The Silence Between Them | ✔

5) Recover

⚔ In which Link's living arrangement is discussed ⚔

Zelda

The list of things Link is better at than me seems to grow longer by the day.

Swordsmanship
The Pianoforte
Cooking
Keeping his temper (if he even has one) in check
And having a solid grasp of his destiny are just a few.

The day after the night at the tavern is much like the day before. Link joins me, father, and the Sheikah to the lab again, listens to Robbie and Purah ramble about this thing or that, and reads books they've already got lining the shelves.

The one very different thing is the weather. It's raining, and the half-built laboratory doesn't provide much protection from the elements. Tarps are hung over the rafters to protect the books and machinery. More than once, someone asks if we could go back down the Village, but I insist it's unnecessary.

But despite the abundance of things to read and talk about, I keep thinking about Link.

He tries his best to seem unbothered, but sometimes I can see him wince or look miserable and in pain. And that splint clearly hinders him more than he lets on. I almost feel bad for running into him the other day, but I try to remind myself it's not my fault. He shouldn't have been listening to our conversation. But even still, I wonder what he's thinking. I wonder if he blames me for it. And worst of all, I wonder if this will cause him permanent damage in one way or another. I've seen it happen before when soldiers get what appears to be a typical injury, like a broken bone, but can never walk properly again.

He still isn't speaking. I can sometimes see him whisper things to his father, who translates for him. He sits silently and reads this passage Impa showed him, nods or shakes his head in answer to a question, or listens intently when the conversation turns to something like the Guardians or the Sheikah Slate. He's still refused to touch the slate itself, even though Purah and Robbie have offered a few times.

By lunch, the rain had let us just a bit. The table is cluttered with various machines' books, papers, and parts. But we all stop what we're doing when someone stops at the door.

"Hello?" a soft female voice echoes through the room.

Link smiles, grabbing his crutches and going as fast as he can to meet the woman at the door. He drops the crutches to hug her around the waist. She smiles down at him.

"Hello, dear. I brought lunch-" she said. Link pulled away, still smiling.

She scans the room, and her eyes stop at me, then father sitting in a chair at the head of the table.

"Your highnesses," she says softly and bows. She holds a basket and grips Link's hand in the other. "I brought enough for everyone, I hope, if it suits you."

Link picks up his crutches and leads his mother to the table. She follows, and we clear a space on the table for the basket.

"We'd be delighted if you join us, lady Medilia," I say, smiling. Link takes his seat and scoots over, making space for her.

Medilia blushes. "I would love to if it doesn't interrupt-"

"It's not interrupting!" father says heartily. "Please, make yourself comfortable."

Medilia sits next to Link, and they unpack the picnic basket. There is, indeed, enough for everyone. Sandwiches, garden salad, and cookies for dessert. I wonder if she made all this herself.

We dig in, eating and talking. I watch Link whisper things to his mother while pointing things out on the table, like this book or that drawing. She seems to enjoy herself, although I wonder if she knows what her son is talking about. She looks at me occasionally, smiling all the while.