Zelda sighs as she realizes that blood has stained her pillow. She prays that Link did not notice. Deep down, she knows that there is no way that Link could have ignored the blood; it is a sharp contrast against the cream and white pillows scattered across her bed. She can only hope he was not paying too much attention to her in the moment that he left her the bowl of soup.

How long can I hide this? She thinks to herself. I know I can never let Link--or anyone, for that matter--know that Ganondorf is of the Yiga Gang. I still cannot believe that Ganondorf is a member. It's so difficult to understand why anyone would wish to partake in the destruction of a peaceful country.

Zelda tugs the covers over her shoulders. She begins to ponder things.

Ganondorf really was correct. People would not get hurt if my father and I took action. The problem is, I really don't know what to do. I know we could train and arm professionals to protect our people. But what good is a group of fighters if they cannot determine the exact location of the Yiga Gang's next possible attacks? There is no particular pattern to the Yiga Gang crimes. They are sporadic. Besides, Ganondorf told me that if I dared to plan an attack against them, then...everyone I love will be killed.

I believe I know what I must do. The next time the Yiga Gang attacks...I must follow them. Ganondorf threatened to hurt my family if I planned to charge against the Yiga. But he did not forbid my following of them. If I follow them, I can uncover their intentions.

I know my peers despise me; I can understand their perspectives. My father's inaction truly has caused disaster upon this country. But I can change this.

Yet...their cruel words...Ganondorf's actions...

What if I really am just useless?

He was right. I couldn't save these people. I can't even safe myself. Why am I planning something that cannot even happen? If I even tell Link...

Ganondorf will kill him.

I don't know what to do...

Flopping onto her side, Zelda turns her gaze towards the window at the sunset. She exhales a steady breath, her mind a maelstrom of thoughts. She doesn't know what to do. She doesn't know what to think. So she focuses on the evening sky. The warm oranges and cool blues melt behind the sinking egg yolk sun. An eerily serene feeling washes through her like a cool wave. The scenery evokes a certain emotion within her, suddenly pulling her from the thoughts of bitterness and pain and curiosity that have evaded her of peace. As she watches the sun fall into the horizon, she closes her eyes, slowly fading and fizzing into a blissful dream.

***

"Zelda, my love," a voice calls. "Don't run through the weeds. You'll trip and hurt yourself."

Zelda, who is only four years old, simply giggles at the warning. She and her mother have been in the mansion garden catching fireflies as the evening sun fades and the turquoise and scarlet sky gradually gives birth to the moon. Zelda dances and twirls through the peonies, spinning and skipping across the forget-me-nots. The fireflies flash their golden lights intermittently, and when Zelda sees the brief twinkles, she attempts to snatch the buzzing bugs into her glass jar.

"But fireflies like flowers, Mama! I gotta go around the weeds to catch 'em!" Zelda playfully whines. She taps her fingers against the glass. Inside, a little firefly illuminates. "I got this one near the camellias."

Zelda's mother smiles, her green eyes softening as she watches her daughter play. "It is beautiful, dear. But don't forget to release the fireflies when you are finished."

Zelda rolls on the balls of her feet, holding the jar to her chest. "Of course I will! I just wanna catch this little firefly a friend. He was all by 'imself so I got him in the jar. I don't want him to be lonely," she says. She presses a little kiss to the top of the jar. "It's not fun bein' alone."

Zelda's mother hesitates. Her eyes narrow, a sad expression fixed upon her face. She stands from her place on the porch to approach her daughter. The madam president knows the loneliness that her daughter feels at times; as a mother, she has watched her daughter swing alone at preschool. She has seen the tears that roll down her daughter's face when her father does not join the family for dinner. Though Zelda is young, her mother knowns of the loneliness that plagues her daughter.

