Mipha's Touch

I take a slow and hesitant step into the dining room. Father looks up from the paper and folds it up.

"You are late," he states in a low voice.

"I know. My apologies. I tried to call you but... You... didn't answer," as I speak I recognize the irony.

I take a seat at the table right as the maid brings out the food. Should I ask about the letter or wait for him to tell me about it?

"You smell like chlorine."

"I was at the pool, supporting a friend at a swim meet. I will go change."

"The food will be cold."

"It'll be fine, I will only be a second," I get up, eager to escape this room for even just a minute to catch my breath and calm my nerves upstairs but Father stops me.

"Sit down," he commands and I fall back into my seat. The air in here is thick and the tension even thicker.

"What did you want to discuss?" I ask, placing the napkin on my lap. Better ask now and get it over with.

"I just want to enjoy dinner with you."

My brows furrow but I lower my head to hide it.

"We only eat dinner together when you have news to share," I point out suspiciously. "This morning it sounded like there was something important you wanted to discuss."

"Let's eat first."

"So there is something you want to talk about."

"The chef made your favorite; macadamia crusted lamb with chili and macadamia sambal."

"That is... not... I've never even heard of that." I poke the cubed meat with my fork. "Does it have to do with that letter?"

"Pardon?"

"Whatever it is you want to discuss, does it have to do with that letter?"

"Please, can we just dine as intended for the event of a dinner?"

"Fine. What would you like to talk about then?"

"How was the swim meet?"

"You want to know about the swim meet," my face shapes into an unintended mess of dubiety.

"I'm just trying to participate in the act of small talk," he justifies his question.

"Er... The meet was good. It wasn't very interesting but my friend appreciated my support."

"Who is that friend you continue to mention?"

"Mipha," I say, only to be polite. I would prefer it if he didn't know who my friends are. I already feel like he's spying on me without him knowing who my friends are.

"Oh, I know her. An exceptionally bright young lady. She is only two years older than you and is already finishing her Bachelor's. Apparently she scored a 528 at her MCAT and, among many other great schools, was accepted to Hyrule Medical School and Zora Medical, the two best schools of medicine in the country. I am optimistic she will choose our school for her doctorate."

My fork hits the plate and scratches the porcelain in an awful squeak. With so much rage flowing into my hand I believe the silver will start to bend if I squeeze the fork any harder. Is he messing with me? He can praise any student but when it comes to his own daughter the only adjectives that come to mind are synonyms of disappointing. The same happened when he talked about Link. Neither him nor Mipha are a politics major, why does Father hold them in such high regards? What about me repels him so much?

"I'm full," I push the plate aside having eaten no more than two bites.

"So soon? Did you eat out? You knew we were going to have dinner together," he takes a sip from his wine as he looks down upon me.

"No, I did not eat out. All I've eaten today was a banana, I simply lost my appetite," I roll my eyes when I think he isn't looking.

His glass hits the table in a harsh thump, staining the white tablecloth with red splatters. I flinch and shrink under his fierce glower.

"I've been putting up with your insolent behavior for long enough, Zelda. I will not tolerate the tone of your voice or your incivility any longer."

"What do you expect? You treat me like a child, no, like a dog really," I cross my arms and clench my jaw.

"This is unheard of. What has gotten into you lately? Are you in some sort of rebellious phase? Is this due to Impa?"

"You keep her out of this," I warn, clawing the cushion of the chair.

"Well, it must stem from somewhere. I did not raise you to behave like this."

"I regret to inform you but I can't always live up to your expectations."

"Dinner is over," he drops his napkin on his plate. "Don't be surprised that people treat you like a child when you behave like one. Go to your room."

"Right. Because locking me up will solve all our problems," I say as I get up. "Communication and affection? Overrated and outdated."

"I am trying to have a nice dinner with you but you are in no condition to have a sophisticated conversation."

"No, I know. I'm the issue," I raise my hands in surrender. "I'm sure that letter was going to magically inoculate me against whatever parasite has turned me into this futile abomination of a daughter. What was it anyway? A form to disinherit me? Or perhaps a legally binding contract to finally make your rules official? Now that dinner is over you can tell me, go on. Oh wait, is this a celebration dinner? Did you find out that I'm not your biological daughter?"

His jaw drops to the floor. I am just as shocked by my own words as he and the maid behind him who quickly turned around to escape the room. My mind is catching up with leaden steps as my hands covers my mouth. I know I've taken it too far.

We fall into a void of silence. When did my body start to tremble like this? Where has the air gone?

Guilt dresses my face and I am hesitant to look at the scorning man on the other side of the table. His eyes dart from his plate to the window to my feet and back to his plat. When they finally find me they are glossy. He is looking up to me as I stand looking down at him. I feel... empowered. And for the first time in my life he doesn't look so tall anymore. It seems the anger has vanished from his face, leaving his features to the gloom that consumes him. It is painful just to look at him.

