Ferris Wheel

(Some people who use Wattpad on their phones can't see the chapter image, so here it is again) 😊
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Zelda's POV

Today marks the official end of the fall semester. All finals have been taken, and most grades have been submitted to Canvas. Two of my professors, English and Archeology, are still in the process of grading my final essays, but other than that, my grades look excellent.

A 98 in International Relations, a 95 in Bioethics, a not-so-pretty 93 in Comparative Politics, and two very satisfying 100s in Molecular Biology and Music Composition.

Father would be proud. At least that is what everyone keeps telling me. Though I knew him well enough to understand that he wouldn't verbally express that kind of pride, the part of me that didn't know him well has invested a great amount of faith into the possibility that, perhaps, he would indeed be proud, even if he would not go out of his way to say it.

To be frank, I'm not sure how I managed to keep up my grades with everything going on. I've been so very busy. Some professors must have kept my recent loss in mind when grading my exams and essays. I can't otherwise explain the perfect score I received for my research paper on Epigenetic Modifications. I'm grateful, of course, but I hope they won't keep grading me differently next semester. I need to know I've earned it.

In the dark reflection of the window, I see myself smiling vaguely. This used to be Father's view. I wonder if he ever watched the last wave of students exit the buildings, with those distinct end-of-the-year expressions of relief and exhaustion carved deep into their faces.

A shy knock on the door of my office makes me turn away from the window. "Yes?" I say, straightening my posture.

The door opens slowly. The secretary peeks her head inside the office with a soft smile. "Happy holidays," she says. I spot a cup of hot cocoa in one hand and a brown coat in the other.

"You are heading out?" I ask.

"It's 5 pm."

"Surely it can't be," I gasp. "Already?"

She nods as I check the time on my watch. Caringly, she asks, "Will you stay for much longer?"

I tap the keyboard on my laptop to bring it back from rest mode, and sigh in relief when I see that I have no new emails.

"I suppose I will head home soon as well," I tell her.

A reassuring smile meets me from the other end of the room. "I'm glad," she says. "You deserve to get some rest. It's been a hectic week. This time of year is always very busy at the office."

Not soon after she has left, my phone begins to buzz on the desk. Without checking who's calling, I answer the call with a formal, "Hello, this is Hyrule."

Impa cackles on the other end of the line. "Hello Hyrule," she snorts, "may I speak with Zelda?"

"One moment please," I say and pretend to hand the phone over. "Hey, what's up?"

"There she is," Impa laughs loudly. "Just calling to see if you're ready."

"For...?"

"The best party of your life!"

"No."

She sings, "It's the end of the semester!" as if it were intriguing news.

"Not for me. I am the temporary president of the institution, 'winter break' has no effect on my work load."

"It's Friday night," she sings in the same tone.

"Impa, please."

"I'm your best friend," she continues to sing the words, but it becomes increasingly unsettling and emotionally distressing the longer she goes on, "who dearly misses you and will literally throw herself off a bridge if you turn her down one more time."

I let out a sigh, which she picks up on.

"Pleaseeeee..." she stretches the words until I interrupt her with, "Stop." She then takes a deep breath and ignores my request with a louder, longer, more distressing, "PLEASEEEEEEE..."

"Okay fine." I give in. I could use a break anyway, if I'm honest, I just didn't have it in me to put my work on pause.

"There's a frat party tonight," she informs me.

"May I remind you once more that I am currently the president of the school? I cannot attend a party where underaged students of mine are getting intoxicated."

Suddenly, the line goes dead. The infamous beep-tone follows. Did she seriously just hang up on me?

While I'm still processing what just happened, a silhouette appears in the doorframe, and while I at first assume it's the secretary again, I am not surprised when it is Impa who is standing in my office.

"Princess!"

I want to roll my eyes at her, but a smile has already settled on my face. "Hello Impa."

She walks over, around my father's large desk, and gives me a long hug. "I'm so proud of you for agreeing to take a break! It's been way too long since we partied last."

"I understand that you are excited, but parties are just not appropriate for me at the moment." 

She groans in response, but I know a compromise that might just bring back her smile.

"How about we go to the pier instead?" I suggest, and as predicted, her expression morphes into a great display of perfect teeth.

"Deal! Let's go right now!"

Unhurried, I pack up my things and follow her out of the office. Everyone else has already left, and like a ghost town, the hallways are dark. Lights flicker on as we trigger the sensors on our way to the exit.

