Before there was Light: Part Nine
“Goddess, Impa be glad there are some battles you haven’t fought…”
I smiled, helping Julia back into her chair. It was very early in the morning, and the poor girl had been sick yet again. The pregnancy was so very, very hard on Julia. It must be something about Hylian women; it seems so many of them suffer greatly.
“I cannot believe that I am expected to endure five more months of this,” she muttered, gesturing for me to sit next to her, “and in this forsaken palace… it’s always too hot, or too cold, and the servants hovering all over me aren’t really helping at all.”
“Well, I am indeed sorry,” I smiled, handing her a small cup of herbal tea.
“Oh, not YOU Impa… you’re too much of a friend to be a bother. It’s the poor extra serving staff Fiate detailed to me. I swear Impa, the man approaches everything like a war. Something goes wrong, just dispatch more troops to fix the problem. I can’t seem to shake the nausea, so send in an army of nurses and maids. I need to get out of here!”
I felt sorry for her. Of course, she was experiencing something I never had, and in all honesty likely never will, but it was easy to see the grind it was taking on her. It did not help that Fiate was away in the southeast. I glanced about the room for a blanket as Julia’s shivering increased. In a smaller room I could have adjusted the actual temperature to suit her needs, but all these palace rooms were large and hard to monitor. And perhaps that is why I offered.
“Julia, what if you came to live at my house during the rest of your pregnancy? It would probably be more comfortable for you, and best for your baby. I could arrange it all with the doctors, I even wager they will find it beneficial as well.”
“That would be lovely dear,” Julia smiled back, pulling the blanket I have given her closer, “but it’s not doctors who will be the hardest to convince…”
“Oh you leave Fiate to me,” I laughed, “we both know he is not as strong willed as the general public thinks. All that I need to do is convince him that you will be safer at the house then here and he will fold.”
She smiled and nodded, and then grimaced again.
“Goddess! Impa, I think I am going to get sick again!”
*******
The bell tolls out three. Sighing, I look at the smaller clock that is on my desk, as though the Clock Guard might be wrong for once in his life. Its small hands indicate 3:04. No such luck… looks like another sleepless night for Mistress Impa.
Sighing again, I begin to pace the room. Growling irritability, I force myself to lie on the bed. What is wrong with me tonight? Gannondorf is here, but that has never kept me up before… it is not the princess; she is sleeping soundly in her room. I watched the coming and going today, and it seems as though Gannondorf only brought two attendants, neither of them Garo. The princess is in little to no danger tonight from what I can tell, but I still cannot shake the restless feeling. Sighing, I get up again, and return to my pacing.
Gannondorf arrived late yesterday during my lesson, and I instantly sought out what was going on. To my great vexation I found he was planning on being at the palace for a few weeks, that far from just showing up Fiate had invited him, and that for some reason Fiate had neglected to even TELL me any of this. I had actually shouted at him for a bit over it, spending his ensuing lecture in an obvious state of disgruntled anger. In retrospect, I should really thank the fates that Fiate and I are old friends, otherwise I would probably have wound up rotting in the basement of a Shadow Temple torture chamber about fifteen winters ago…
A light rap on my door draws my attention back to the room. Who is wanting to see me at this hour, and how did they know I was awake? It is a soft knock, fairly low on the door. It must be a younger person, probably Ainee.
“Come,” I call out, loud enough to be heard outside the door, but no further. The door creeks open and a slight, feminine, figure slips through, allowing the heavy wood to close behind her. It’s not Ainee though… unless she has found a way to grow out her hair nearly a foot and dye it yellow-blond in one night.
“Princess?” I am sure surprise must be clear in my voice.
“I needed to talk to you Impa… I hope I didn’t wake you?”
“No, no… I was up,” I reply, gesturing for her to come to the bed. She walks over and sits cross-legged on the bed, giving me a half smile as I sit down across from her. Sitting next to her, I am reminded of how much she resembles Julia. Her mother had the same hair, eyes, and pointed features, not to mention the fact that it seems as though Zelda will be sharing her slight stature. Even at twelve springs, I still tower over the princess and, unless she hits a sudden growth spurt with the next few, I imagine she will barely hit my shoulder. Perhaps it is the memories of Julia that are helping to put me at ease, or the late hour with no sleep, but for some reason I feel exceptionally warm and gentle; as though it would be perfectly natural to rap the princess up in a tight hug.
