A/N: Okay this is my first Zelda fanfiction and only my second story so... keep that in mind while reading. I do encourage flames on my writing style, plot, etc. but not on silly things such as Sheik's gender or this being a gay story, because this story is a FANfiction. And it is obviously an AU.

Now, I'd like to thank my friend Mr. J for reading this (though not proof reading ;) and yelling at me to, and I quote, "Make moar!!" XD I really do appreciate people yelling at me to finish things, it gives me the incentive, ya know? *Disregard the Wakka/Raiken(or whatever his name is) catchphrase*

Anyway, this is an unusual story, even by my standards... it is rated MATURE for a reason though, so if you do not feel like you can deal with adult situations, thoughts, events, etc. please hit the 'back' button on your browser. Also, do not take this story at face value, I tried to sneak a few things in here and there for the attentive reader to find. The story IS set in first person from Sheik's point of view, unless I decide that there will be a change of view (of which I'll inform you of the switch) but I do not plan to have this story be a p.o.v flip-flop RP style fanfiction.

I'm sorry if Sheik seems OOC, but truthfully, you don't see much of him in the only game he's ever been in, he has maybe 20 minutes of screen time with his long speeches and taking the time to play the song and listen to him and Link rock out with their instruments of manliness. I've often seen Link and Sheik potrayed as damsels, and while I'll admit that I'm a sucker for a good fluffy Shink fic anyday, I do wonder where the warrior spirit goes sometimes... so, while Sheik can be calm and stonic, he is also a fighter, and I personally think he'd have a hell of a fiery spirit in battle.

DISCLAIMER: The characters in this story belong to Shigeru Miyamoto and Nintendo, not me, any characters that I have made up/inserted in the story are only minor and I don't care what you do with them. The plot and ideas used for this story's plotline were made by me. Don't sue me, please?? :'D

ENJOY~!

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Sanctuary in the Harem

Chapter 1: Wild Cat in the Cradle

I remember the first time I came to the sanctuary, at the time I had thought of it as any other outsider would... and should, because it was a hidden place of reprieve from the harsh outside world that had left many of the inhabitants of the grand estate scarred and in the process of being... well, 'healed' wouldn't quite fit considering none of the occupants of palace-like house would ever be the same as they were before the events that had possibly ruined their lives. No, they could never truly be 'healed' but after their stay in the sanctuary, whether it be a year or 20, they could move on from their pasts, learned from what had happened to them, to use this experience and take control of their life, to make it prosperous and to enjoy the destiny the Goddesses had given them.

Of course, at the time prior to my admittance, I had highly doubted the existence of said deities, since my life had utterly, irrevocably, without a doubt of my being... sucked. It was quite simple really, after all, there was quite the list of reasons why my mere mortal speck was accursed and any chances of a lovely life were squashed. Firstly, my race was that of the 'damned' Shadow Folk, the Sheikah, to add to this, I was male. The second point is that, by being a Sheikah male, I was doomed to genes that... effeminate men, in short, my looks were doomed to that of a woman, despite my efforts in training my body to the brink of exhaustion to gain muscle, the little I gained was compact, partially hidden under a thin layer of fat that softened my outline.

Thirdly, as a member of the forsaken race I had not the slightest idea of why we were 'forsaken' despite maybe our odd eye color, perhaps it made the wonderful, perfect, goddess-grown Hylians cower as they were the color of blood. After all, the little bit I did know about my culture was that it was both tribal (having apparently been an offshoot of the Gerudo race some millenniums ago) and that the Sheikah race were natural fighters, being a war-like society with strict social structures and codes, of course, not much of these codes, regulations and "perfect killing machines" were alive anymore, constant war having killed most of my abstracted brethren. I pitied them, having died in such a useless thing as war, war that I had nearly been killed in as well. This brings me to my fourth reason for my life being in the terrible state it was to warrant my sending to that asylum of a sanctuary, I was rare. And I was to be sold as a slave, either I was to be owned by some aristocratic prick Hylian who wanted to flaunt having a rare species as a servant, or a bodyguard, perhaps even a lowly field worker...... or owned by the less than pleasant wealthy criminals and thugs that ventured the dusty half old, half-new and under construction slave market... and normally these people went in with the mindset of buying a sex slave.