"It's a letter from your mother," he answers slowly, hurt clear in his voice.

"Huh?" Is the only sound that comes out of my burning throat. He hasn't mentioned Mother in... I don't think he has ever mentioned her since her passing.

"What... What do you mean?" I grab a hold of the chair to steady myself. I am at the verge of collapsing, I can feel the loss of balance that came with his words.

"It's a letter your mother wrote before she departed."

"What does it say?"

"We are not doing this tonight. Go upstairs now."

"You can't just drop this bomb on me and tell me to go to my room."

"Actually, I can. I am your Father and you will listen to me."

"Please, I'm sorry. I will simmer, I'll listen, promise. What does the letter say?" I practically beg.

"Zelda--"

"Please! If it's from Mother I need to know what it says."

"Zel--"

"No, I'm sorry, I'll--"

His hand slams the table to silence me and every piece of tableware and ornament quivers and clinks. I jump and lose my voice in an instant.

"We will not have this conversation. Not until you get hold of yourself. Now go."

I can imagine that he doesn't want to see me right now. My eyes fill with tears but I force them to disappear as quickly as they came.

I puff and turn on my heels to leave the dining area. But instead of going upstairs, I grab my shoes, pull my keys out of my pocket, and leave through the front door. I can't breathe and the more I try to catch my breath, the more I feel like I'm suffocating. If he thinks I can just sit in my room and collect myself while he has some hidden letter from Mother, he's delusional. It's been 11 years since her death and suddenly he has something to share with me? I know I misbehaved, I know I said things I shouldn't have said, but the fact that he has a letter from Mother and spurns to share it with me just because I spoke my mind is immoral. It's emotional abuse.

The car feels like a microwave but even with all the windows rolled down I can't seem to shake the heat squashing my lungs. I blink rapidly to rid my eyes of the tears blurring the road. I don't understand... How am I supposed to believe that this man cares about me?

I search my pockets for my phone to call Impa, or Link, or anyone really, but my pockets are empty.

"Shit," I cuss to myself. My phone is in my bag, which the maid carried upstairs.

"Shit!" my palm batters the steering wheel and wipe a single tear from the corner of my eye. I refuse to cry over this. So what if he cares more about Mipha? So what if my grades are all he sees when he looks at me... Whatever.

I reach the main road, uncertain which way to go next. Impa is at the frat party with Revali and Prissen, probably intoxicated. Link won't be home, he never is during parties. Where would he go? Daruk's? If he isn't there I will have to talk to Daruk and I am really not in the mood to cry at the sushi bar again. I'm about to lose it. I need Link. I don't want to be alone right now.

I take a left. I'm way over the speed limit and try to slow down but before I know it I'm speeding again. With every mile of distance I put between myself and the house I feel my chest tightening more and more. I should go back right away, fix what's already broken. Running will only make things worse. I know that. The fear of this situation getting worse is the loudest thought in my mind, and yet I am incapable of turning the car around. I keep driving until I arrive on campus. I can't reach Link and Impa but there is one person I am certain is still here on campus.

My hands, my shoulders, my lips, everything seems to be shaking in an odd rhythm and no matter how much I focus my mind on keeping my body steady, it won't stop. My fingers and feet are completely numb, even when I clench my fists as hard as I can, I feel nothing. I have no control over my own body and with every step I fear that my legs will just collapse right here in the dim parking lot of the sports building. How am I back here? I don't even remember half the drive.

Mipha's voice echoes through the desolate, dark hallway.

The smell of chlorine fills my nose and a breeze of comfort reaches my senses.

"Almost done," her voice becomes clearer and the blue light of the pool is faintly shimmering on the walls of the hallway. Just as I am about to step into the open pool area I hear a second voice.

"Thanks," Link says and my first instinct is to hide. Against my will my feet pull me behind the corner, away from their presence and back into bitter solitary.

"I was thinking," Mipha's soft voice sounds with the mellow plashing of the water. "This reminds me of the first time we met."

My body wants to swallow but my mouth and throat are so dry it hurts.

"You were just a reckless child, getting yourself hurt at every turn. Every time I would heal you, just as I'm doing right now," she continues.

I peak around the corner. Link and Mipha are sitting at the edge of the pool, their legs dangling in the water. Their backs are facing me, so they can't see me. She has his forearm in her gentle hands as she wraps a bandage around a flesh wound. Ganon really did cut him. I totally forgot about that, I was going to bring it up at dinner but I never had the chance.

"I was... I was always willing to heal your wounds. Even back then."

I lean back against the wall and stare at the ceiling to steady my breaths. New knots twist my stomach with every word she utters. A sudden nausea takes over and I hate myself for it. They are just friends. They are just friends. They... They are just friends. I attempt to swallow again.

