, even prior to having Impa as her advisor. If she had requested taking dinner with her advisor so they may advise her over dinner, shouldn't they sit at the same table?
At least nobody ever made a fuss about finding their plates together afterwards.
Lost in thought, her attention drawn out the window while their meal had been set up, Zelda nearly jumped when she heard Impa sit across from her. “Honestly, you would think-” She hesitated as she watched Zelda cover her grin with her hands.
She couldn't resist teasing her. “Quite bold of you to assume you can join me at my table without me saying anything,” she teased.
Impa felt her face get warm. “Your Highness, forgive me-”
It was something Zelda had picked up a long time ago. She had yet to get Impa to use her name without a title, but she tended to default to Princess when it was just the two of them. Being referred to as ‘Your Highness’ was something she only said when around others, or when she seemed to think she was in trouble.
Zelda’s shoulders fell as she leaned back in her chair. “I was teasing you, Impa.” She gestured to the empty chair. “Of course I want you to sit with me. I always do,” she admitted. Truth be told, she enjoyed it in general having her around. It didn’t matter if all they did was sit in comfortable silence while Impa meditated and she sat in prayer, or they mutually read a book in the secrecy of the library.
Impa’s mere presence was enough to make everything better, and as of late, she had really begun to notice the times when she wasn’t present. It wasn’t all that often. They spent more time together than they did with just about anyone else, making the times they were apart all the more noticeable.
Zelda mused that maybe she was a little too dependent on Impa…
Stepping out into the evening air, well after their shared dinner, Zelda felt herself shudder from the chill that had set in. Early spring on the Plateau was always colder than lower down in Central Hyrule, but not enough to warrant her heavier cold-weather coat.
“Any ideas where you would like to go?” Impa asked, situating her kodachi on her hip.
Zelda hummed. “Earlier, you made it sound as though you had some place in mind,” she said.
She was sure she would get hell from Purah for it later, but she was going to go the route of “forgiveness rather than permission”. To put it mildly, Zelda had a bad day, and she was sure Purah would be more upset with her if she didn’t offer it up. “I thought I could maybe show you the place Purah and Robbie found,” she mentioned casually, taking a leading step towards the path that would take them further up the plateau.
That instantly had her attention. “Oh?” she said, sticking close to her side.
“It’s on the hilltop, but before the magic cold zone. It’s supposed to be some sort of facility, but neither of them could figure out how to get into it. They were waiting to ask the two of us to go with them so we could test out if my powers could get in there,” she explained.
They stuck close to the shadows, out of sight from any passing guards or pedestrians. Though out of practice, it wasn’t a hard muscle for either of them to remember how to use. The two of them missed sneaking around together more than they would ever be willing to admit aloud.
Nightfall had set in by the time they reached the overlook, the last flecks of orange streaking across the western skies. Out in the plateau below them, lanterns flickered like sunset fireflies, and the same out across Hyrule Field, patches of warmth glowing in the darkness of the field.
Above them, the moon had come out, full, illuminating the world around them.
“It’s down here,” Impa said, bringing her to the mouth of the cave.
Zelda had to fight the urge to reach for her arm, the sight of the dark pit stirring her stomach. “Perhaps we should have brought a lantern,” she said.
“Robbie said once you reach a certain point in the cavern it lights up on its own.”
That intrigued her. Automatic lighting– a marvel to be sure. Especially considering the likely age of the structure.
Impa put her hand on the cavern’s mouth, feeling out into it. There was a significant drop just beyond the entrance, one she didn’t want to risk Zelda hurting herself on. On instinct, she slipped a hand across her waist, pulling her closer. “Let me get us past the first drop,” she said.
Zelda nodded, closing her eyes and bracing herself for the feeling of teleporting. It wasn’t her favorite –always leaving her slightly off kilter for a few seconds. Never enough to be full-blown vertigo, but enough to where she needed a few seconds before being ready to move.
The depths of the cavern was far more humid than the outside air. Water pooled on the ground from a recent rainstorm, and the air was permeated with a dampness.