Of course I hoped that it would be the first, despite my general dislike of the Hylian race, I would rather be subjected to my pride being injured temporarily than to be defiled by the riffraff scumbags that littered the remnants of the old palace, which was now used as the grand hall for the more expensive slaves to be walked up the long path, which used to be carpeted in a grand red trail towards the dais, where the throne used to hold the king, the marble floors and walls sparkling in grays and whites. Now all that was left was the cracked and aged marble walls that were worthless, the marble floor tiles had been dug up long ago, even the tiny tiles of mosaics had been ransacked after the coup de' tat 100 years ago, the grout still remained though, a testament to what had once been. And currently I stood off to the left side of the grand hall, chained to the floor and in line with the other slaves of one particular slave seller who owned us, how I detested the man... I had often filled the gaps of nothingness with thoughts of killing him and escaping with the other slaves when we had neither work to do, nor errands, or 'training' as they called the skewed attempts to get misbehaving slaves to be obedient like hounds, some slaves even were trained in the arts of pleasuring rapists... it was disgusting to hear and watch, trying not to get involved and trying to ignore what was going on, to remain in the corner, hoping not to receive the same training.

I smirked internally of the memory of the 'man' off several feet to my left who had tried to tame my warrior spirit, to turn me into the dog of some aristocratic wench. The henchmen he had sent in to restrain me prior to the "lesson" as he had dubbed it, had to be helped limp out of the tent the slaves and me were kept in, one had his eyes gouged out by my nails that I had grown out and somewhat shaped/filed for that purpose, among others, he had also had his right knee knocked in, while the other had a broken nose, and a fractured pelvis (and a bent penis). The man would have whipped me had I not been a rare slave, and any harm to my body would lower my price substantially. Instead, others were raped and went through the 'lesson' while I was forced to watch, listen and "learn" to be a top of the line concubine. Those slaves had been sold shortly after, before I could apologize to them somehow, not that they would accept it... or could, the life which had barely been in their eyes to begin with had disappeared afterwards....

I sent a not-so-subtle glare at the man, imagining multiple ways of torturing him before killing him, my exposure to life in war giving me almost endless possibilities to entertain my mind in a sick fashion. Eventually though, I snapped out of my bloodlust, and vengeful thinking, focusing on the task at hand: the escape I had been planning for weeks. I watched that wretched man as his beady eyes flicked over the other sellers and the large swarm of people standing in the hall, eyes following the "competition" as slaves were walked up one by one to the dais to be displayed fully in front of the crowd. Most of the viewers were common folk, hoping to get to see the "well mannered" slaves that were dressed richly and ornately to be sold to the handfuls of nobles, thugs and rich slave-owners who sat separated from the rabble by thick velvet ropes and a solid line of personal bodyguards, most of which probably had been bought here. I continued looking lamely over the crowd my nose twitching slightly as I had the urge it scratch my cheek, unable to reach up with my hand because of my restraints.

Unlike the other slaves my will and fiery spirit had maintained during my enslavement, I could even go so far to say that I had even become more spirited after seeing lights fade one by one from the pairs of eyes around me, all shades of blues, purples, browns and even a couple greens. But I was the only one with red eyes that continued to spew life, and I'd be damned if I let these bastards or any bitch to take that inner fire from me, it had kept me going through the war, and it would keep me going as a waltzed out of this place and started a new, free life. Of course, the first step would to get out of the numerous bindings on me... I had a thick belt around my narrow hips it had multiple metal rings, two of which were interlinked with metal claps connected to thick silk ropes which bound my hands in a bent, uncomfortable binding to my sides, hands unable to move much in the rope handcuffs that didn't leave marks unlike their metal cousins. The metal lock which held the belt snugly against my hips was at the base of my back, which would make it even harder to undo... on either side of the lock were two metal rings which held a chain which connected to a padded collar that fit snugly around my neck, the opaque veil I wore to cover my face brushing over the soft leather, and a wondered momentarily how many slaves had worn it for it to be so broken in to not rub and leave a mark.

But the point of the collar connecting to the belt at the back seemed to be to keep me from leaning down to try and free my feet, as the chain had been adjusted to were it was short enough to make me have to arch backwards slightly to avoid chocking myself. The bindings around my feet were silk rope as well, to avoid chaffing when I was walked up to the dais I supposed. Another slave went up for auction, the previous one being sent to a room off to the side that had probably once been a guest room for some ambassador but was now a waiting room for the slave until the seller and buyer exchanged money and ownership, after which the slave would be taken away... I glanced to my left again to see that the group of high class slaves I was part of was soon to go on for auction as the beady eyed man started barking orders at his workers, who started to shift the line of slaves into position, the first one in line being unhitched from the rope chain that bound all our feet together. This one had no other bindings beside the ones on her feet; obviously she was a 'pet' type...