“I had another dream…” she whispers.
“Was it disturbing?” I ask, trying extra hard to let concern shine through my words and eyes. The princess almost looks shocked.
“Uh, well, not in some ways…” she is obviously thrown off balance by me. It is actually a little depressing to have someone surprised by an open show of caring, particularly Zelda.
“I was standing in my garden,” she goes on, “when an evil red light began to radiate out from Greudo Valley. A black cloud swept out after the light, gobbling up the entirety of Hyrule in a shroud. Then suddenly, a light from the Lost Wood shone out, piercing the darkness and cutting towards me.”
“Well, that does sound rather disturbing…” I mumble, glancing towards the door. As if Garo Ninja were really going to bust it open at that moment… Fate is rarely so manifest…
“That’s not the end though,” Zelda goes on, drawing my attention back to her, “running towards me down the path of light was a boy from the forest. He was a little taller then me, dressed like a Kohria, and there was a blue fairy with him. He ran up to me and gave me the Spiritual Stone from the forest. Then I sent him off to find the others. The whole time, the black cloud was growing and growing, spreading out over Hyrule, but everywhere the boy ran, there was light…” she looks up to me expectantly, “well, what does it mean, Impa?”
What does it mean? Since when I have been a sage?
“Well,” I begin, “from what I could say, it probably means that you and the forest boy will avert some disaster from sweeping Hyrule.”
“I thought that too!” At least she seems visibly relieved about this.
“I also think,” she goes on, lowering her voice as though someone might be listening, “that Gannondorf is the dark cloud from Greudo Valley… I know daddy trusts him, but I think he’s scary and mean… and I know you do to Impa, so don’t try to deny it!”
That is one thing the princess and I are sure to agree on.
“Well, what do you think?” she presses, leaning forward expectantly.
“I think you should get some sleep, princess,” I reply, standing, “we will both be able to think clearer on this in the morning…”
“Can I sleep with you?”
“What?” I am more surprised then incredulous.
“I wanna sleep in here with you…”
“Princess, you are twelve-”
“Impa!” she begs, eyes wide and starting to glisten, “pleeeeeeeeeeeeeese?”
Sighing resignedly, I pull back the covers on my bed and Zelda shoots up onto the hard mattress. I have never taken to palace finery… I slide into my spot next to her. The princess sighs contentedly, and burrows into me. Given that I normally sleep on my back, this more involves her grinding her head between my chin and shoulder and squeezing her arms around me as if I were some giant toy animal.
“You’re soft without your Shiekah leather on…” she whispers.
“Palace born weakness… before I came here I slept armored…” I mutter back.
“Night Impa,” she murmurs into my neck.
“Goodnight princess,” I intone.
“Don’t talk… sing my lullaby,” she commands, squeezing a little tighter to display her affection.
Smiling in the dark, I begin to gently stroke Zelda’s soft hair with my right hand that she has taken shelter under. Softly I begin to hum the lilting tune of the Royal Family’s traditional lullaby. After Zelda’s breath has become deeper and more rhythmic, I whisper out the words into her sleeping ear.
Princess dear,
Safe in here,
Let my love hold you tight.
Dreams come and go,
Like winds to and fro,
But love will stay through time…
Princess dear,
Have no fear,
My love will hold you tight…
*******
I am no doctor, nor have I spent a great deal of time helping women birth, but I knew something was wrong.
Julia had been in labor for many hours, and her moans of pain and protest seemed to be lessening only for lack of stamina to keep crying. The best three midwives in Hyrule were present, along with noted surgeon Jethro Skutulia, but they all seemed at a loss. The women were still trying to aid Julia when Jethro took me aside.
This was before the curse, and Jethro was a tallish man, who was slightly on the heavy side, balding with a well kept beard. Both skilled and rich beyond imagination, Fiate was one of the few men in all Hyrule who could afford such a doctor. Jethro is, to the best of my knowledge, a quarter Shiekah, and I have my suspicions that Shiekah magic bolsters his healing skills. However, the half-breed’s eyes were dark with worry as he spoke to me in hushed tones.