Why do they have to be here together, all alone, in the darkness, with nothing but the pool light in their presence? Why today? Why did Link give her his jacket, today? Why does he have to be hurt and why does it have to be her who is dealing with his wounds? The injury, the jacket, the pool light... This is an exact replica of our first kiss.

My quivering palms thrust against my cheekbones in hopes it will stop the tears from falling and cause enough physical pain to distract me from the ache in my chest. Why is this happening? On top of that horrible dinner...

My back slides down the wall until I hit the cold tiled floor. Without a sound, I bring my knees up to my chest and pray they won't notice that I am here, involuntarily hiding behind the wall. I don't want to be here, I don't want to eavesdrop. I would rather be with Impa at a frat party, frankly, I would rather be at the house with Father than to sit here in the dark, suppressing a sniffle. But my legs can't carry me anymore. I can't move.

"So... If Ganon comes back, what can we really do? Can we expect him to display morality at the game?" Mipha asks Link but he remains silent. "We don't know what we'll be up against. But know this; that no matter how difficult this battle might get... if you--if anyone ever tries to do you harm... Then I will heal you. No matter when or how bad the wound. I hope you know that I will always protect you."

My hand pressed against my mouth, I pinch my eyes closed and hold my breath.

"Once this whole thing is over, maybe things can go back to how they used to be when we were young. You know... Perhaps we could spend some time together."

I have to get out of here. The walls are closing in and with the water reflecting upon the ceiling I feel like I'm drowning. Link will have to tell Mipha about us right now. He has to. She is hoping to get closer to him when he is already spoken for. Not officially. But still, he's with me. And he is leading her on. Or is he? Why isn't he saying anything? It's too quiet and I'm scared to open my eyes and look over my shoulder again.

My fists connect with my thighs. Move, you useless legs! Get up!

With much strain I finally find the strength to rise to my feet again. I don't look back, even if I wanted to, I don't think I could. Mipha has everything I strive to have. And she is my friend, I like her, but she wakes every single one of my insecurities. Link is not my boyfriend. I am not allowed to feel hurt. He can give her his jacket, he can go to her for help, he can meet her at the pool late at night. He can do all that without bending his loyalty to me. I have no right to feel betrayed. And yet...

I understand what Impa was talking about when she said she wants to be happy for me. I can't control how I feel about Link and Mipha but I can choose how to react to it. I won't allow the anger to ruin my relationships. I've learned from my mistakes with Impa and refuse to repeat bad habits. I sit in my car for a good minute, taking some deep breaths. I came here because I had nowhere else to go. I wanted to talk to a friend and feel her company. Instead, I walked in on her asking out the boy I like so much. His silence hurt the most.

Driving to Urbosa's house has crossed my mind but if she finds out about my argument with Father she will want to talk to him. I can't involve her. I can't risk their friendship on my account. I exhale through my mouth and push the keys into ignition, ready to face what I've been dreading for months now. Whether I lose or win everything tonight, at least I will get rid of this constant uncertainty.

---

"You have returned," the maid seems even more surprised than I am. "Your Father was worried."

"Dubious. Did he even notice my absence?" I ask as she puts my shoes away for me.

"Unavoidably; you slammed the door quite hard when you left, Miss."

"My apologies," I murmur and leave the foyer.

Father is sitting in front of the fireplace, book in hand, enjoying his Saturday night. I clear my throat at the entrance to the living room and wait for him to put the book down.

"Have you come to continue your ebullition?" he asks doury.

"No. I am sorry for yelling."

"Have you calmed down?"

"I have."

He places his finger on the paragraph he just finished and aims his eyes at me. The air is sucked right out of my lungs as I wait for him to say something.

"Is that all?" he asks, closing his book after placing a bookmark in it.

"No. I..." I clutch my necklace. "I also wanted to say that I was in the wrong. I regret saying the things I said. I would apologize for each of them specifically but I don't want to repeat it. I didn't mean any of it."

I bite my lip. That's not what I panned to say. Of course there was a level of truth to my words but I expressed myself poorly. Once again I recognize Impa's words in my apology. Is my whole personality just a combination of the people close to me? Unfortunately it seems that I only represent their worst qualities.

"What I'm trying to say is... Lately I have been... struggling. I have been frustrated. But I had no right to attack you with my words. Or to disobey you."

"I appreciate your honesty. Are you done behaving like a child then?"

I bite my teeth together and force the words back down my throat.

"Yes, I'm done behaving like a child," I reply restrained.

"Good. Let's go to my study and handle this like adults then. We still have matters to discuss."

I nod at him with folded hands and follow him to his study. Like two businessmen we sit opposite; Father in his throne-like chair, and I in the smaller chair in front of his oversized desk, feeling small and powerless again. I only allow myself to feel weak for a short moment, then I straighten my back as much as possible, lift up my chin, and hope he doesn't hear my pulse hammering under my skin.