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It wasn’t particularly graceful as landings went.
Not that Link hadn’t tried for something better. But there wasn't anything he could do about the heat and pressure of his body slowly eroding the ice on the frozen leaf he’d ridden down the mountain, resulting in water that was just enough to make him slip and fall on his attempted dismount. Not the ideal way to discover that snow wasn’t as soft as it looked, to say the least.
Midna emerged from his shadow as he dusted himself off; he half-expected her to laugh at his pratfall, but instead she laid her hand on his shoulder and peered at him. “Hey, you okay?” Link opened his mouth to reply, but only chattering noises came out. She shook her head. “Never mind, let’s just get you inside. It’s not much farther. Be careful you don’t slip, yeah?” she added, altering her voice to sound like Ashei’s. It drew something resembling a laugh from him, and she grinned. “That’s the spirit. Come on.”
It still felt a mile away. Especially with the howling wind whipping at his clothes and hair and cutting straight down to his bones; for once he almost wished to be in his wolf form, where at least he had insulating fur. Before he could try to ask Midna to transform him, though, they reached the entrance and shoved themselves inside.
The gloomy foyer, with its shattered staircases and dust-laden suits of armor, wasn’t much warmer. But it was something, at least. Teeth still chattering like a squirrel in an Ordon tree, Link dripped his way towards where an ajar door beckoned. Light and heat spilled out, tantalizing his half-frozen form with promises of comfort.
Midna emerged again as he walked, darting from one side of him to the other. “Weird paintings,” she commented. “Think the yeti brought them here, or were they left by the old owners?”
“Can you picture him going into Castle Town and shopping at an art gallery?” Their eyes met, and they burst out laughing.
“Okay, you’ve got a point,” she managed once their laughter subsided. “Still, this place raises a lot of questions…”
Ones that weren’t likely to be answered, but Link held the thought back. She disappeared back into his shadow again anyway as he reached the door.
It opened with a mournful creak. Link nearly sagged to the floor as he passed the threshold, finding that what it’d tempted him with was real. A fire crackled in the massive fireplace, filling the richly furnished room with heat and light. Light that illuminated the portraits that stared down at him from the walls, landscapes and portraits alike. Just as he began to wonder again about the manor’s history and former occupants, he spotted the yeti.
This one was smaller than Yeto, but still bigger than Link. She glanced over as he walked in, and then turned her face back to the fire. Taking the hint, he proceeded past her to the door at the back of the room.
It was pleasantly warm here too; this time, though, the source of heat was the fire under the huge pot where Yeto stirred something. His eyes lit up as he spotted Link, and he beckoned him with one huge hand. “Ah! You here! Good! Come taste soup.”
Despite his better instincts Link climbed onto the boxes stacked next to the cauldron, eying the simmering broth. The appearance was fine, but the smell was bordering on overpowering, especially this close. The fish he’d grown up eating in Ordon were all mild, but Reekfish… Well, the name spoke for itself. Bracing himself, he pulled out a bottle and scooped up some soup, aware of Yeto’s beady eyes on him.
“You like?” Yeto asked as he gingerly sipped it.
“I… yeah…” Link stared down at the bottle. To his surprise, it was pretty good—the pungent odor gave way to a smooth stock with a more mellow flavor than the scent suggested it’d have. “It’s good.”
Yeto grunted. “Think it need something. But thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Anyway, about the—”
“Yeta tell you more,” he interrupted. “Talk to her while I cook.”
There didn’t seem to be a way to argue with that.
So he didn’t.
The door opens with a bang, startling Link out of his thoughts as he pores over a map of the surrounding areas. “Hey, Link!”
Turning, he sees Impa barging in, bearing a box in her arms. Zelda trails after her, absorbed in studying something on the slate; he silently marvels at her ability to keep herself from tripping on the raised door frame without even looking. It’s an impressive skill. “Yeah?”
“Got what you asked for.” Impa unceremoniously drops the small crate on the table, right on top of the map he’s been studying. “Hey, don’t give me that look,” she says as he frowns. “These are fortified pumpkins straight from Kakariko, they don’t bruise easily like your wimpy produce from other places.”
“They should still be treated with care.” He’s not going to be drawn into another debate about whether Kakariko or Hateno farms are superior. “But thanks, I appreciate it.”
“Yeah, any time.” Impa rolls her shoulders. “What’re these for, anyway? You trying out some new recipe? That’s one way to pass the time, I guess...” The army is camped out in Deya for now while they plan their next move against the forces of the Calamity; Impa, like many others, is clearly starting to get impatient with the downtime.