I sourly noted that I was the last in line, the supposed "crown jewel" of the group.... I was highly decorated, my hair which had been grown out as I had no instrument to cut the waist length hair with (not that that horrendous man that was watching me carefully would let me cut it, as it added to my "beauty") had been tied in a high knot on the back of my head, glass beads woven into my hair with little strings with tinier glass beads hanging from them to swing around when I turned my head. A small brooch had been pinned into the tanned leather string that held my long hair up, it felt heavy and annoyed me to no end as it felt they were dressing me up as a Gerudo woman... not to mention that the gauzy pants I wore were hardly made for escape as I both felt like a jester, swamped in fabric, and a whore because the pants were very drafty. Thankfully towards mid thigh the fabric lost its see-through qualities and covered me properly, though it stuck close to my skin leaving little to be imagined, the sheer amount of intricate embroidery both sickened me and pleased me in that once I busted out of this hell I would be set for a good time after selling the ridiculous clothing.... and shoes, I didn't even want to think about the pinch-y monstrosities that I would most likely kick off and run rather than deal with the aggravation the ornamented hell-derived accessory would deal during my escape.... which was coming closer and closer as each slave before me was walked up the dais and sold.

I relaxed my muscles as another slave was taken up and sold, systematically went through each step, how I would go about breaking free, dash through the right side exit/entrance, how I would have to charge quickly through the crowd, not stopping for anyone, to push as many people out of my way and to topple others to slow any and all pursuers, it was a 120 foot dash from the dais to the arch, I would have to be at my fastest so that extra guards could not be called. Hopefully I'd be able to slit that bastard's neck open before stealing out of here, to the harbor where I'd sneak aboard and stow away, it didn't matter where the boat went as long as it went somewhere.

I stared impassively ahead as the squat man waddled over, his robes dragging slightly behind him, obviously built for a taller, leaner male than he. I thought again over how a longed for the adrenaline to kick in, to give me the drive to kill as many of the rabble here on my exit to cause turmoil and cover my escape. The man was talking about my worth, how my "exotic beauty" was sure to charm the buyers into forking over big rupees, and how those buyers that had gathered seemed even more "interested" in my fiery nature, I mentally gagged as he briefly looked me up and down lecherously. He made a motion to touch me and quick as a whip a jump back away from him, snarling and glaring at him for all my worth as the two slaves next to me stumbled and fell over from the quick movement that had disturbed our foot bindings that were long enough to walk in but not enough to run in. I glanced over at the guards that the auction had provided in addition to the seller and buyers, they had swords, perfect. The man smirked again, having noticed that my action had cause some of the buyers near us to glance over to see the ruckus, the buyers in front of them turning around as well to see what they were looking at. My "owner" seemed highly pleased with this, and I suppose for this he didn't make a fuss over the two slaves to my left that had to be helped up. The one in the front was untethered before being escorted up the walk to the dais, one guard in front 3 paces, the other behind 3 paces. I shifted my shoulders, cracking them slightly at the uncomfortable backbend I was still bound in, waiting as the announcer garbled away in the Hylian tongue faster than I could translate in my head, Sheikah was after all my native language, I had only learned a bit of Hylian before I was drafted...

The garbling seemed to end with a shout of some large some of rupees, somewhere near 2 million or other. Money never held much value to me, if I needed food or water I went out and found it in nature, but here... in this kingdom money was everything, the life blood, of which I had none, and wanted for none, "Endless money forms the sinews of war" as the Sheikah saying goes.

As the slave next to me was unhitched I again systematically stilled and relaxed my body, ignoring everything around me except for the two sets of heavy boots as the bad their way to stand on either side of me, hands grabbing the chains that were connected to my collar and belt. I heard the beady-eyed slave owner warble something or other about "Treat the fragile merchandise carefully!" I had half a mid to just laugh in the man's face, I maybe effeminate, but fragile? No. Hell no. I couldn't help the smirk that twisted my mouth upwards, the veil covering most of it, obscuring the image of my face from the bridge of my nose down. A third guard approached with what was basically a leash and clamped it on to the collar, locking it into place with a key he had. A great clap echoed through the hall as the second to last slave was sold. Almost time...

