If the Boot Fits

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Aryll did nothing all day. She wasn't ordered around by Ghirahim; instead, she was locked in her room. The room she used to share with Link. A fresh wave of tears fell down her face, never to be wiped away by his comforting hands. She couldn't understand how there was so much in her. She should be a desert by now, with all the crying she's done.

Looking up, Aryll found Link's lone boot sitting on his bed. It had lost its pair, too. She reached for it, tucking it against her chest and curling into a ball around it. Her eyes went dry, unable to leak any more tears. Sniffing, she wiped the snot from her face.

Suddenly, the lock clicked open. The door swung to the side. Aryll didn't bother to see who it was. She would stay curled up for as long as she could.

"Father wants you to prepare the carriage," Groose said gently. He waited.

Aryll sighed, taking her time to stand. She hugged herself as she trecked through the house with Groose trailing behind. He followed her out to the stables, opening the door for her. Uncomfortably, he stood by, watching her climb the small step-stool to reach the bridal. Even with the extra height, she wasn't tall enough to nock the gear off the peg. Rolling his eyes and sighing, Groose unhooked it, holding it out at arm's reach. Shocked by his strange actions, Aryll hesitently took the bridal from him, moving the step-stool next to the horse. After strapping the bridal on, she went to retrieve the second one. Groose was already giving it to her. Aryll didn't know whether to say thank you, or if this was some trick and she should be careful.

As if to answer her unspoken question, Groose left the barn as soon as Aryll took hold of the bridal. Wondering about his strange kindness, she pulled the horses to the front of the carriage, strapping them in. She pushed the double-doors open, then drove the carriage by herself. She wasn't good at turning it, and she missed Link's coaching. Aryll bit back the tears, swerving the carriage around to the front of the house. There her stepfamily stood, waiting. Another man was with them. Aryll guessed he was the coachman for tonight.

Slipping from the seat, Aryll quickly came to stand on the porch behind Ghirahim.

"Back to your room," he ordered, chin high. When he looked down at her, his pupils dilated. Something shifted in his features. Ghirahim brought a hand to his face, shaking his head to dispel whatever it was going on inside of him.

Eager to leave his presence, Aryll quickly headed into the house. Groose followed her, no doubt going to lock her away again. She slowed her pace on the winding stairs, prolonging the inevitable. When she did cross the threshold into the dusty closet, Groose shut the door behind her. The lock clicked. Aryll sank to the floor in a heap, snuggling the boot one more. Before Groose's heavy footsteps resounded down the hall, something clunked on the other side of the door. Curious, Aryll pressed her cheek to the dirty floor, peering through the aperture. There, on the other side, was the key Groose unknowingly dropped.

Aryll wiggled her fingers through the gap, barely brushing the key with her fingertips. She pushed them through harder, but the sharp edge of the door dug into her skin. Pulling back, Aryll stuck the bleeding knuckle in her mouth, putting a stopper to the little dribble. Not giving up, she tried with the other hand, but was given the same result. Finally, a good chance at escape sat right before her, yet she could not reach it. Disappointment and anger filled her.

Minutes dragged on and seemed to last for hours. Aryll was alone once more, left to her own despair. Suddenly, she was startled out of her sadness by a harsh knock on the window. It shuddered from the force of the pummeling fist. Confused, she moves to the window, pushing it open. Revali was hanging on the side of the house again. Down below, Mipha watched warily.

"I thought you would never answer," complained Revali.

"What are you doing?" Aryll asked.

"Shooting a bow. What does it look like I'm doing?" he snarled.