The campus is a sight to behold. The usually stoic, ivy-covered buildings are adorned with festive decorations, transforming the academic atmosphere into something almost magical. Garlands of evergreen wrap around the lampposts, their piney scent traveling through the crisp winter air. Twinkling lights hang from the palm trees, each casting a warm, golden glow over the paths that crisscross the quad.

In the center of it all stands a massive Christmas tree. Its branches are heavy with ornaments, ribbons, and lights that illuminate the arriving evening. The tree is a tradition, always grander each year, and though we don't get snow here, it's impossible not to feel a little festive just walking past it.

The temperatures have dropped too, accompanying the festive mood with that perfect December chill that bites just enough to remind you it's winter without making you regret leaving the house.

On our way to the pier, Impa has her stereo turned up to a volume that's likely illegal, belting out lyrics to some pop song that I can identify even though she is driving in her own car, 30 feet ahead of me. She's off-key, but so confident about it that it somehow sounds right.

Only thirty minutes later, the pier slowly moves into the frame of my windshield, and at the sight of the ferris wheel and colorful waves of LED lighting, I feel a rush of excitement. This place hasn't changed a bit. It's almost like a living memory, the kind that stubbornly refuses to fade no matter how much time has passed.

Having found nearby parking, Impa and I walk along the pier, her arm tightly wrapped around mine. The carousel, with its brightly painted horses and gentle music, the ring toss booths with their neon prizes, and the smell of caramel popcorn mixed with the salty ocean air—it's exactly what I needed.

There's something comforting about seeing tourists milling around too, eyes wide with that wonder only newcomers seem to carry.

We pass by familiar shops. Some are selling trinkets that I swear haven't changed in years. Impa snorts at a T-shirt that reads, "I'm on a seafood diet. I see food and I eat it." but keeps walking, eyes already set on her true destination: the arcade.

Stepping inside, warmth and noise enveloping us. She drags me to the claw machine. It's almost comical how determined she is. You'd think she's on a mission to save the world instead of just trying to win a plushie she's been obsessing over for years now. She has likely spent more on this claw machine than on tuition.

With the same intense focus she used to pass her law exams, she lines up the claw, her eyes narrowed in concentration. I watch, amused, as she maneuvers the joystick, biting her lip in that way she does when she's truly invested. The claw descends... grabs the toy... pulls it up... and—

"Come on!" Impa groans, immediately digging in her pocket for more quarters. After $12 dollars, eight cuss words, 1 prayer, and at least four new dents to the bottom medal of the machine, she throws her hands up in exasperation. "This thing is rigged!"

"Yes," I pat her shoulder. "But you already knew that."

I can't help but laugh as she scowls at the machine like it's mocking her intelligence. But her anger doesn't last long. She knows the claw will always fail her, but that doesn't stop her from trying every time we're here. Maybe it's not about the plushie. It's a ritual at this point, a tradition that neither of us is ready to give up.

With the arcade conquered (or rather, with Impa's dignity mostly intact), we make our way outside again, the cold slapping us across the face after the stuffy warmth of the arcade. We wander for a bit and pass the crowded rides and bustling food stalls until we arrive at the ferris wheel.

Carriages are lit up in different colors: red, white, and green. Christmas carols play through the speakers. Having bought our tickets, we climb into a red carriage and make our way up the giant wheel. When Hyrule's campus comes into view—glowing proudly at the top of the dark cliffs—my heart flutters with nostalgia. I thought seeing the campus in the distance would make me feel anxious, but I immediately feel the peace that comes with being slightly above it all.

Impa leans back, offering me some of her cotton candy. "I missed this," she murmurs.

I nod, unable to put into words how much I agree. There's something about the steady climb of the ferris wheel, the way it lifts us out of the noise and into a quiet all our own, that's deeply comforting.

"How did the testimonies go?" I ask, feeling nervous but also too curious not to ask.

Impa chews on her bottom lip, thinking. It worries me how quickly her smile has vanished. It's not helping that the red light of the carriage reflects on her face, setting a serious and perhaps violent atmosphere. I try to focus on the cheerful music and laughter to calm my racing heart.

"Not super great," she admits. "To be honest, I feel like I should've done a better job at showing the judge how awful Karusa is. It's easy when you're watching other people testify, but when you're in the stand yourself... The pressure weighs a thousand tons and a single word can contradict everything else you've said prior. It's kinda crazy."