Not that he blames her. “More like an old one.” Link peers into the crate: two fortified pumpkins meet his eyes. As expected, they look pristine and perfect. “I found this ancient recipe in a book, and I thought it might be fun to try making it using—”
“Did I hear you right?” An all too familiar gleam in her eye, Zelda looks up. Figures that this would draw her attention at last. “An ancient recipe from a book? Which one?”
“Ah… well…” Link fidgets. “I can’t really remember, sorry… I think it might’ve been one in the castle, before… yeah.” He coughs. “I wrote down the ingredients, though, so I want to try to make it with what we have today. Things are so different from back then, you know?”
“Oh, you don’t have to tell me! ” Zelda sighs dreamily. “I would dearly love to have the chefs make dishes from back then, so if you remember which book it was, you must let me know. Do you remember what section you found it in?”
“Um…” Link’s mind races as he tries to picture the library. Without the Bokoblins and Guardians that’d been there on his last and most memorable visit. “I’m—I’m not sure…”
“Oh, but you must!” She frowns. “It’s so beautifully organized, I’ve never had trouble finding the research materials I needed… granted, I did not go looking for cookbooks, but there’s surely a dedicated section, if you could just recall…”
Panic rises. “I—I really don’t, sorry… it’s been a while…”
Her frown deepens. “Well, what was the title of the book? I could ask one of the staff about it when we reclaim the castle, it must still be in there. Please try, I really would—”
“Princess, don’t we need to go talk to Purah?” Impa cuts in. “Let’s not keep her waiting, she’ll never let me hear the end of it if we’re late.” Her eyes meet Link’s, and he nods. “Let’s just let him test his recipe, for all we know it might not even be good. Like some of those Yiga banana recipes.” She shudders. “Those can stay secret, as far as I’m concerned.”
“Don’t remind me!” Zelda grimaces at the memory. “Oh, very well, we’ll go. But Link, please try and recall the details for me!” she adds as they leave. “I really would appreciate it!”
Link makes noises to the affirmative, promising to write it down for her if it’s a success; only when they’re well out of earshot does he let his breath out.
That was too close.
Link hadn’t been in there long, but leaving the cozy parlor for the frigid rooms beyond was still a wrench. As he reluctantly shut the door, Midna reappeared. “I can’t believe you really drank that stuff… you’re even braver than I thought.”
“It tasted pretty good, actually.” Link dug out the bottle. “Honest. Try it, if you don’t believe me.”
“You want me to drink fish broth? By itself? ” Midna goggled at him. “Did you knock your brains loose when you fell on your butt back there?”
“Oh, come on.” Link waved it at her; she recoiled. “It’s better than it sounds, you should try it. Please?”
“Ugh, no! ” She rolled her eyes. “And don’t give me those puppy-dog eyes, that’s cheating! Did you learn to do that from being a wolf, or—”
“Shh!” Link’s head whipped around; he relaxed only when he saw no one there. “Keep your voice down! They’re not supposed to know about that, remember?”
“... right, sorry.” Midna flew back to the door and pressed her ear to it; after a moment she rejoined him. “Okay, I think you’re safe. But I’m still not trying fish broth. Maybe you can deal with that smell, but it’s too much for my delicate Twili sensibilities. So put that away, please. Now. ”
Link snorted—her sensibilities, as far as he could tell, were anything but delicate—but didn’t argue. He returned the bottle to his bag and the two proceeded onwards, following the map Yeta had given them.
Waiting inside the chest at the end of their little journey was a surprise, though: not the key they needed, but an Ordon pumpkin that smelled just like the ones in the patches back home. It was a faint scent, but still there, and Link froze as it hit him, transported for a few precious seconds back to an ordinary day spent caring for the goats at the ranch. Heading home at dusk for a filling meal, seeing and smelling those pumpkins on his way.
And then, just as quickly as it had come, the memory was gone. Frosty air masked the pumpkin’s aroma, and the bubble popped, leaving him back in the present. In a ruined mansion atop a snow-covered peak, not his lush green home. Shaking himself, Link retrieved the pumpkin from the chest. “Well, maybe Yeto can use this in his soup,” he said, adopting a neutral tone. “He did say it needed something…”
“I’m sure it does, but…” Midna flew in front of him. “You okay? You went a bit strange just now…”
“I’m fine.” Standing, Link turned and headed back the way they’d come. “Just startled, is all—wasn’t expecting a pumpkin instead of a key. Think Yeta got mixed up?”