“Mistress Impa,” he began, casting a worried glance over his shoulder, “I no longer think it possible to save both the mother and the child. If this continues, they will both die. I strongly recommend that we finish the birth with a cesarean; in all likelihood the queen will die, but we might still save the babe…”
I remember wondering why he told me this, but the harsh reality was soon broke. Julia was a queen, her husband Fiate was the King of Imperial Hyrule. Jethro does not wish to make the decision to end such a person’s life; he’d rather cover himself by shuffling the choice onto me. The operation would place Julia in a position were her survival was highly unlikely, but to forgo it would also be highly dangerous. Perhaps ideally, Fiate himself would be forced to deal with this, but there is some old, silly, Hylian superstition that no male other then the surgeon should witness a woman give birth.
I was at a loss. What would Julia want?
“Mistress Impa… I need to know what to do…”
Something in me snapped that I do not think ever fully healed. My right arm shot out, fingers circling Jethro’s throat.
“YOU are the surgeon, figure it out! Save them both in whatever way possible, or you will have more deadly people to fear then Lord Fiate!”
“Yes, Mistress,” he gurgled through my iron grip. I released him, glaring hard.
“I think a cesarean is the most logical course of action for both of them,” he murmured bowing once, “but you may want to let Lord Fiate know the situation.”
An hour later, the piercing cry of an infant tasting air for the first time rang out. Fiate had joined me by that time, throwing aside tradition the moment he heard what was happening. There was odd splattering sound, and something like water dripping on the floor. And then Jethro emerged from behind the sheet that partitioned the room, clothes bloody. The glance he gave us before intently starting at his hands as he rubbed a towel over them told me everything; Julia was dead. Fiate must have seen it too… he gave a small cry and sank to his knees.
“Go to her Fiate,” Jethro advised, gesturing to the curtain, “she has lost too much blood, and does not have long…”
Fiate nearly bowled Jethro over as he darted through to his wife. Jethro looked wearily over to me with forlorn eyes. Greedy and somewhat of a rat, Jethro DID have compassion, even before his curse.
“I tried everything…” he murmured, more to himself then me I think, “potions, fresh fungi, Shiekah healing, even the dart arts to keep her soul sealed to the body… I was not strong enough…”
I left him muttering in the room and went to see Julia.
There was blood everywhere; on the walls, the floor, knives and other instruments scattered around… and not all of it was Hylian. I saw a headless chicken tossed into the corner, and shuddered. Apparently, Jethro HAD tried everything; dark arts included…
Fiate was kneeling near the head of the bed, grasping Julia’s hand and starting at her with tear filled eyes. The new baby was in his other arm, cradled against his chest. Julia’s face was a pale I have seen all too often. Not the pale of a scholar stuck in a basement, or even the pale of someone in the most immense pain, but the pale of someone drained… someone who no longer has anything left under the skin. A blanket covered her from the chest down, but the deep crimson stains still spreading in it gave me an indication of what she must look like beneath its folds.
“She’s beautiful, isn’t she Fiate…” her voice was a raspy whisper that I could barely hear at the foot of the bed, “just like we said she’d be…”
“Julia…” Fiate croaked out, tears starting to spill.
“I don’t want to call her after mother anymore… Let’s call her Zelda… I like that name… it’s so pretty…”
“Just like her,” Fiate managed between gulps of air, still trying to choke back his tears.
“Impa,” she smiled weakly over to me, “please… help Fiate look after Zelda… he’s barely more then a big kid himself… can’t have him raise her all by himself…”
I nodded, tears beginning to fill my eyes as well.
“I swear, Julia… nothing will ever happen to her…”
“You’re… so… over…. dramatic…” her breath was becoming shallow, and talking was obviously becoming impossible. I had been on many battle fields; I knew Julia was close to Death’s Door. Julia’s eyes closed, a peaceful smile touching her lips.
“Julia?” Fiate cried, leaning closer, “please, stay with me… we need you!”
“Love her twice, dear…” she whispered, eyes still closed, “once… once… for each of us….
“Julia!” Fiate cried again, grip tightening on her hand, “Please! Don’t leave me!”
“Shhhh, silly…. You’ll wake the baby….”