"That sounds incredibly stressful," I say.

"Yeah, and the worst part is that no matter what I said about that jerk, he never really did anything to me directly, so I could only speak about other people's experiences with him, which his lawyer objected to. Anything I said ended up just being 'speculation' in their eyes..." Her dim-lit face turns my way, and suddenly the red shading is no longer serious and violent—it's warm and full of passion. "I'm sorry, Zelda. I should've done better."

"No, it's okay," I shake my head, brows furrowed. "You did what you could. I'm sure it'll turn out fine."

"I don't know, Princess. I hate to say this, but I don't think we should get our hopes up. Karusa's lawyer is kind of a beast. Without real evidence of what Karusa has done, there's really nothing incriminating about him. At least in the eyes of the judge, y'know?"

I can't help but feel guilty. If I were brave enough to testify, maybe things would be different.

"Do you think I should come forward?" I ask her. "About the assault..."

She pauses for a second, not breaking eye contact. "I mean... If you want that, you know we'd support you."
I nod, thinking it over.

"But," she adds, "whatever you decide, we got your back either way. Nobody blames you if it's too much to talk about it publicly."

"Impa, be honest with me for a moment..." I rub my arms, feeling slightly tense. With a deep breath, I murmur quietly, "Do you think all of this is my fault?"

"None of this is on you," she says, no hesitation.

"But... It all started with me and Karusa."

"Actually, it started with Link and Karusa," she corrects, trying her best to keep up the festive mood with a casual smile. "They've had history long before you came into the picture. You were just at the wrong place at the wrong time."

Eyes fixed on the glowing campus near the cliff, I respond with an unconvinced shrug.

"I mean it, Zelda. You asked me to be honest, and I am. If you want the full truth, here it is: this case was never strong to begin with. Hyrule's chances were slim from the start. Your testimony wouldn't change that because this isn't you vs. Karusa—it's Hyrule vs. Karusa. And honestly? He didn't do enough direct damage to the university itself to be held accountable for everything that happened to you and Link. I know it sucks—it sucks so much—but that's just the truth. If you want Karusa to pay for what he did to you personally, and if you want your voice heard, you'd have to sue him yourself."

I know she's right, and I wish it was that easy. But with everything that has happened lately, I'm not sure I have the courage it takes to add another court case to my plate. I'm already dealing with my father's death, taking over his responsibilities, trying to balance work and school life, finding an internship, moving into the townhome, and taking care of Malice. All while trying to fit in a serious relationship.

It's a lot... I'm not sure if I can handle facing Karusa in all of this, knowing that he has connections to Ganondorf, the very man I have been trying desperately to avoid.

I shake off the goosebumps and offer a casual smile. "I know, thanks Impa. I will think about it."

She nods, lips pressed together. "I'm sorry I can't do more."

"Everyone is doing their best," I say, "and if we end up losing the case, then that's what it is. We'll find out the verdict soon. There's only one testimony left, correct?"

"Yep," she huffs. "And it's the bastard himself."

Without wasting another thought on Karusa, I change the topic to something more lighthearted. "How have things been with you otherwise?" I ask, bringing my legs up onto the bench to turn my body fully toward her. "I haven't asked, and I feel terrible for not checking in on you more often."

"Everything's fine on my end," she replies with a shrug. She's back to eating cotton candy, swaying slightly in the rhythm of the music.

"How are things with Kiroh?"

She shrugs once more. "Normal."

"Just normal?"

"What's wrong with normal?" she laughs.

"It's not great, or excellent, or life-altering."

She looks at me sidelong. "Does it have to be?"

"No," I smile. "I guess not."

"Life's been chaotic enough. For once, I don't mind normal."

"That's good to hear. I want to know about everything that's been happening in your life lately. Good, bad, and normal."

Impa's eyes search the little space around us for something to talk about. "Kiroh works a lot," she then tells me. "Especially on the weekends. So we don't get to hang out as much. And baseball practice is starting soon, so there goes the rest of his freetime." She takes a breath, lifting her tone as her shoulders slump down. "But it's chill."

While her words may not seem convincing, she really does seem... Chill. It doesn't appear to bother her much, and that smile of hers tells me all I need to know.

"And you?" She nudges me with her shoulder. "How's it going with Link?"

I feel myself blushing a little as the memories of the past couple of days with Link flash before my eyes.

"Things are good," I chuckle, amused by some recent memories.

"What's funny?" she smirks.

