The Letdown

Two

They both look worriedly at each other. I clutch my left arm, seeing the blood soak through my fingers but not quite registering the pain yet. "Guardians, active. Very hostile." The ends of my shirt are singed, but I'm still not sure if one shot me or not. 

I could've burned myself on the way here for all I know. The room is quiet, the only sound an endless cacophony of barely registering feelings. I feel hurt, hurt everywhere, a singeing pain ebbing at my body.

At least my mind is quiet.

"I'm sorry," I say quietly, "it's so late, and I come in here telling bad news, but it's so, so important."

Sidon looks at me with a sympathetic look.

I don't want his sympathy

I look away, not meeting his eyes. "I came to deliver, to warn. My task is finished." I turn to leave, but Sidon touches my shoulder gently.

My mind goes crazy with harmful thoughts.

What's he doing? He can't touch me

I shirk his hand off, but he steps in front of me. "Link, you're injured. You should tend to your wounds before you leave, no?" I let out a long breath through clenched teeth. That means meeting more people, have nurses and doctors poke and prod and touch me.

"No." I say curtly, making a move to leave again, but Sidon just stands there with a pointed look on his handsome face. I look down at my arm again, the dark blood dripping loudly onto the floor.

"No."

"Does seeing a doctor make you uncomfortable?" I nod a little, hoping he won't see. "Alright then. No doctors, I promise. I can help you."

I shut out all the cacophony in my head and swallow loudly. Yes. Yes, this is a compromise, and I don't want to burden him anymore than I already have today. I follow him out, bowing for the King.

"Sadly, it seems we only ever meet on diplomatic terms." Sidon says, and I'm immediately plagued by guilt. It's my fault. I'm always so busy with all of Zelda's little jobs and expeditions, always out and about, never spending time with anybody. The voices in my head do little to keep me company.

But I like it that way. Alone. Nobody has to worry about me. I'm not a burden.

Sidon opens the door to what I assume is his personal room, and I step in hesitantly.

Alone, alone, in this dark room with him. He could kill me in an instant, snap my neck with barely any force, and I'm alone here, in his room, alone, too alone, together—

"Link?" Sidon's gaze is curious. The door shut behind him. He walks over to an ornate dresser and takes out a roll of bandages and small scissors from a drawer, gesturing for me to sit on his bed. I oblige, rolling up my sleeve.

Touch

I sit there, still as a porcelain doll, as he tends to the deep cut on my arm. It's ugly and will definitely leave another scar amongst many others on my body. I try not to look, maybe distract my brain from the action right now, keep intrusive thoughts as bay for just a moment of peace.

Sidon snips the bandage and ties it tightly. He wrapped the white dressing in such a way that I could still bend my elbow, albeit quite awkwardly. I flex my arm to test the wrapping and he smiles at my astonishment. 

That smile scares me. Not the act itself, but what it means.

I move to get up, but Sidon gently pushes me back into a seating position. "You're hurt here, too." I have to fight every urge in my body not to get up and book it out of here when he gestures to my singed shirt.

"Hold up your shirt, please." His tone is somehow gentle yet firm—a skill I've never been able to develop. "It's alright."

Under any other circumstance, I would be gone. I gently touch the burnt hem of my shirt and debate whether this is a good idea or not. He'd see it. I focus on how much it hurts and pull up my loose shirt, feeling the fabric rub against my skin.

I only hear silence for a long while. I push out any bad thoughts and focus on the ornate paintings on the walls; paintings of sunsets, lakes, and the sky; paintings of people, mainly other races; paintings of the Zoran regalia that everyone seems to wear here.

I touch my own earring, today a blue one.

"Alright." at his word, I drop my shirt with a quiet sigh. I barely feel any bandages at all; they're so tightly wrapped around my chest that all I feel is compression. Sidon laughs as I run my hands down my front in astonishment: there's no seams! Nothing! Whenever I wrap my own wounds, the dressing is visible through my shirt and I get so many questions.

I get up to leave but stop when I reach the door. A small piece of me wants to stay. I have nothing to go to, I have nowhere to be for a long while. 

No

I open the door hesitantly, casting a glance behind me. Clearly that was a mistake, since our eyes meet again and he asks; "Link, would you like to stay? You're not in peak condition, and you sort of dropped a bomb on us without much context."

No leave get out while I still can

"I..." The words are stuck in my throat.

"Please stay."

I lean against the door, feeling like banging my head against the wall. Why? Why me, of all people? I'm just a burden on everybody, why does he want me to cause more trouble? I sigh loudly, closing my eyes. 

"Fine."