And then she was gone…
Fiate moaned, but held Zelda tight. Hunching slightly, he cradled the babe and hugged his departed wife. I was only able to stand there, arms limp at my sides, hands clinched into fists. I would not sleep that night, staying with Fiate next to Julia’s body for the whole vespers. We grieved by the bedside all night, taking turns cradling and feeding Zelda. At last, around the third bell, I began to weep. I cried as I had not since the Shiekah runner had told me of Defaid’s death. I wept for my husband seasons dead, my friend newly departed, and the pain of a father and daughter that had lost so much.
Jethro would later tell me there was no way Zelda should have survived the operation either; that she should have died along with Julia. He has actually confessed to me that as the operation proceeded, there was a good chance that the opposite would happen… Julia living to morn a dead daughter. He, to the best of my knowledge, still has no idea how the girl lives. But I think I do. As Rauru has said, Hylian royal women possess a magic of their own… often untapped… and she DID name the child Zelda…
Zelda… born from death…
Zelda… an old Hylian word…
Zelda… Julia had named her daughter ‘Life’…
I smiled, helping Julia back into her chair. It was very early in the morning, and the poor girl had been sick yet again. The pregnancy was so very, very hard on Julia. It must be something about Hylian women; it seems so many of them suffer greatly.
“I cannot believe that I am expected to endure five more months of this,” she muttered, gesturing for me to sit next to her, “and in this forsaken palace… it’s always too hot, or too cold, and the servants hovering all over me aren’t really helping at all.”
“Well, I am indeed sorry,” I smiled, handing her a small cup of herbal tea.
“Oh, not YOU Impa… you’re too much of a friend to be a bother. It’s the poor extra serving staff Fiate detailed to me. I swear Impa, the man approaches everything like a war. Something goes wrong, just dispatch more troops to fix the problem. I can’t seem to shake the nausea, so send in an army of nurses and maids. I need to get out of here!”
I felt sorry for her. Of course, she was experiencing something I never had, and in all honesty likely never will, but it was easy to see the grind it was taking on her. It did not help that Fiate was away in the southeast. I glanced about the room for a blanket as Julia’s shivering increased. In a smaller room I could have adjusted the actual temperature to suit her needs, but all these palace rooms were large and hard to monitor. And perhaps that is why I offered.
“Julia, what if you came to live at my house during the rest of your pregnancy? It would probably be more comfortable for you, and best for your baby. I could arrange it all with the doctors, I even wager they will find it beneficial as well.”
“That would be lovely dear,” Julia smiled back, pulling the blanket I have given her closer, “but it’s not doctors who will be the hardest to convince…”
“Oh you leave Fiate to me,” I laughed, “we both know he is not as strong willed as the general public thinks. All that I need to do is convince him that you will be safer at the house then here and he will fold.”
She smiled and nodded, and then grimaced again.
“Goddess! Impa, I think I am going to get sick again!”
*******
The bell tolls out three. Sighing, I look at the smaller clock that is on my desk, as though the Clock Guard might be wrong for once in his life. Its small hands indicate 3:04. No such luck… looks like another sleepless night for Mistress Impa.
Sighing again, I begin to pace the room. Growling irritability, I force myself to lie on the bed. What is wrong with me tonight? Gannondorf is here, but that has never kept me up before… it is not the princess; she is sleeping soundly in her room. I watched the coming and going today, and it seems as though Gannondorf only brought two attendants, neither of them Garo. The princess is in little to no danger tonight from what I can tell, but I still cannot shake the restless feeling. Sighing, I get up again, and return to my pacing.
Gannondorf arrived late yesterday during my lesson, and I instantly sought out what was going on. To my great vexation I found he was planning on being at the palace for a few weeks, that far from just showing up Fiate had invited him, and that for some reason Fiate had neglected to even TELL me any of this. I had actually shouted at him for a bit over it, spending his ensuing lecture in an obvious state of disgruntled anger. In retrospect, I should really thank the fates that Fiate and I are old friends, otherwise I would probably have wound up rotting in the basement of a Shadow Temple torture chamber about fifteen winters ago…
A light rap on my door draws my attention back to the room. Who is wanting to see me at this hour, and how did they know I was awake? It is a soft knock, fairly low on the door. It must be a younger person, probably Ainee.