"A few days ago, he tried spending the night at Urbosa's. She didn't know—she was already asleep when I snuck him into the house. Since Riju had occupied the only guest bedroom, we had to sleep out in the living room. The plan was that he would leave early in the morning before anyone would notice, but he got caught by Urbosa just as he was putting on his shoes."

Impa laughs, mouth filled with berry-flavored candy. "Did she kick him out?"

"Yes, and I think she enjoyed it. After he had left, Urbosa told me how proud she was of me for sneaking in a boy. She even filled two glasses of wine and was prepared to make a toast to my womanhood. It was five in the morning, mind yourself."

"Sounds about right."

After a moment of calm, Impa's laughter dies down gently with a satisfied sigh. She leans against my shoulder, the cabin rocking slightly as we circle back down. It's so peaceful up here, and I'm already sad about getting off once we arrive at the bottom again.

But that's life. We're always moving, always going up or down, never quite staying in one place for long. And the funniest part is, we don't realize we've made it to the top until we start going down. Maybe instead of fearing the end of the ride, we should just enjoy the view while we're going up. It's that simple.

"Any news from Pik?" Impa asks out of nowhere.

"What do you mean? Are you asking if he has graded my exam yet?"

"No, silly, I'm asking how things are with him and Malice. I thought she was staying with him."

"Oh! Yes, she is. I've been way too busy to check in on them. Time has just been flying."

"Is she still moving in with all of you?"

"Yes, I'll be picking her up from Pik's apartment on the day before Christmas."

"Or..." Impa lifts her head, facing me solemnly. "Maybe Malice can stay with Pik and I can move in with you guys?"

I frown at her suggestion, feeling bad for shaking my head. "I couldn't do that to Pik."

"Do what to him?"

"Malice," I explain. "I promised him that these living arrangements would only be temporary."

"I'm sure he'd be fine with Malice staying longer," Impa says, hinting at something. She doesn't know the full story—how they were dating in high school and broke up thanks to Ganon—nor does she have a clue how much Malice and Pik dislike each other.

"Impa..." I start, trying to find the simplest way of putting this without sharing anything too private.

"What, Zelda?"

"Pik and Malice have history," I say slowly.

"No shit. It was kinda obvious at the lodge. That's why I'm saying they should just stay together and then I can have the spare room in the townhome!"

"I would love for you to live with us, but Malice and Pik are not on good terms, you see?"

She looks painfully confused, as if picturing Malice and Pik as a couple—or exes—requires physically straining labor. "Did they break up or something?"

I blink, feeling equally confused now. "They have been broken up for years."

"Ha, you sure about that?" Impa raises a brow at me, once again hinting at something. "They were doing just fine on Thanksgiving, if ya know what I mean."

"I don't know what you mean."

She tilts her head, drops her shoulders, and tells me in a straightforward tone: "They slept together."

My jaw drops involuntarily. "On Thanksgiving? What do you mean?"

"You didn't know? Malice always sleeps with her door open, so when I went to check on her that night, I saw them together. They were passed out arm in arm, like some tragic renaissance painting."

"Were they dressed?" I ask curiously, my whisper barely audibly against the jolly Christmas music blaring in the back.

Impa thinks back, leaving me in suspense. Then she smirks at me and nudges my knee with hers. "That information will cost ya $5."

"Impa, just tell me!"

"What's it matter to you?" she laughs.

"I'm so curious!"

"Nah, you're nosy, that's what you are!"

I scowl. "Says the one who peeped at them like some creep."

"I was just checking on them," she defends, raising her nose snobbishly high. "It was a civil act of kindness."

"Mh, sure—you being kind to Malice? I don't think so."

Impa shrugs.

"So? Did they...?"

"I'll tell you if you go ride the bumper cars with me."

I roll my eyes at her, but agree with a weak, "Sure." We shake on it to make the deal official. "Now tell me."

"You little perv! They were dressed!"

I let out a long breath, feeling oddly relieved. Not that it would have been a problem if they hadn't been dressed, but something about it would have felt... complicated. More complicated than it already is, at least.

"Okay," I say, trying to sound casual, but I can feel the tension in my shoulders finally easing up.

Impa notices my unease and gives me a knowing look. "You don't like the idea of them together, do you?"

"It's not that. I just... I don't think it's a good idea for them to get involved again."

"Jealous much?"

