#if its not clear wood is stabbing the bokoblin with the now sharp edge of his broken sword

[marenwithanm]

Chapter 4 part 6! Guys I don't think Wood appreciated being made fun of lol. (Also this is about the level of violence you can expect from this comic going forward. Canon typical with some blood 👍make sure to prioritize your mental health everyone)

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[ashleyswrittenwords]

prompt: Zelda tries to help Link with his wounds after he fought for her, and Link is refusing her help because he doesn't want to seem weak.

Brilliant, Anon. I sort of wanted to make this longer but it felt inorganic. 

Edit: All of my posts format wonky! I don’t get it. If it distracts you, it looks way better on my blog for some reason.

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“This should be fine,” she muttered. The flame birthed fromthe flint and gathering of moss, spreading its fingers toward the wood. Soon it wouldgrow to cling onto the logs and burn brightly against the night. The sun hadlong abandoned them before they were forced to stop their travels back to the castle.Zelda cast a worried look at Link as he grit his teeth to drag a rolled up palletfrom his horse. It dropped to the grass and he gripped his shoulder with a clenchedjaw.

“I can get it,” she stated.

Before she could think about crossing to him, he shook his head.A sharp pain spread from his collar bone to his bicep. Link coughed to mask whatevernoise the burning conjured in his chest caused. His opposite arm gripped onto the palletstraps. He could feel her eyes staring at his back.

It was the time of evening where there was a blue hue to everythinguntil the night buries all in darkness. Link looked up at the princess from hisplace on the ground. She was scanning the tree line with a nervous fidget in hermotions. With a jerk at the straps, the pallet rolled out easily before the fire.When that didn’t seem to get her attention, Link frowned.

“Princess,” he stopped as she flinched, clearly anticipating something. It soured his mood even more. Zelda looked at him withwide eyes. The man cleared his throat, “The fire.”

“O-oh,” she finally tore herself from the edge and threw onsome sticks they had collected earlier. Link arose once she grew near to digthrough the satchel attached to his horse’s saddle and her eyes were drawn tothe trees once more.

It was supposed to be an uneventful day. A simple trek tothe outskirts of Hyrule Field and back before dark. Her goal was to find asilent princess to grow in her windowsill. Of course, she doubted it would growlong, but with her recent studies there was a possibility she would get theconditions just right.

Stuck in her thoughts and her assessments of the variedwildlife, she had asked Link to fetch her the skein of water from the horse.Against his expressed wishes, she spied a blue color against the field of dulledgreen. A smile had pulled at her and walked on through the trees. Could this beit? The princess hadn’t expected to find one so early on.

Zelda brushed passed the foliage and knelt to find a patchof blue fabric. Beyond that, her brows crested her forehead and a throbbing inher chest began, sunken in the grass was a skeleton. A whizzing sound piercedthe air and an arrow sunk into the skeleton’s ribs, just missing her head.

She screamed.

 With a sigh, Link dropped the wooden box on the pallet andsat down, doing his best to avoid using his injured shoulder. Beside him, theprincess watched uneasily. It wasn’t the first time he had injured himself whenthey were out, but it had never been this severe. Blood dampened his shirt and aroundthe wound was one of her scarfs she had – thankfully – left at the bottom ofher bag from visiting Revali.

Link peeled it off slowly, somewhat mournful, “I apologize forruining your scarf.”

“It’s nothing,” she said, looking between him and the fire.It had been given to her by some duke to the north, however it served a far greaterpurpose as far as Zelda was concerned. His brows were pulled together as thelast layer of scarf was pulled off. His blood dried to the fabric and the startof a scab was ripped off. Through the rip in his tunic, she could see blood wellin the gash. Link inhaled sharply and stifled a noise.

Bokoblins snorted around her in a way that sounded likemocking laugh. Zelda whipped her head up to see Lizalfos blend out of their camouflageand slither from the trees. In quickened breaths, she gripped empty air at her beltand was hit with the alarming realization that she had left the dagger Link hadgiven her just for situations like this. With shaking hands, she swiveled foran opening only to find four bokoblins surround her and two lizalfos flankingthem.  

One approached her with a mouthful of gnarling teeth. He wieldeda broadsword, raising it with a deep war cry. Princess Zelda braced herself forher impending death.

 Link thumbed the rip in the tunic, crestfallen. Biting theinside of his cheek, his hands found the hems of both the tunic and his undershirtand tugged it upward. Immediately, agony stabbed through his injury and downhis arm. The garments fell from his hands as one gripped his right arm as if itwould quell the pain.

The princess found his eyes, “Let me help.”

“No,” he winced out harder than he meant. Then more gentlyat that worried look on her features, “No, I’ll be fine.”

“You’re making it worse, Link,” Zelda said critically. Worryturned to analysis as she drew closer. He wanted to move away, but didn’t. Limbfingers touched his tunic, moving it away to get a better look at the slash inhis shoulder. If he wasn’t so affected by the sting, he would have been humoredthat the expression was the same when she was examining herbs at the castle.Suddenly, she met his gaze, “I think I need to cut your shirt off.”

He pulled away, “What? No.”

“Link, it will open even more if you try pulling it off.”

Zelda sounded almost chastising. He looked at her with afurrowed brow. This was his favorite tunic, but he refrained from verbalizing it.Link thought for a long moment, “Help me, then.”