Though, Zelda could hardly register any of it. Instead, with her face buried in Impa’s shoulder, all she could smell was her lavender hair oil. Far more pleasant than the musty cave smell.
Just as she started to lift her head off her shoulder, the cavern around them began to light up, just as she had promised it would. A dim blue lighting, almost bidding them further back into the cave.
She stepped out of Impa’s grip, forcing herself to concentrate on the structure, rather than the way her hand fell off her hip. “What is this place?” she asked, studying the walls around them. She could just barely make out the faded patterns of ancient sheikah texts.
“Purah and Robbie both said they weren’t sure. The only legible texts read ‘Shrine of’. The rest is illegible,” she said, keeping close to her. While she doubted much would be in the cave with it being exhumed so recently, it made her feel far better to be close to the princess.
Towards the back of the cave, they came upon a wall. The text engraved into its paneling had long faded- barely more than a few syllables at a time legible.
Impa approached the wall, hand on it to feel into the room beyond. The wall itself was thick. It would take a lot of her power to get past such a structure. “There’s definitely a room back there, but…” Beyond that, she couldn't tell what else might be back there. For all she knew, they were breaking into some sacred shrine, said to be a trail for the Hero of Time.
“Do you think you could get the both of us back there?” Zelda asked, joining her side.
She hummed, a worried sound. “I’m...hesitant to do that with you, Princess. I can’t risk hurting you,” she said.
Zelda looked up at her, confused. “You teleported with me only a moment ago?” she said.
Impa grimaced, offering a shake of her head. “I only teleport with you when we have a perfectly clear path. This is...more involved,” she explained. A clear path was easy. Teleporting beyond something solid…? The risks involved with that were already high on her own -involving another person? Involving Zelda? The risk was far too much.
Whether it was sheer stubbornness, a desire to discover what lay just beyond the seal, or just a desire to be close, Zelda stepped closer, a silent invitation to grab onto her. “I have full confidence in you, Impa,” she said.
Impa almost hated herself for simultaneously believing in her own conviction, but continuing to doubt herself anyway.
With hesitance, she snaked her arm back around Zelda’s waist, her hand noticeably shaky. “Princess, I really-”
Zelda was quick to cut her off, unwilling to listen to even a second of her self-doubt. “Do you still have faith I will unlock my sealing powers?” she asked. After all, if anyone in the room was to be doubted, it was her. She had nothing more than her royal lineage as proof of even the possibility of her having powers. She had witnessed much of Impa’s own greatness.
Caught off guard by the question, she reaffirmed her grip on her waist. “There is not a doubt in my mind, Princess,” she said.
“Even with how much everyone around me doubts I will?” she continued, frustrating Impa further.
“They don’t understand your devotion like I do,” she said, perhaps too quickly. In the back of her mind, she worried how it might come across. That it was too emotional. Too strong. Too much for someone who was merely an advisor.
Zelda smiled at her, and Impa found herself thankful for the dim lighting, doubly so as she felt her reach into the back of her haori to get a firm grip on her. “Then understand that my confidence in you to get us in there safely is just as strong as your confidence in me.” The brazenness of her actions wasn’t lost on either of them, as she more shyly added, “And if nothing else, at least my confidence in you is founded on tangible evidence, rather than blind faith.”
Impa wanted to fight back, to say it wasn’t purely blind faith, to be able to produce evidence of some kind that it was much more than that...but at best, it was a lie. Not a malicious one, but a lie nonetheless. It’s all her faith in the princess boiled down to: unwavering faith.
She refused to see it as a bad thing, at the very least. Her faith in the princess didn’t feel like a desperate emotion. It just was.
Pulling Zelda in flush against herself, she took a deep, steadying breath. “Let’s hope I don’t betray that confidence,” she said, holding her tight. Tighter than she normally would have.