Zelda laughs and dances in the early moonlight, the fireflies fluttering about the yard. Zelda's eyes widen as she spots one in the rose bushes. Without thinking, Zelda bounds across the yard, not paying mind to the dips and holes in the dirt or the sudden concrete path. Her shoelaces become entangled, and she trips and slams to the ground, the glass jar shattering to hundreds of pieces. The firefly flies away.

Zelda begins to cry. Her knees are bloody, and her hands grasp broken pieces of the jar.

"M-Mama!" She sniffles, tears spilling down her face.

Her mother quickly dashes to Zelda's side and scoops her into her arms. "Oh, Zelda..." she sighs, gently stroking Zelda's hair. "It's okay, dear..."

"I-I...I just wanted..."

"Shh. It's okay. The firefly isn't alone, you see?" Her mother points to the group of fireflies, which resembles little glittering stars in the sky. Zelda clutches her mother's shirt and watches the little fireflies flash their lights. Zelda is mesmerized by them.
The one little firefly seems to have found himself a mate. The pair zips and dances around each other, the male firefly flickering his light like a beacon. Zelda smiles and looks to her mother.

"Zelda, my dear...you are never alone. I promise that I will always be here for you."

***

Zelda's eyes flash open, and she sits in stunned silence for a moment as she processes her dream; it was but a memory of her childhood. She closes her eyes for ten seconds, breathing slow and steady breaths.

I miss her, Zelda thinks to herself. I miss Mom.

Her room is now dark. The moon is in the sky, casting shadows across her bedroom floor. As Zelda lifts her arms to stretch them, she immediately halts midway; in the process of her movements, she had reopened the wounds in her back. She curses under her breath.

"Agh. It hurts. I can't keep bleeding all over my sheets and clothes," she hisses, turning over her stained pillow.

She knows she can't allow her wounds to remain untreated. If she doesn't treat them with some kind of antibiotic cream, she is sure her wounds will become infected. Then, she would be forced to go to the hospital...and inevitably, people would discover what happened to her. Zelda squeezes her eyes shut, inhaling and exhaling quickly. She tries to remain calm and composed. But every time she reconsiders her circumstance, feelings of shame and sadness and hatred alike brew in her heart.

Curse him. Curse Ganondorf. I...I don't think I will ever be able to enter that hellish locker room ever again...

"There is only one thing I can do," Zelda whispers, balling her fists. "I have to sneak downstairs."

She eases her legs over the edge of the bed, and she sighs at the throbbing soreness of her legs and lower body. Attempting to ignore her fatigue, she stands to her feet. She spares a quick glance to her watch; the time is 10:46 p.m. She realizes that the maids retire from their duties at 8:30 p.m., and Link is likely asleep in his room since she has not stirred for hours.

"The coast should be clear," she murmurs to herself, parting her bedroom door.

The rest of the house, to her expectation, is still and dark. Only distant chirping of crickets can be heard throughout the quiet corridors of the home. She tiptoes down the hallway, hesitating before she descends the staircase. She scrutinizes Link's bedroom. His door is closed, but no light peeks from beneath it. She looks to the floor, which cleanly shimmers in the moonlight. After waiting a few moments, Zelda decides he must be asleep, so she continues her way down the stairs.

She steps slowly and carefully as to not make any noise. Her hand tightly grips the stair rail as she climbs down one by one. As she nears the base of the stairs, she considers how difficult bandaging her own back will be; but she supposes she will have to manage. She has no choice, after all.

She sneaks past the kitchen, continuing down a hallway to find the door to the supply closet. With quick glances to her left and right sides, she checks a final time to make sure that her surroundings are empty. The home is empty. Then, she slowly parts the door to the closet, flipping on the light switch. Light illuminates layers and cabinets of arrays of medicine, pills, and the etcetera to the liking.

Zelda scans the closet, her eyes scrutinizing each of the differing bottles. She selects a roll of bandages, some Neosporin antibiotic cream, and some medicine to appease the pain and soreness of her body. She sits onto the floor, criss-crossing her legs. She lays each remedy into her lap. Zelda decides to pull her hair into a bun atop her head so that her long tresses will not interfere with her own first aid.