“I mean, obviously, but…” She drifted along beside him. “Come on, what’s wrong? I saw that look… are you sure you’re fine?”
“Yes.” He kept his eyes on the map. “Let’s just go back and talk to Yeta again and hope she doesn’t send us after a carrot next.”
“Okay, okay.” She crossed her arms. “But you’re not off the hook, just so you know.”
Link sighed.
“Fish broth, pumpkin, and… cheese?” Mipha tilts her head. “I admit I am no expert on Hylian cuisine, but it sounds like an unusual combination.””
“It kinda is, yeah.” Link scratches the back of his head. “It doesn’t sound bad, though, or I wouldn’t be trying to make it, trust me. Not like that… thing Master Kohga served up last week.”
“The one with the bananas and meat and that sauce?” She shivers. “Please do not remind me, that was…” She falls silent. “I do not believe there are words strong enough to properly describe it,” she says after a moment of reflection.
“Let’s just not dwell on it.” Link shudders. “So, um… would you be willing to get the fish for me? You’re the best at catching them, so I figured I’d ask you…”
“Flatterer.” Amusement dances in her eyes. “Very well. Which ones do you need?”
“Hmm, well…” He brushes some of his bangs out of his eyes as he retraces his thought process. “A hearty salmon would be best, I think. The reekfish the yeti was using doesn’t exist anymore, as far as I know, but it looked a lot like a salmon, so they’re probably related.”
“That does make sense. But, you know…” Mipha taps her cheek with one finger. “Hearty salmon usually favor the waters of Tabantha… are you sure you would not be better off asking Revali?”
“Oh yeah, that sounds like a great idea.” He clears his throat. “ You need me to help you with your so-called food? How asinine! ”
“Oh, Link, don’t!” Mipha claps a hand over her mouth to stifle her giggles. “He might hear you!”
“Did it sound that much like him?” When she nods, he laughs. “Well, I’ve certainly heard him say stuff like that enough times. You’d think it physically pains him to be quiet, given how much he complains every time I fix something before battle. Really ruffled his feathers when Urbosa told him to suffer in silence if he thought it was that bad.”
“He certainly has driven his point into the ground, yes.” She rolls her eyes. “I do think it may all be mere bluster, however.”
“Well, I mean… I know it’s not a Rito thing, cause Teba likes my food just fine, but…” Link frowns. “What makes you think Revali is faking?”
“I suppose I should clarify that he may dislike it on some level,” Mipha amends. “Simply on principle. Cooking a good meal is, after all, something that requires not luck but carefully honed skill, and he cannot admit you have done that. After all, it would shatter his view that you achieved everything you have through fortune favoring you. Which he cannot abide—it would mean admitting he is wrong about you, and that there is a reason you are to face Ganon instead of him. So to avoid that he chooses, or pretends, to be repulsed by your cooking.”
“Huh.” Link blinks. “I… guess that makes sense. Kinda dumb, though.”
“I did not say it wasn’t, or that I condone it.” Mipha shakes her head. “Merely that I think I understand where it comes from. So you may have the satisfaction of knowing you annoy him in that way, I suppose,” she adds with a smirk.
“I just want the satisfaction of him shutting up for once,” Link mutters, prompting a melodic laugh from her. “Anyway, you’ll get the salmon?”
“It would be my pleasure.” She smiles. “Anything else?”
“No thanks.” He shakes his head. “I already got the goat cheese from Hateno, and Impa brought me some fortified pumpkins.” Link sighs. “Zelda was with her, and started questioning me about where I got the recipe.”
“Oh dear.” Mipha frowns. “What did you say?”
“I pretended not to remember where I’d read it, and Impa distracted her and got her to leave.” He sighs again. “I just… if she finds out I’ve been having these dreams about the previous heroes, she might decide I’m her new lab rat and drag me off to be examined by one of the researchers. Bad enough that so many people just see me as ‘the hero’ without adding to it, you know? I know she wouldn’t mean any harm, she just… gets carried away sometimes.”
“Like Purah does; little wonder Impa sympathizes.” Mipha squeezes his arm. “I too understand. Your secret is safe with me.”
Link smiles. “Thanks.”
Link collapsed to one knee, the sound lost in the din of the armored… thing he’d just fought clattering to the floor. The noise did nothing to help the ringing in his ears or the aches all over his body from when he hadn’t been fast enough, and he winced.