“Come,” I call out, loud enough to be heard outside the door, but no further. The door creeks open and a slight, feminine, figure slips through, allowing the heavy wood to close behind her. It’s not Ainee though… unless she has found a way to grow out her hair nearly a foot and dye it yellow-blond in one night.
“Princess?” I am sure surprise must be clear in my voice.
“I needed to talk to you Impa… I hope I didn’t wake you?”
“No, no… I was up,” I reply, gesturing for her to come to the bed. She walks over and sits cross-legged on the bed, giving me a half smile as I sit down across from her. Sitting next to her, I am reminded of how much she resembles Julia. Her mother had the same hair, eyes, and pointed features, not to mention the fact that it seems as though Zelda will be sharing her slight stature. Even at twelve springs, I still tower over the princess and, unless she hits a sudden growth spurt with the next few, I imagine she will barely hit my shoulder. Perhaps it is the memories of Julia that are helping to put me at ease, or the late hour with no sleep, but for some reason I feel exceptionally warm and gentle; as though it would be perfectly natural to rap the princess up in a tight hug.
“I had another dream…” she whispers.
“Was it disturbing?” I ask, trying extra hard to let concern shine through my words and eyes. The princess almost looks shocked.
“Uh, well, not in some ways…” she is obviously thrown off balance by me. It is actually a little depressing to have someone surprised by an open show of caring, particularly Zelda.
“I was standing in my garden,” she goes on, “when an evil red light began to radiate out from Greudo Valley. A black cloud swept out after the light, gobbling up the entirety of Hyrule in a shroud. Then suddenly, a light from the Lost Wood shone out, piercing the darkness and cutting towards me.”
“Well, that does sound rather disturbing…” I mumble, glancing towards the door. As if Garo Ninja were really going to bust it open at that moment… Fate is rarely so manifest…
“That’s not the end though,” Zelda goes on, drawing my attention back to her, “running towards me down the path of light was a boy from the forest. He was a little taller then me, dressed like a Kohria, and there was a blue fairy with him. He ran up to me and gave me the Spiritual Stone from the forest. Then I sent him off to find the others. The whole time, the black cloud was growing and growing, spreading out over Hyrule, but everywhere the boy ran, there was light…” she looks up to me expectantly, “well, what does it mean, Impa?”
What does it mean? Since when I have been a sage?
“Well,” I begin, “from what I could say, it probably means that you and the forest boy will avert some disaster from sweeping Hyrule.”
“I thought that too!” At least she seems visibly relieved about this.
“I also think,” she goes on, lowering her voice as though someone might be listening, “that Gannondorf is the dark cloud from Greudo Valley… I know daddy trusts him, but I think he’s scary and mean… and I know you do to Impa, so don’t try to deny it!”
That is one thing the princess and I are sure to agree on.
“Well, what do you think?” she presses, leaning forward expectantly.
“I think you should get some sleep, princess,” I reply, standing, “we will both be able to think clearer on this in the morning…”
“Can I sleep with you?”
“What?” I am more surprised then incredulous.
“I wanna sleep in here with you…”
“Princess, you are twelve-”
“Impa!” she begs, eyes wide and starting to glisten, “pleeeeeeeeeeeeeese?”
Sighing resignedly, I pull back the covers on my bed and Zelda shoots up onto the hard mattress. I have never taken to palace finery… I slide into my spot next to her. The princess sighs contentedly, and burrows into me. Given that I normally sleep on my back, this more involves her grinding her head between my chin and shoulder and squeezing her arms around me as if I were some giant toy animal.
“You’re soft without your Shiekah leather on…” she whispers.
“Palace born weakness… before I came here I slept armored…” I mutter back.
“Night Impa,” she murmurs into my neck.
“Goodnight princess,” I intone.
“Don’t talk… sing my lullaby,” she commands, squeezing a little tighter to display her affection.
Smiling in the dark, I begin to gently stroke Zelda’s soft hair with my right hand that she has taken shelter under. Softly I begin to hum the lilting tune of the Royal Family’s traditional lullaby. After Zelda’s breath has become deeper and more rhythmic, I whisper out the words into her sleeping ear.
Princess dear,
Safe in here,
Let my love hold you tight.