She slowly unbuttons each button of her pajama top, and she winces when she sees her red-stained white bra. No time to worry about that. The maids will certainly be perplexed. I suppose I'll have to throw it away. She rests her shirt around her waist. Then, she slips off her pajama pants. Her legs are more scarred than she had thought. She sighs.

"Now the fun part," she murmurs.

She slowly squeezes the cream into her hands and bends her arm over her head to cover some wounds on her back. The position stretches her scars, however, causing the scars to open slightly, resulting in an unpleasant feeling. Zelda grits her teeth.

"Can't complain now. Come on. I have to do this..." she murmurs.

She tries bending her arm down and back to cover the wounds on her lower back; these scars are simpler to reach. Her hand rubs the Neosporin across the small of her back. She winces as she comes into contact with each cut, with each engraving in her own skin. She hesitates mid-movement, drawing her hand back to her chest.

This happened to me. I was attacked by Ganondorf.

He took advantage of me.

"Come on, Zelda. Focus," she curses herself.

I wouldn't be here...if he hadn't...

I can't think about this now. But it hurts. It hurts so much.

Zelda sighs, taking a break from the cream to instead take a pain reliever. She swallows the pill quickly even though she knows it can only temporarily soothe her agony. Her mind wanders as she sits on the floor.

She knows the antibiotics, over time, can heal her skin. But they can't heal the scars on her soul.

"Zelda?" A groggy voice suddenly breaks the silence of the quiet home. A voice that is a wave against a still sea.

Shit.

Zelda quickly pulls her shirt over her shoulders, hastily buttoning each button until her shirt is halfway buttoned; but she knows it is of no use.

No. No. NO.

Maybe he didn't see anything. God, please say he didn't see anything.

Zelda can't turn around. Instead, now, her eyes are wide, and her body is frigid. She can't move. She almost can't breathe. Ganondorf's words run through her head.

You're worthless.

You deserve this.

"Zelda..." the voice repeats. It is urgent, yet it is a distance away. Zelda can't move.

What do I do? I...I can't get up and run. He's already blocking the way. I can't escape to my room. I can't run to the kitchen. He's faster than me.

I can't look at him.

I can't.

Zelda wants to rip her heart out of her chest; it burns in shame, in sadness and true self-loathe. She wants to scream and cry and run away and never return. Still, her body refuses to move.

The footsteps slowly approach her, quiet yet distinct as they pad against the marble floors. He's coming. She can't move.

I can't let him know. What do I do? I want to disappear. Please, Hylia, hear my prayer: take me away from here. I can't do this. What do I do?!

She breathes slowly, returning each of her items to the closet. She still doesn't turn around, but she instead whispers, "Bodyguard. I command that you return to your quarters to sleep."

Link stands still behind her. He does not speak a word. She prays that he just leaves her alone.

"Zelda," he asks, his voice low and undefinable. "What happened to you?"

Her eyes widen. She knew he would ask this. She knew it. She never should have come down the stairs. She never should have attempted to sneak. Because somehow, he found her.

She can't answer this. She knows she can't. She cannot forget Ganondorf's words, which constantly replay in her head like a broken record player. His fierce touch, the damage he has done to her body, and the pain she feels will never let her forget anything he said to her. She is held a prisoner by his actions. She has no choice but to lie.

"Zelda," Link asks again. This time, his voice is lower. "What happened to you?"

She still doesn't turn around. Instead, she lies.

"I was painting a picture of a red rose on my bed because I couldn't sleep...and I unfortunately stained myself and my pillow in the process," she forces a laugh. "Silly, right? I'm feeling ill, so I decided to retrieve some medicine."

She exhales slowly. Her lie was well-thought. She just prays that he accepts it and leaves her alone. The air is quiet as she awaits his response.

"This afternoon, I cleaned a trail of blood up the stairs that lead to your room. I can smell it. It's all over you. Zelda, please, damn it. What happened?"