The spokesperson at the front right of the dais started charting off what I assumed were my stats, such as weight, height, race, gender, age, etc. He also included details such as my lack of scars except for my tribal tattoos which marked my status in the nearly non-existent Sheikah society. He even included the locations of said markings, on my biceps, back, top of my thighs and around my navel. The feeling of disgust and nausea came roaring back as I could feel hundreds of eyes roaming over my form, only a few staying on my bare torso. My owner walked behind the guards that kept firm hands on the chains, the awkward situation making me have to walk with my chest pushed out slightly, by butt raised from the chains lifting the belt which was anchored to the lips of my pants. I dully remembered that they had to drug me in order to get me into the ornate clothing, and restraints, as well as to give the woman that came in to braid my hair time to work. I still retained some motor functions despite the toxin in my body, though I wasn't very coordinated. Most drugs did not work on me, giving that during my training I was given small amounts of numerous drugs over a long period of time, making myself immune to them, it came in handy given that the wretched man standing off to my right hadn't found that drug in time to basically rape me... instead the fact that I had not been broken in was added to the list of my good qualities.

The guards clapped hands on my shoulders as I was walked up the steps on the dais and then turned around to face the crowd, I kept my eyes trained on the center of the rabble, not making a move to alert the guards as the buyers along the walkway cried out prices, the more dignified buyers settling for a small nod, to which a servant would yell for his master. I settled myself again, my ankle joints and wrist joints loosed up just enough.... and then my body seized up, giving a loud gasp I fell sideways, unable to catch myself as I fell in a heap on the dais, head smacking soundly on the stone. Cursing slightly in my head, I again focused on relaxing my body, making it seem like I had fainted or had knocked myself unconscious. I heard the fat man behind me make indignant sounds about "This has never happened before!! It's your fault if his price goes down!!" he was roaring and making such a distraction to the guard, one which turned to restrain him while one of the other guards gripped the chains on my back, the third turning me to examine the head wound that was bleeding. I could hear them muttering nonchalantly, my head buzzing while I calmed it down, my mind readying for the quick signals I had to send to my body.

I snapped my eyes open, adrenaline kicking in as I threw my legs up and over my head, smirking as the flexible muscles of my back stretched past the restraints, knocking the two men crouching above me to the ground. I had managed to hit the one of my left behind the ear, upsetting his inner ear and balance as he staggered and fell down the steps of the dais. I kicked my shoes off as fast as I could, my right wrist popping out of place so I could wrench it out of the binding, popping it back into place as the second guard regained his composure, disappointing me when he only drew a small thin rod, to use as a club. He raised the small club, bringing it down in a diagonal sweep as he aimed to knock me unconscious, I waited for the last possible moment before bending out of the way, feet still planted firmly in place, unfortunately still bound. With a quick swipe of my fingers I slashed at his eyes, smirking in grim satisfaction as one started to bleed profusely, the man covered the eye with one hand as he staggered back, the singing of steel being pulled from a sheath alerted me as I twisted around and jumped backwards, my eyes drawn instantly to the blade of the third guard that had just missed my calf, but had instead sliced cleanly through the rope restraints around my ankles. Tucking and rolling I spun around, carrying the momentum in my right leg, already anticipating the second guard with the damaged eye that I ended up kicked halfway across the dais, rolling across the steps to join the unconscious first guard at the bottom.

In those few seconds shouts had raged across the hall as people either surged forward to get a better look at the Sheikah slave fighting off the armed guards or to run away from him.... me. The third guard again came at me and with my feet freed I easily sent a high kick to his jaw, either breaking it or displacing it, he dropped his sword as he yelled in pain, probably causing himself more pain in the process of yelling as I snatched the sword, decapitating him quickly before turning, to look at where my "owner" stood, quite possibly defecating on himself. While I had wanted to savor the moment of killing him, time was of the essence and I settle for disembowelment, relishing in the scream of pain and blood flowing from wound and mouth alike before whipping around as more guards were called. I swore under my breath, running across the platform and jumping smoothly down to the stone floor below, muttering to myself in my native tongue as I usually did when things turned nasty.

I left a trail of boddies and blood behind me as I sliced the collar and belt off of my form, tugging at the belt in frustration as it seemed co-joined to the pants I wore, I settled for hacking the metal links just above the sturdier ones connected to the belt. It was an odd position to be hacking at something behind my back while I eyed the guards yelling for reinforcements and watching them make their way towards me, drawing their swords as the second link finally gave way and the heavy collar and chains fell in pile on the ground. Three guards charged at me, swords drawn while 4 others started to spread out. I dispatched the three in front quickly enough, I was made to kill, and with the adrenaline in my system I felt invincible. Two more fell. 3 more. 5 more. 1 more. I hacked my way through the slave auction's hired guards, the spokesperson himself having fled as soon as the first guard had been sent tumbling down the stairs. The crowd screamed, all parties now surged backwards, cramming the exits and making it impossible for escape through the thick crowds whilst more soldiers were called.