She opened her mouth to argue and stopped herself before shebegan. “Very well then,” she sat in front of him and instructed that theyshould pull his uninjured arm out first. “I’ll be slow. Let me know if I hurtyou.”

Her hands replaced his at the hems. “You won’t,” he muttered,much more sure than she was. Delicately she moved the clothing up and ignored everythingher governess had told her about propriety when it came to men. The fingers ofhis injured arm gripped hers when she passed his abdomen, she stopped and realizedhis breathing was labored. His other arm retched out of the sleeve. It pulledthe fabric inward, but it was finally free.

“Slow, Link!” she whispered it out, partially afraid that speakingany louder would hurt him and, goddesses, he just wished it were over already. Henodded, spurring her on. Zelda pulled his tunic and undershirt from his head. “Okay,”Link said, gently prying her fingers off, “I’ve got it.”

Sinking to his side, she suddenly felt useless. It was fullydark now and made her add another branch to the fire for good measure. The flameslicked shadows against the black. Her eyes followed, scanning the silhouettesof the forest.

“They’re not coming back,” Link suddenly said as he wettedthe thread. She found his eyes on her when she turned. They stared at each otherfor a beat before he looked down at the needle, “If that’s what you’re worriedabout.”

Once he had successfully pulled the string through and tiedit off, he found himself muttering, “It’s the upside of killing those things.”

A hand pushed her back and she was suddenly on the ground.There was a loud clash of metal and a bokoblin wail. Then, another. And anotheruntil Zelda opened her eyes to see the monsters that had surrounded her bloodiedand unmoving. With a heaving chest, Link stood in the middle of the corpses. Hiseyes darted from the corpses and to her sitting form, “Are you hurt?”

“N-no I-” Zelda turned and looked passed him. Fourbokoblins. Concern crossed her. Link helped her up, while he did he watched forany signs of harm. Then, she saw it. The stray Lizalfo had its bow drawn from atree behind Link. She yelled out his name.

It happened fast. His first step was to assure that shewas protected and the second cut the arrow to the ground with his blade, but thesecond Lizalfo was already upon him. It reared back on its hindlegs and slasheddown the curved sword. The sound of ripping clothes filled her ears and she foundherself screaming. Link and the monster struggled until Link could bring themaster sword up and thrusted forward. The Lizalfo screeched, spewing blue bloodas the sword cut it clean through.

Without a moment spared, he grabbed the hilt of the fallenmonster’s weapon and threw it up at the archer. It imbedded itself into thecrook of the Lizalfo’s shoulder and it fell with a horrifying scream.

“Come,” he said hurriedly while pulling her into a jog.

The first thing she saw was the blood running down his arm.“Link,” she trembled. “I’m sorry.”

“I know. Come on we don’t have time, Zelda,” he swallowedthickly and pulled her back through the trees toward where their horses grazed.

 Zelda snapped out of her thoughts and turned.

Feeling her gaze, he looked up from the wound. A part of herwanted to apologize again. Her stubbornness had costed him his shoulder. Linkassumed what she was thinking, “Are you still worried about it coming back?”

She rested her chin on her knees as she looked up at him, “Whatif they have a bigger base and they’re looking for us right now?”

“Well,” he stuck the needle between his teeth and leanedback on his hands. “They aren’t that smart and I’m almost positive you stumbledon their ‘base’.”

“Let me,” she held her hand out.

Again, he gave her that look. Link sat up again, “You don’thave to worry yourself over me, princess.”

“You were going to use your nondominant hand.”

“Zelda,” he trailed off with a long look at her. “I’m fine.”

“Link,” she raised her chin, and motioned for the needleagain. “No, you’re not.”

A heat boiled between them that mounted on anger. Resentmenthinted itself in his eyes that made Zelda soften, “Please.”

Hesitantly, he resigned to the princess’s demands. She tookthe needle in between her thumb and pointer finger and took the clean part ofthe scarf to attempt to clean the wound.

As she dabbed at the wound, Link set his jaw. “Do you need meto instruct you?”

She pursed her lips, “What kind of scientist doesn’t know basicmedicine?”

The first couple of sutures were slow, but Zelda soon developeda rhythm. The slash was long and seemed to only scrape the surface. As she worked,she felt his heat and, more noticeably, the way he looked at her. The princessbit her lip to distract her from just how built her knight attendant was andtried to keep in the mindset that she was only interested in treating his wounds.Scars scraped down on his lower bicep. None were as large as the wound she wasstitching.

However, as she stitched lower, there was a rather obviousscar trailing across his chest. It was jagged and older compared to the smaller,whiter scars. There wasn’t one complaint from him and the man seemed to releaseany tension from earlier. Her fingers were quick and precise and it made himwonder if there would be a scar left at all.

“What is that scar from?” she asked.

Link blinked, looking down, “Which one?”

“Um,” Zelda awkwardly stopped her movements. With her freehand, she touched his chest. Her fingers trailed down length of the line. Then,like he was fire, her hands jerked back and she grew pink. “That one.”

A thin veil of a smile was on his lips. It was almost shy.

“Years ago,” his eyes returned to her fingers. “I thought Iwas ready to take on a lynel.”

“That’s irresponsible,” laughter lined her words.

“Unbelievably,” he said. When he spoke, she could feel hisbreath on her. The pink dusted on her cheeks darkened.

“Zelda?”

She paused again, looking up with soft eyes. Stupidly, itmade him wish that the Lizalfo was smart enough to leave a bigger wound just soshe would have to work longer.

“Thank you.”