That's why the floor was clean. I did leave a trail this afternoon. Oh my Hylia. I'm dead now. There is no way...

There is no way...I cannot let him know the truth. I can't. How can I say?

"Link," Zelda trembles, holding each side of her pajama top. "Go back to your room."

Please, she thinks to herself. Please, Link. I can't let him hurt you. I can't let him hurt you how he hurt me.

Please. Please, go.

"Zelda, please. Please, look at me! You're bleeding! Someone did this to you. I wasn't there to protect you, damn it!" He nearly shouts, his voice strained and shaky. She has never hurt him like this before. He sounds so...afraid.

"Link," She whispers. "If I tell you, then you die. My father dies. Everyone I love dies. Just go to your room."

Her gaze falls to the floor.

She cannot find any other words to say. But she knows her words are true. She just wants to protect him. She wants to protect the people whom she loves. She couldn't save herself.

But she can save them.

"Let me see your wounds," he pleads. "Zelda, I won't ask questions, okay? Damn it. I-I wasn't there to protect you. At least let me stop the bleeding."

She hesitates.

Then, she slowly unbuttons her shirt until she parts each side, resting it onto the floor. She squeezes her eyes shut as she feels Link's stunned gaze across her bare (besides the blood soaked bra) back. Her scars, which are bloody and almost jagged, stretch all the way across her back, engraved deeply into her skin. They resemble claw marks, like that of a beast, that of a man. Some bruises are prevalent in places on her spine where Ganon pulled her against him. Dark purple bruises and teeth marks can be seen across her shoulders and neck.

"Who the hell...Zelda. Oh my Hylia. I-I...I could have stopped this...damn it, Zelda! W-why...why didn't you text me?"

Zelda doesn't look at him. Her eyes are focused on her hands. Even her wrists are faintly bruised from Ganon's grip.

"I told you. He threatened everyone I love...and I-I couldn't...I c-couldn't...stop..."

She can't speak. Her voice cracks, her entire body trembling now. She cannot look at Link. She can only shake and tremble in shame and agony.

"If I find out who did this to you, Zelda...he's dead. This shouldn't have happened. This shouldn't have happened, damn it!" Link curses, his breaths rapid and angry. She can feel his anger. His vengeance. Suddenly, his voice drops low and dark and almost afraid. She can hear the fear and threat in his voice.

"Did he take advantage of you, Zelda?"

She doesn't look at him. She doesn't speak.

You're worthless.

You little whore.

You deserve this.

This is all your fault.

"Zelda..."

He'll never love you.

Tell me, Zelda. How does it feel? How does it feel to be useless beneath a Yiga Gang member?

Suddenly, her breathing hastens, and her vision becomes blurry. She feels a sharp, excruciating pain in her legs and lower body, repeating and unending like a flashing stop light. She can recall the feeling of two hands squeezing her wrists until she loses circulation, until her head spins. She can feel hands digging deeply into her spine.

And she cries.

She leans forward into her knees, a wail escaping her lips.

You're worthless.

Her entire body shakes uncontrollably as the feeling of helplessness crashes over her like a tsunami. She wails, her voice worn and shaky, her knees weak and frail, her hips scarred and sore.

"Zelda..." Link whispers.

She knows that there are no words that he can say that could possibly understand what she has gone through.

"I'm so, so sorry..."

She can only see and feel Ganondorf. She can only hear his repeating words of threat and anger.

She slows her cries to finally look at Link from over her shoulder. His eyes are wide and deep with anger, with vengeance for the soul who dared to tarnish hers. She understands. He can see the weariness in her eyes, the bruise on her cheek. He understands. She doesn't say a word. There is nothing to be said. She merely passes him the antibiotic cream and the roll of bandages.

She winces as he gingerly applies the cream across her back, his touch gentle as he spreads cream down until he reaches the small of her back. She can tell there are things that he wants to say, but he seems to hesitate. She doesn't fight this.