Dreams come and go,
Like winds to and fro,
But love will stay through time…
Princess dear,
Have no fear,
My love will hold you tight…
*******
I am no doctor, nor have I spent a great deal of time helping women birth, but I knew something was wrong.
Julia had been in labor for many hours, and her moans of pain and protest seemed to be lessening only for lack of stamina to keep crying. The best three midwives in Hyrule were present, along with noted surgeon Jethro Skutulia, but they all seemed at a loss. The women were still trying to aid Julia when Jethro took me aside.
This was before the curse, and Jethro was a tallish man, who was slightly on the heavy side, balding with a well kept beard. Both skilled and rich beyond imagination, Fiate was one of the few men in all Hyrule who could afford such a doctor. Jethro is, to the best of my knowledge, a quarter Shiekah, and I have my suspicions that Shiekah magic bolsters his healing skills. However, the half-breed’s eyes were dark with worry as he spoke to me in hushed tones.
“Mistress Impa,” he began, casting a worried glance over his shoulder, “I no longer think it possible to save both the mother and the child. If this continues, they will both die. I strongly recommend that we finish the birth with a cesarean; in all likelihood the queen will die, but we might still save the babe…”
I remember wondering why he told me this, but the harsh reality was soon broke. Julia was a queen, her husband Fiate was the King of Imperial Hyrule. Jethro does not wish to make the decision to end such a person’s life; he’d rather cover himself by shuffling the choice onto me. The operation would place Julia in a position were her survival was highly unlikely, but to forgo it would also be highly dangerous. Perhaps ideally, Fiate himself would be forced to deal with this, but there is some old, silly, Hylian superstition that no male other then the surgeon should witness a woman give birth.
I was at a loss. What would Julia want?
“Mistress Impa… I need to know what to do…”
Something in me snapped that I do not think ever fully healed. My right arm shot out, fingers circling Jethro’s throat.
“YOU are the surgeon, figure it out! Save them both in whatever way possible, or you will have more deadly people to fear then Lord Fiate!”
“Yes, Mistress,” he gurgled through my iron grip. I released him, glaring hard.
“I think a cesarean is the most logical course of action for both of them,” he murmured bowing once, “but you may want to let Lord Fiate know the situation.”
An hour later, the piercing cry of an infant tasting air for the first time rang out. Fiate had joined me by that time, throwing aside tradition the moment he heard what was happening. There was odd splattering sound, and something like water dripping on the floor. And then Jethro emerged from behind the sheet that partitioned the room, clothes bloody. The glance he gave us before intently starting at his hands as he rubbed a towel over them told me everything; Julia was dead. Fiate must have seen it too… he gave a small cry and sank to his knees.
“Go to her Fiate,” Jethro advised, gesturing to the curtain, “she has lost too much blood, and does not have long…”
Fiate nearly bowled Jethro over as he darted through to his wife. Jethro looked wearily over to me with forlorn eyes. Greedy and somewhat of a rat, Jethro DID have compassion, even before his curse.
“I tried everything…” he murmured, more to himself then me I think, “potions, fresh fungi, Shiekah healing, even the dart arts to keep her soul sealed to the body… I was not strong enough…”
I left him muttering in the room and went to see Julia.
There was blood everywhere; on the walls, the floor, knives and other instruments scattered around… and not all of it was Hylian. I saw a headless chicken tossed into the corner, and shuddered. Apparently, Jethro HAD tried everything; dark arts included…
Fiate was kneeling near the head of the bed, grasping Julia’s hand and starting at her with tear filled eyes. The new baby was in his other arm, cradled against his chest. Julia’s face was a pale I have seen all too often. Not the pale of a scholar stuck in a basement, or even the pale of someone in the most immense pain, but the pale of someone drained… someone who no longer has anything left under the skin. A blanket covered her from the chest down, but the deep crimson stains still spreading in it gave me an indication of what she must look like beneath its folds.
“She’s beautiful, isn’t she Fiate…” her voice was a raspy whisper that I could barely hear at the foot of the bed, “just like we said she’d be…”
“Julia…” Fiate croaked out, tears starting to spill.
“I don’t want to call her after mother anymore… Let’s call her Zelda… I like that name… it’s so pretty…”
“Just like her,” Fiate managed between gulps of air, still trying to choke back his tears.