I throw her a harsh look. "No, I'm not jealous. But Pik's in a good place right now, and Malice... she's going through a lot. She's also still dating Ganon from what she told me. So it might just complicate things for everyone if they start something right now. They should wait, figure things out first, and then maybe later..."

"You can't put feelings on hold," Impa chuckles. "If they both want it to happen, it's gonna happen."

I suppose she has a point. Malice and Pik are both adults, and if what Impa is saying is true, then something already did happen.

I try to think back to Thanksgiving. Most of us were out for drinks. Only Pik and Malice stayed at the lodge. I thought Malice and Pik couldn't stand each other—they seemed to actively avoid each other. I mean, the day we drove up to Mammoth Lakes, Malice made it very clear that she would rather stay at my house than sit in the same car as Pik.

So it's hard to imagine her talking to him, let alone sleeping with him.

"Why didn't she tell me?" I ask myself out loud.

"You really think Malice would tell you something personal?"

"Okay, fair point, but Pik would have told me, no?"

"He's not the type to brag about his conquests," Impa ponders. "Besides, I don't think that hooking up with his ex is really something he'd tell you, considering that he used to have a crush on you and all that."

"If you put it that way..."

I suppose neither of them would tell me if something happened between them—at least not right away. Pik might eventually open up about it. He tends to talk about things of the past rather than the present.

Malice might never tell me. But she might hint at it—maybe she already has; the day after Thanksgiving, when we went on that hike, she told me that she had feelings for someone. I asked for a name, but she refused to tell me, claiming she shouldn't like that person, and that it simply wasn't a good idea for her to get close to someone.

Initially, I thought it was Ganon or Link. Maybe even Karusa. It couldn't have been some random guy, because when I asked if I knew him, Malice remained silent, which, let's be honest, is almost the same as saying yes. If it's not Ganon, Link, or Karusa, who else—if not Pik—could it have been?

It makes me wonder why she said that "it's not a good idea for her to get close to someone." Is she worried about the safety of her lovers? Or is she worried about her own heart? I almost feel bad for her... It must be hard to have feelings for someone, knowing that you can't or shouldn't be with them...

Impa clears her throat, pulling me out of my thoughts. "Does it bother you that they didn't tell you?"

"No," I say, though I'm not sure if it's the truth. "I think I'm just surprised."

"Yeah, same. They don't really fit together."

"If I didn't know better, I would probably agree with you. But having spent the past 6 months getting to know Malice, I think that in many ways they could actually compliment each other."

It's not my place to judge, of course, but I see Pik and Malice as two tragic souls; complicated in their own remarkable ways. Pik is creative, thoughtful, and affectionate in ways not many people understand. Love, to him, is a promise of passion and loyalty. He is like a rainbow that gives colors to those who've only ever known a world without it. But that also makes him unfiltered and strong-headed, often pushing boundaries and challenging others to see the world through his lens, whether they're ready to or not. While it's one of his most beautiful qualities, it's also what makes him difficult to truly connect with on a deeper level, especially when it comes to matters of the heart.

Malice, in contrast, is guarded. She has so much color within her, but hides it all away behind gray walls, scared of letting anyone see the real her. She is a survivor after all, resilient and determined. Her past trauma has taught her not to rely on anyone but herself, and while that independence is admirable, it also means she rarely lets anyone close, scared of getting hurt again. Deep down, I'm sure she longs for connection, for someone to break through her defenses, but she's terrified of what it might mean if someone actually does.

Pik's creativity and passion could probably help Malice open up and see the world differently. He could show her that it's okay to trust in someone, as he is the type of friend who will do absolutely anything for you.

Malice, in return, could offer Pik the stability and understanding he craves, and ground his passions in something real and lasting.

With all that in mind, I can no longer say that their relationship would complicate things for everyone involved. Relationships are not so much about who we are with, as they are about who we are when we are with them. The point is to find someone who makes you more you, someone who sees through the armor you've built and doesn't flinch at what's beneath.

"For a long time," I say to Impa, "I thought finding someone to love meant finding someone who makes life less difficult. But I have come to learn that love happens when someone makes a difficult life worth it."

She smiles at me, but with a hint of reservation laced in her look.

"What?" I say.

"It's not that deep." Her arm folds around my shoulders, pulling me closer. "I love you, because I love you. No explanation needed."

I laugh softly, letting myself fall into her hug. "Yes, I'm probably overthinking it. Maybe there needn't be a reason to love."

"Let it happen and enjoy the ride," she nods.

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