Tears of a Broken Kingdom

Chapter Twenty-seven ~ A Fire Inside

Nothing had changed since the day before, although people seemed in better spirits. The water had given the people hope, hope that life wasn't all gone from Hyrule yet. There was still something to cling too.

Zelda hoped it would last. What she had done yesterday still surprised her, although she supposed she shouldn't be.

The last edges of immediate exhaustion had faded, but the last few days had been taxing in a multitude of ways, even more so than energy.

So much had changed in such little time, it was still hard to wrap her head around everything. Zelda's mind was filled to the brim with thoughts and all she wanted was to let them go. Not just for her wellbeing and sanity, but for the others too.

It was beyond just her now, and she was ready to be the strong one. It was long overdue anyhow.

No one had yet to mention the bruise, which had almost faded. Zelda was still nervous Ashton would ask though. And then what? What would she tell him? That gnawed at her, despite its smallness in comparison to her other worries. It hurt to even think about, still hurt, that is. She didn't know how to break it to him without hurting him. She didn't know how to explain.

Maybe it would fade off with the rest of the chaos that had occurred. But that seemed to be a naïve thought, he was her child, after all.

>*<

The question came the day after, still in the false calm that pervaded the survivors, in the small camp they'd set up near the entrance to Kakariko the day before.

"I know you're injured Mom. How?"

Zelda winced internally, she'd been waiting for it, but still... she wasn't ready.

It had been another long day, and she was cold and exhausted. Her hands shook on their own, even without the cold. It was almost like a spasm, her fingers and palms tense as statues from a day of turning blood to water. Even after only two days, it had been taxing enough.

Of all times he had to ask now?

Zelda sighed and sadly looked at her son, who seemed to be set on getting an answer, a determined glint in his eyes, just like his eyes. Blue and deep, an ever-changing ocean, but with an ever-burning fire and determination to match.

"It's... it's painful sweetheart," why were there tears in her eyes?

"I-i can handle it..."

"I can handle it like Dad." That was what he'd intended to say, she could tell.

Zelda sighed again, her nerves sent her into a state of restlessness, the exhaustion momentarily forgotten. She'd tell him quick, it was better to take out the arrow quick, quicken the pain.

Zelda related the night to him, keeping out the gritty details. Ashton was still a child, ten almost eleven, even though now she had almost forgotten he was so young, life had forced him to be mature beyond his years.

The story was short, Zelda had left out even the details of the strangler. She would tell him one day, when he was older and stronger. He had loved his Dad so much, she didn't want to risk tainting her son's memories of Link. It hadn't even been him, not really, and it didn't matter.

His eyes were wide with concern and hurt, mouth open but didn't speak.

Zelda wondered if this had been the right decision to tell him while she went about built back up the pile of meager sticks they'd found and started it, the fire crackled to life.

It was late at night, most of the others were asleep, wrapped up in found and salvaged blankets and furs, under meager shelters that had been built from salvaged materials. Some parts of Kakariko had fared better than others, those buildings picked apart for supplies.

Zelda held her hands near the fire, trying to relax the muscles, focus her mind on something else. She hasn't had much time to think in the last few days, busy helping organize people and supplies and scouts groups on top of giving everyone water. Maybe being busy was for the best, then she wouldn't have time to think.

No one had yet suggested they move camps, and Zelda sensed no one wanted to, for right now. They were waiting. Waiting to see what happened. So far nothing had been seen from their small camp, this corner of Hyrule had finished its destruction it seemed, although she still wanted to send a scout group up to Zora's Domain. And then after that... she didn't know. She was trying to keep herself busy on the present, not worry for the future, but that wasn't far away. They couldn't live like this forever, there had to be somewhere else.

With time to think, as Ashton silently went to sleep, she felt drowned in all the worries she'd ignored all day.

Her mind really was an ocean, deep and upset, crashing and surging, in unrest.

Maybe it was best to go to sleep...

But no. She'd sort it out.

Start with what she knew:
She was an orphan. Her husband was dead. Others were dead too. A lot of people were dead. And it was her fault. All her fault.

Zelda instantly regretted her decision, but she decided to just let it consume her. Despite the fire's warmth she felt cold and lost. Like the only person left in the world, even if it wasn't true. Not at all. But in the quiet and dark night, with everyone else lost in slumber, escaped from reality for a few hours, yes. She felt utterly alone.

Tomorrow she'd organize a scout group, they could check out Zora's Domain, maybe to the forest too. Zelda wanted to know what was going on, and that seemed to be the best option of obtaining the information she desired.

Tomorrow was a new day. Always was, in fact.

Zelda crept over to her son, who was wrapped up in a salvaged blanket.

She adjusted the blanket and brushed out his hair with her hands, feeling herself grow drowsy.

After awhile she let herself sleep too, long escaping along with everyone else from the nightmare that was their life.