Instead he applies the thick bandages across varying parts of her back. She yelps slightly at the application; but nothing can compare to the pain she had felt earlier that day. She decides that this will do. After more moments of silence, and Link's assistance, her back is covered with bandages and antibiotics.

She turns her entire body until she is facing him. She can only look up into his eyes.

"I don't care if this person killed me, Zelda. You should've texted me. This...this shouldn't have happened to you..."

Zelda can only offer a sad smile. "I-I'm still here...I...I am in one piece, Link."

Link narrows his eyes, parting his mouth to speak—but he stops as his eyes seem to observe the scars and bruises across her neck, down her chest, and down her stomach and abdomen. His eyebrows upturn in anger and a certain sadness she has never seen before.

"This bastard..."

Zelda tenses. She never really considered how cruel Ganondorf was; how powerful, how perverse and evil he was. Now, it is displayed across her body. He didn't just take advantage of her. He completely destroyed her.

"Zelda, I know you won't tell me anything. But I swear to you. One day, I'll find this godforsaken bastard and I will kill him."

Zelda doesn't really know what to say. She wants the man who hurt her to be revealed. But she would never say his name. Too much is at stake. Although she couldn't protect some Hyruleans, she knows four people she can protect for certain.

From this moment forward, she will protect everyone she can. No matter the cost.

Even if I am worthless...

I have to try.

I have to.

"Link," she whispers. "I-I...I don't want to...I don't want to be alone. May...May I stay with you for a little while?"

Ganondorf's hands were rough, ragged and selfish and greedy, forceful and unforgiving. He scarred her body. He scarred her soul.

But Link is soft. Link is tender and gentle and considerate; his touch is like dew on a lily, teasing and sweet.

Link nods. "Of course," he whispers. "Anything. Please, tell me anything, and I'll do it for you. That, I can promise. I swear."

He gently scoops her into his arms, being cautious as to not hurt her fresh bandages. He grasps her bloody pajamas and hangs them over his opposite shoulder. Then, he walks, carrying her up to his room. She closes her eyes, resting her head against his chest.

He quietly pries open his bedroom door, turning on the light. He slowly, carefully, places Zelda onto his bed. She looks up at him, her face sad and worn.

"You can wear my old t-shirt. It'll be better than nothing," he sighs. His eyes scan her bruised and scarred body once more. A pained expression crosses his face.

Then, he turns to find a shirt for her to wear. After searching through his drawers, he turns and tosses her a sky blue shirt with white patterns sewn across it. She tugs it over her head. Link flips off the lights and closes his bedroom door.

"I-I...I don't want to bother you," she whispers. Tears brim in the corners of her eyes. "I-I'm sorry. I j-just—"

Link rests his hand over hers. "You would never bother me, Zelda. I want to be here. I want to be here for you..."

She hiccups, her shoulders slightly shuddering. Suddenly, she can't help but to grab his shirt, a piteous cry escaping her lips.

"It hurts, Link!" She cries, burying her head into his chest. She can feel the scars throbbing in her back. She can feel the hands that put them there. "I-I wanted to die..."

Link just holds her. There is nothing more he can do.

"N-never before...never before have I felt so alone...so... so helpless..." she whispers.

Link gently strokes her hair. His hands feel so delicate and so foreign than those of Ganondorf. She sighs into Link's arms.
He smells fresh and clean, a scent she revels in.
He feels like home; he feels safe. She wraps her arms around him.

"I promise, Zelda. I will find him," he whispers into her hair. "No matter the cost."

They nestle into her covers, Link pulling the thick blankets over Zelda. Both of them know that if they were caught together like this, then they would be dead; but in the moment, neither of them care. She cannot be alone, and he will not let her suffer through this night by herself. Zelda rests her head against his chest, her small frame curled against his.

"I promise you, Zelda. Never again will I leave your side. I will find away to always be here for you. You are not alone."