Well, at least it was over. With shaking fingers he pulled out the bottle of soup and uncorked it. It was surprisingly still warm, and slid down his throat in a comforting flow that warmed him from within and soothed much of his pain. Ordon pumpkins, it turned out, went well with reekfish broth. A combination he never would’ve thought of before today, but was grateful for all the same.
“You okay?” Midna darted around him like a dragonfly, inspecting him for damage. “That thing looked like it hit hard. ”
“It did, but I’m fine now.” There were a few twinges, sure, but something in the soup had mostly restored him. “The key’s in the next room, right? Let’s go.”
“Wait, no—argh!” Midna flew in front of his face, making him stumble slightly to avoid colliding with her. “You don’t have to rush around, okay? You push yourself too much sometimes and it’s hard to watch.”
“I’m fine, Midna.” Link cracked a smile, ignoring that his jaw was still sore. “Really. Let’s just get the mirror, that’s the most important thing.”
“No, it’s—I mean, it is important, but…” She blew a breath out. “Never mind…”
Link blinked, and then shrugged. “Uh… okay.”
True to Yeta’s word there was a chest there, but a wall of ice blocked it. The ball and chain left behind in the previous room, though heavy, turned out to be perfect for shattering it. Once the shards had settled, Link knelt and opened the lid.
And then stared blankly.
“Oh, for—” Midna huffed. “ Cheese? Seriously? Whatever sickness that girl’s got has really gone to her head! And who keeps cheese of all things out here like this anyway?”
“Yetis, I guess.” Link continued to stare. There was no mistaking the round shape, meant to mimic the horns of the goats whose milk had been transmuted by some mundane magic into delicious, tangy cheese. Memories clawed their way up again: scrambling fresh cucco eggs with this cheese on dewy spring mornings, baking it into bread on rainy days when the goats stayed in and there was nothing for him to do. Taking a midday break from work to eat a simple lunch of fresh cheese and bread and pickled vegetables. Countless sensory recollections threatened to overwhelm him; Link swallowed. “Well… I guess we should…”
“Hold it.” Midna crossed her arms and perched on the lid. “We’ll take this back to Yeto and get some answers from Yeta, but first we’re talking about this. What’s got you so gloomy when you see this stuff?”
“I…” Link held her gaze for a moment, and then let his own drop to the cheese ring. “This is… from Ordon. So was the pumpkin. So…”
“... Oh.” Midna slapped her forehead and sighed. “Of course… you’re homesick.”
“Kind of.” He took the cheese and carefully put it in his bag. “I don’t know if it’ll really be the same anymore when I get back, though.”
“It?” Midna raised an eyebrow. “Or you?”
“... Either.” Link sighed. “Both. It’s hard to explain.”
Midna laid her hands on his shoulder. “Try. I’m listening. But only for a little while, so talk fast.”
“Heh.” Link closed his eyes for a second as he turned the door handle. “Well… it’s like you said at the start of all this, I’m… how did you put it? Laboring in obscurity? I can’t tell them everything I’ve done and been through, or that I was the wolf they were so scared of that night. If I make it out of this, I’m going to be at a distance from them all that I wasn’t before. Is that really a home anymore?”
“Link… I…” Midna looked away as he met her eyes, biting her lip. “I’m… sorry about that…”
“Don’t be.” He shook his head. “I didn’t like hearing it then, I’ll admit, but it’s true. I would’ve realized it with or without you saying it. And I’m grateful for your help on this journey, so don’t go thinking I’m not. I wouldn’t have made it this far without you.”
“But it’s my fault you’re having to do any of this at all!” Her eyes flashed. “I dragged you into this, remember? It’s because of me that you’re going through everything you’ve been through, fighting and pushing yourself and putting yourself in danger. All because…” Her tiny shoulders slumped. “Because I couldn’t stop Zant… I failed and let down my own people, and endangered you and your world…”
“Hey, stop.” Link frowned. “That was Zant’s choice. And he had Ganondorf’s power backing him up, remember? All of this is their fault, and those sages too. Not yours. And we’re going to work together to fix things for both worlds. Then you can go home.” He nudged her. “You must be homesick too, right?”
“I…” Midna looked away again.
“Come on, admit it.” Another nudge. “You liked it so much when the twilight covered everything here, you think I didn’t see through that?”
“That was… that was horrible of me to say,” Midna whispered. “I’m sorry about that too.” She covered her face with her hands. “I miss my home, yes, but I didn’t think about how it felt for you to see your world like that, or about all the terrified innocents here.”
“Midna, don’t.” He stopped walking and gently pried her hands away from her quivering eyes. “You had every reason to hate and resent this world. You still do. I can’t hold it against you.”
