Chapter Text
The forest was quiet, only a faint birdsong and the crushing of leaves beneath Epona’s hooves to be heard. The sun streamed faintly through the leaves just strong enough to warm Link’s back through the early morning chill. It’s unfair, he thought, to ruin someone’s day with news like this. To walk up to their door with the knock they’ve been dreading the whole war, the knock that leaves them fearing every person at the door. Uniforms starched, caps held to the soldiers’ breasts, a “My condolences for your loss” on their lips. Link gripped Epona’s reins tightly in his hand, the leather pressing a divot into his calloused hands.
Link continued on into the silent morning, heart beating faster the closer he drew to Private Lewis’s home. A home that would soon drown in the grief of a wife and new mother. Turning the corner, Link spotted the quaint, stone cottage. He drew in a single quavering breath, trying to steel his nerves.
After taking a moment to himself, Link hopped off of Epona’s back and tied her reins to a nearby fencepost. She was unlikely to run off, but it never hurt to be cautious. Link then headed to the front door, feet dragging. Walking up the front steps to the porch, he finally knocked on the door, hesitant and light. No response. He knocked again, this time with more force. He waited a few minutes this time. Still, no reply.
Link sat down on one of the porch deck chairs to wait, figuring Lewis’s wife was just out and about and would be back soon. Nevermind that there’s no town anywhere nearby for her to head to. Maybe she’s out foraging? It was unlikely with Mrs. Lewis being either heavily pregnant or having just given birth, but not totally impossible.
He had only just sat down when he heard what sounded like a cry from the interior of the home. He stood again quickly, heading over to the front door again. Knocking more forcefully this time, Link called out, “Hello, is anyone home? I have a message for this household from the Hyrulian army. It concerns Private Lewis.” After a few moments there was still no answer. And then there was that faint cry again, slightly louder this time. Link hesitated for a moment before announcing, “Hello? Is anyone there? I’m coming in.”
When Link turned the doorknob he was surprised to find it unlocked. With the war barely over and many people dead, thieves and brigands had turned to looting homes. Surely Mrs. Lewis would know that right? Had they been attacked? Injured? Murdered? Link shook such thoughts from his head. Most likely Mrs. Lewis had just stepped out for a walk and had simply forgotten to lock the door. Of course. Absolutely… Link decidedly ignored the coiling knot in his stomach and entered.
Upon entering, he was accosted by the thick, heavy smell of sickness. Link wrinkles his nose and briefly pulls his scarf over his lower face. Looking around, he spotted a bed in the corner. He walks up to the bed to see the silent, unmoving figure of a woman. Link hesitates, his hand hovering above her still form, unsure what to do. Eventually he moves his hand right under her nose, fearing the worst. No breath.
Link took in a shuddering breath. Like she never will again. Like Lewis never will again. You have the gall to call yourself a hero while you get others killed. You started this war. Their blood is on your hands. Every man, woman, and child would have the right to… Child… Oh by the three, the Lewis’s child! Link whipped his head around rapidly in a panic, heart pounding in his throat. With the blood rushing through his ears like a raging river, he almost missed the subtle cry from the bassinet against the wall.
The world seemed to still as he looked down into the bassinet to see a baby girl, no older than a month or two. She had wispy red hair and watery, cobalt blue eyes. The child stared up at him for a moment, oddly quiet, before screwing up her face for a piercing wail. Link panicked lightly for a moment before picking her up and trying to hush her. “No, no, no. Please don’t cry! What’cha need? Food? Diaper change?” Belatedly, Link realized that the answer was probably both. He made a move to set her down in the bassinet temporarily, just long enough to find supplies, only for her to start wailing louder. He chose to carry her around after that.
Holding the young girl to his side, Link checked the cupboards for spare diaper cloths. Finding some he quickly changed her, having gotten plenty of practice while helping watch the neighbors’ kids on occasion with his sisters when he was younger. Oh how he wished one of his older sisters were here. They’d have a much better idea of what to do…
“Well munchkin, now that we're done with that, let's go check and see if there’s anything for you to eat in the cold-box. Yeah?” Cow’s milk wouldn’t be ideal but it wasn’t as if the two of them had many options, did they? Link’s mind swirled as he acquired some milk and a rag. Twisting the rag into a point he dipped it into the milk. Holding the baby in his arms, he held the milk soaked rag against the baby’s mouth in an attempt to get her to suckle.
He and the baby sat in the kitchen for a while, Link just trying to get her to eat something. He sits the bowl and rag to the side for a moment with a long, weary sigh. “Please, kid. Please work with me,” Link begged. At this point, if she didn’t start eating soon he wasn’t sure if he could get her to the nearest town over. And who knows how long it had really been since the baby had last eaten? “One more try, okay? I really don’t know what I’ll do if you don’t make it. I’m already going to have to report one dead body.”
Link’s churned at the thought. He took in a steadying breath. One problem at a time. First things first, he would get the child to eat, then he could worry about the corpse in the main room of the home.
“Let’s try something new okay?” The little girl just gurgled at him in response and scrunched up her face as if agreeing. Link holds her up to his chest before trying the cloth again. One moment, then two, and then success. She was finally eating. Link let out a massive sigh of relief as a soft smile grew across his face. The kid would be okay, they would be okay. They’d made it past the first step, he had faith they both could get through the rest.