“Impa,” she smiled weakly over to me, “please… help Fiate look after Zelda… he’s barely more then a big kid himself… can’t have him raise her all by himself…”
I nodded, tears beginning to fill my eyes as well.
“I swear, Julia… nothing will ever happen to her…”
“You’re… so… over…. dramatic…” her breath was becoming shallow, and talking was obviously becoming impossible. I had been on many battle fields; I knew Julia was close to Death’s Door. Julia’s eyes closed, a peaceful smile touching her lips.
“Julia?” Fiate cried, leaning closer, “please, stay with me… we need you!”
“Love her twice, dear…” she whispered, eyes still closed, “once… once… for each of us….
“Julia!” Fiate cried again, grip tightening on her hand, “Please! Don’t leave me!”
“Shhhh, silly…. You’ll wake the baby….”
And then she was gone…
Fiate moaned, but held Zelda tight. Hunching slightly, he cradled the babe and hugged his departed wife. I was only able to stand there, arms limp at my sides, hands clinched into fists. I would not sleep that night, staying with Fiate next to Julia’s body for the whole vespers. We grieved by the bedside all night, taking turns cradling and feeding Zelda. At last, around the third bell, I began to weep. I cried as I had not since the Shiekah runner had told me of Defaid’s death. I wept for my husband seasons dead, my friend newly departed, and the pain of a father and daughter that had lost so much.
Jethro would later tell me there was no way Zelda should have survived the operation either; that she should have died along with Julia. He has actually confessed to me that as the operation proceeded, there was a good chance that the opposite would happen… Julia living to morn a dead daughter. He, to the best of my knowledge, still has no idea how the girl lives. But I think I do. As Rauru has said, Hylian royal women possess a magic of their own… often untapped… and she DID name the child Zelda…
Zelda… born from death…
Zelda… an old Hylian word…
Zelda… Julia had named her daughter ‘Life’…
posted by Czar at 10:38 AM
3 Comments:
Why is it that interesting people always die? Julia seems like she would have such a strength of character. The strength that Fiate should have...
Zelda born with the strength of her mother, combined with the training of Impa, became the leader...what did she get from her Father? Was it the wisdom of how to lead? But honestly Zelda was not a leader in that sense; she learned her leadership from Impa. So what did she learn from her Father?
Good writing - especially liked the end.
Fiate has a great deal of strength Sarah, wouldn't you say?
He raises a daughter without the help of a wife, and though he is often busy he never just religates the raising of her to a servent, but takes an active, if not somewhat overprotective, role in raising her. Even as Julia died, he did not take the weak rout and blame the helpless Zelda for her death.
The Gordons, Zora, and Hylian peoples see him as a strong and powerful leader, as witnessed by their staying loyal to his memory even after Gannondorf kills him and assends to the throne. I would say Zelda has the Nobility, Class, and a Charismic Personality of her father. In Seven Years, she cannot hide the fact that she has a nobility and class about her, even while living in a cave as Shiek. She effictive manages a team of personalities that might not have messed well without her guidance, and her persona caused her to become a well respected leader of the resistance. I would say all these traits are things she picked up from the time she spent with her father Lord Fiate.
I definitely see Fiate's strength - this isn't exactly his high point, but then again the love of his life just died. For him to be "well at least Zelda lived, let's move on" wouldn't be a very valient thing to say either. Only the weak can be shown strong because we know what they overcome to get there... if that makes sense...
Awesome section. Really loved all three parts. I have a hard time picturing Julia - I think it's because her name is anachronistic compared to the others, silly as that sounds, but I guess I have a less clear picture of her than Sarah does. She does seem wonderful and I see how she and Zelda are similar but... I dunno, Zelda is always so warrior-ish in my mind (demonstrated a few sections above with her wanting to dress up Shiekah all the time) and Julia seems not at all like that... her father's influence I suppose...
I also like Impa in the middle section here. It seems in a lot of good stories, a main character finally reaches something of a plateau of contentedness - there she is raising Zelda in the palace, and yes she has her bad memories of a sad past, but life is good right now. The perfect time for it all to go down the tubes. But it's set up so nicely, not at all fake feeling. Very sharp.
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