The Hero, the Princess, and the Cursed King

Chapter 22: Prisoner

[Zelda]

Hyrule Castle was almost precisely as Zelda remembered it, with grand hallways, lush rugs, and intricate molding. She paused slightly as they passed a familiar entranceway. Down the hall and to the right, a spiral staircase would take her to her old room. A sudden wave of sorrow washed over her, and she wondered if her room still looked the same. Were her books still there? What about her first sketchbook? And what about her mother's crown? Zelda jerked to a stop as a memory from the night she'd escaped the palace came rushing back.

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"Zelda, it is crucial you remember this." Her mother gripped Zelda's shoulders. "Do you promise to remember?"

"Yes, mother."

"I would take it with me, but I can't guarantee its safety," Her mother muttered to herself, gazing into the distance.

"Mom?" Zelda's lip trembled. "I'm scared."

She grabbed Zelda's hand and squeezed it. "I'll keep you safe. By morning we'll be with Urbosa. Once things settle down, we'll come back, Zelda. Now let's go grab your cloak."

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"Keep moving." The soldier guarding Zelda pushed her forward, pulling her from the memory and causing her to almost trip. It wasn't easy to move with her hands and feet chained, but she guessed that was the point.

As they continued deeper into the castle, Zelda wondered what her mother had wanted her to remember. It had been something important, but due to the trauma of that night and the years that had passed, Zelda was having a hard time remembering.

Zelda's heart ached. She missed her mother terribly, and it seemed there were reminders of her everywhere she looked. They passed the window seat where she'd taught Zelda how to draw, the hallway they'd play tag in when no one was looking, and the courtyard where Zelda had watched her mother hone her magic.

Zelda glanced down at her left hand. She could no longer see the outline of the Triforce, but she could still feel its power. It was like a constant hum in her veins. The only issue was she couldn't use it. Sure, she'd practiced with her mother in preparation to receive its power, but most of what she'd learned required complicated movements. Movements she couldn't do chained up.

The guard grabbed her elbow and forced her down steep stairs. Zelda knew exactly where they were taking her, she'd known all along, but that still didn't make the darkness of the dungeon and its musty stench any less terrifying. She'd always hated coming down here and had only come here when her father had made her.

"In here." The guard unlocked a cell and roughly shoved her in.

Zelda tripped over her feet and landed hard on her knees. She stayed on the cold stone floor until she heard the click of the lock and then the guard's retreating footsteps. Just to be sure she was alone, she peeked through the bars of her prison cell. Zelda could barely make out the cell block with the soft flickering of a few torches. All the other cells across from her were empty. Either that or their inhabitants were hiding in the shadows.

Sighing, she examined her cell. It was bigger than what she'd expected and had a small wooden cot in the corner. At the top of the far wall, a tiny window let in a sliver of the sun's setting light.

Zelda crossed to it and, standing on her tip-toes, tried to peer out of it, but her chains and height made it impossible. So she stood and stared up at it. As the sunlight grew fainter and fainter, Zelda's breathing grew rapid. She turned away from the window and leaned against the wall. Sure, she was trapped and would almost certainly die, but. . . but. . .