Feeling out into the room, building up the necessary energy- she felt herself shaking like she was staring down a hinox or a lynel. This needed to be perfect. Zero room for error. She promised to protect Zelda with her life, and the threats included herself.
Stifling her grunt, they teleported.
A long half a second later, landing on the other side of the wall.
Giddy with excitement that she had even managed such a feat, she quickly lost her footing. With Zelda holding onto her for support, she dragged her down as well, the two tumbling to the ground. Impa tried her best to ensure she braced the fall for her princess, but she didn’t have enough time to make it nearly as graceful as she would have hoped for.
Zelda fell atop her with a grunt, quicking sensing that their faces were far too close.
She scrambled to get up, but just as quickly remained in her spot, awkwardly hovering over Impa, too worried about what might be in the room with them.
Sensing her worry, Impa reached out to put a hand on her waist, easing herself up. It didn’t feel like anything was with them.
“I’m sorry,” Impa began, quickly overshadowed by Zelda’s own apology.
The darkness of the room was suddenly pierced by a blue light, snagging their mutual attention. Around them, the rest of the room began to light up, awash in a dull blue lighting, similar to the previous room.
Finally able to see around them, Zelda was the first to get up, ensuring Impa’s hand never left her in some way. The room they were in wasn’t large by any means. A small facility of sorts, with a...something in the middle of it. A table of some sort with a large cone structure pointed down at it. Nearest to them, a small pedestal with a rectangle object sticking out of it.
As she stepped towards it, she felt Impa pull her back by her hand. “Careful, Princess,” she said.
She merely tugged her along, lacing their fingers together without thinking, more concerned for the security it gave her.
Approaching the pedestal, Zedla hesitantly reached out for the device, glazing back at Impa. She only nodded for her to continue.
Grabbing it in one hand, it came off the port with a soft click, lighting up in her hand. She had to fight the reflex to drop it.
The face of the device flashed blue, went black, and just before she could try to turn it over to see if she had done something wrong, it began to light back up. On its very center, it displayed a Sheikah Eye decal for a moment before ultimately fading out once more.
Reluctantly, Zelda took her other hand back, prodding at the device to no avail. The room around them remained lit, but the device in her hands refused to light up once more.
Impa hummed at her side, looking back around them.
There didn’t seem to be any other entrances, and still no clear way of getting back out. She would likely have to get them back out, which meant expending more of her powers.
In hindsight, she realized she could have thought the evening through better.
“This is just an idea,” Zelda began, grabbing Impa’s attention. “But I wonder if this…” She wasn’t even sure what to call it. “Device, I suppose, could open this facility.”
Impa shrugged, figuring it was as good of a theory as any. She almost asked the question of how it even got locked in the facility in the first place, but just as realized she already knew her answer. Sheikah-teleporting.
“I probably should have waited for Purah and Robbie to be with us to bring you here,” Impa said.
At that, Zelda laughed lightly. “Perhaps I’m being too candid given the situation, but aren’t you a little excited to get to tell Purah we discovered something on our own?” she asked.
Impa blinked hard in response, crossing her arms, wanting to deny the accusation– but she was right. She loved getting any sort of edge over her sister, if only to annoy her.
Plus, it would hopefully look good for the princess, should the device be of any use, and given it was clearly a Sheikah relic, that was practically a given.
When she took too long to answer, Zelda laughed, turning the device in her hands over again, looking intently on the engravings on the back.
“I’m not going to incriminate myself,” Impa finally answered.
It got another laugh from the princess, who then reached down to grab her hand once more and proceeded to drag her around the room, investigating every nook and cranny they could of the small space. Had she known they were going to get into such a place, she would have brought some material with her to take notes, but for now, she would have to rely on their collective memory.
At the very least, Zelda mused, Impa would probably be willing to stay late with her back in her room so they could flesh out her notes. If she was lucky, she might even get Impa to stay with her overnight. Given she would have to use an extensive amount of energy to get them back out of the shrine, she would probably actually sleep for the night.
But if nothing else, it was at least a fanciful, perhaps selfish, wish…