“Why do you have to be like this?” Her voice quavered. “I thought I could just use you without remorse, you know. Get my revenge on Zant and save my world and not care about who helped me. But then you made it hard. Why do you have to… to…”
“To be your friend?” Link’s mouth quirked into a lopsided smile. “I don’t know. Just couldn’t help it, I guess. Sorry if that’s inconvenient for you.”
“... Smartass.” Midna laughed weakly, even as she wiped her eyes. “You know… it’s not too different for me.” She sighed. “I do want to go home, and I have to when we’re done, but… after my failure, after so many people died from what Zant did, turning them into those beasts we’ve had to kill… can it ever be the home it used to be?”
“I don’t know. Maybe, eventually. I hope so, for your sake.” Link shrugged. “But don’t forget, you can always come see me if it gets to be too much, and we can sneak away on a little adventure for old times’ sake if we want. Get our minds off everything.”
“... Yeah.” Midna closed her eyes. “Yeah, that sounds nice.”
Steam rises in languid curls from the orange soup; the process of cooking has transformed, as if by magic, disparate ingredients into a cohesive whole. The scent that permeates the air of the little kitchen is a new one to Link’s nose. New, and oddly inviting. The blend of fish and squash and cheese and warm spices somehow works, in a way he’d been afraid it wouldn’t. Closing his eyes, he inhales. “It’s done.”
“Oh, how wonderful!” Mipha peers into the soup pot. “I wonder how it will taste…”
“Good, hopefully.” He begins ladling it into a bowl. “The Hero of Twilight apparently thought it was superb, so let’s hope these ingredients are as good as the ones that yeti worked with.”
“Such an unusual chef.” Mipha takes her filled bowl and waits for Link to serve himself too; once he has they both sit. “Have you… had many dreams of that particular hero? I know you’ve told me about a few, but I cannot recall who you’ve seen most of.”
“Yeah. He…” Link pauses to eat a spoonful of soup; his eyes widen. “Oh wow, this is good.”
“Really? Then I will not wait any longer to try it.” Mipha blows delicately on her spoonful, and then lifts it to her lips. “Oh! You are right! How interesting, given the unusual combination of ingredients… but of course, you always find a way to make it work.”
Heat blossoms in his cheeks at the praise. “Thanks,” he mumbles before hastily eating some more. “Anyway, yeah… I’ve had a handful of dreams about him. There’s always…” He swirls the soup around, gathering his thoughts. “They’re sad,” he says at last. “Even when nothing bad is happening, there’s this feeling of sorrow, centered on his friend Midna. She… was really important to him.”
“Did…” Mipha draws a deep breath. “Did something happen to her?”
You mean like what almost happened to you? Link swallows the words along with his soup. “No… not exactly.” He shakes his head. “She didn’t die, she just… left. Went back to her world and shattered the mirror that was the passage between it and Hyrule.”
Mipha frowns. “She destroyed the only way for them to ever see each other again?”
“I don’t know.” He takes another spoonful. “There could’ve been another, I guess. He probably went looking for one so he could see her again.”
“Hmmm.” She glances down at her bowl, a thoughtful expression on her face. “Do you think he ever did?”
“I don’t know that either.” Some of Midna’s words in the latest dream drift back to him; had she known, then, what she would ultimately do? Hard to say. “If he did, I haven’t seen it.”
“Well…” Mipha reaches over and takes his free hand. “I, for one, hope they found each other again.”
“... So do I.”
It tasted exactly as he remembered.
Link closed his eyes, the bittersweet tang of memories spreading through him from his tongue and eventually taking up root behind his breastbone, right next to his aching heart. It twinged at him all through his solitary meal, making it easy to forget that anyone else was in the bar just beyond this small kitchen.
The spell didn’t break until Telma sauntered through the door, right as he finished eating. Seemingly oblivious to him, she took some meat off the grill and slapped it onto plates.. On her way back out, though, she paused.. “You get enough to eat, honey? There’s meat too, if you want it.”
“I’m fine, thanks.” Link took the now-empty bowl over to the sink. “You want me to clean up?”
“Oh no, don’t you worry about that.” She shook her head and laughed. “You just go talk to your friend, honey, and I’ll get all this washed up.”
“Thank you.”
The main part of the bar was lively tonight, but it was a quieter corner that Link made his way to. A single person sat at the table where he’d once met up with the Resistance, who waved as he approached. Link smiled and waved back at Shad, quickening his pace.
Maybe this time he’ll have a lead for me.