Adrenaline kept pumping through my system, more and more, as I lost sense of myself, charging my way towards and through the crowd heading to the nearest exit, the crowd pushing away from me, making the columns of people ahead thicken, some people falling and being trampled to death by the panicked flock. The people I got close to and passed turned around and ran in the other direction, making it harder for my pursuers to follow as a path through the people in front of me realized that they could not get through the door and instead flung themselves in every which direction away from me. My bare feet pounded against the dull grey stone, the pads of them still hard from ears wearing the thin-soled stealth boots I had often traversed in during the wars 6 years ago... the memory of slinking through shadows with my small squad to terminate a target of opposing reinforcement troops, it had been storming and the group of thirty had been wearing long cloaks to shield them from the rain while they checked on the cannon's gunpowder and took rounds on watch. It had made them easier to kill as they hunched to keep water from their eyes and face, leaving their backs vulnerable. 34 fell easily, but the last one, the commander was no where to be found... as leader of my assassination squad, I had been punished for that failure... the memory still grated on my nerves for having lost track of the man in the slaughter of his men...

... and it seemed like my memories had come to life as I neared the exit, dispatching 4 more guards that were on my tail, spinning around quickly to continue on my way as the crowd parted, running for other exits. There, in the middle of my path to the door were two figures, one on the left was female, silver hair pulled in to a ponytail despite her young appearance, her red eyes bore into mine as my legs continued to move on auto-pilot, closing the 30 feet between me them. She was obviously Sheikah and a slave if the black collar around her neck was any indication, leaving the broad-shouldered figure standing next to her as her owner. I let a Sheikah war-cry tear through my throat as I charged the cloaked male, my conscious noting the cloak that was as familiar as my body tensed, ready for a brutal blood bath and the freeing of my brethren. I was a mere 3 feet away, and I changed my course abruptly, hoping to surprise the man and slit his throat from behind. Instead, with speed even greater than mine, he sidestepped behind me as I circled him, grabbing my arms and twisting them behind my back, one leg sweeping my own from beneath me, leaving my on my knees, disarmed (he had wrenched the sword out of my hands when he twisted my arms) and standing firmly with the toes of his boots on the pads of my upturned feet to keep me from running or trying to fight back. I struggled with his grip, growling sharply under breath while he just calmly kneeled, his shins pinning my calves, his cloaked torso pressed against my bare back as he muttered in my own native tongue, a slight Hylian accent tugging at the corners of the short phrase: "Obey and you'll be safe."

I hissed, I was angered at the damned Hylian dirtying my people's language by using it, and I started to struggle more against him while he gave a heavy sigh, the warm breath sliding quickly over the back of my bejeweled ears, making them twitch at the weird sensation. While I had been preoccupied with trying to escape and kill the man behind me, the few guards that were left had approached, swords still drawn and warily eyeing the vial and needle the Sheikah woman held in her hands.... which I had apparently missed in the struggle, and said needle which I assumed had been dipped in the liquid, was getting very, very close to my neck. I tensed up and tried to wiggle free any part of my body to break free and escape, unbelievably angered at the seeming betrayal of my own kin, I growled at her in our language, cursing her as the man behind me held my arms with one hand, the other coming around to curl around my chest. It felt like and iron bar was holding me in place while the woman quickly grabbed my neck in a vice grip, holding me still while the needle pierced my skin and seemed to embed itself through muscle and into bone. Whatever she had soaked it in kicked in fast as I could feel the adrenaline start to lose its power, I became more aware of my labored breathing and muscles that ached from lack of use over the year of my imprisonment. My breath hitched as I became aware of the pain that the adrenaline had blotted out, my sides were stitches, my hands and forearms trembled from hacking away guards, my calves and feet prickled from the lose of circulation that resulted from the man basically hog-tying me. Had my body really declined this much in barely over a year?

Apparently, as I lost control of my muscles, my extremities already feeling useless as the man stood, dragging me up with him and hands never breaking the grip he had on them. My concentration was fading as I blinked wearily, looking off to my right where the fleeing citizens had halted in the doorway barely 25 feet away to stare at the scene. My vision swam, the figures blurring into colors as I heard the woman's voice to my left speaking about my dead owner and the slave price. My hearing remained a little longer than my sight, my head lolling as my arms were released, instead, I was hefted up, I could feel the small dents and points of armor, and the muttering of gruff Hylian voices as I was carried over what I assumed was one of the guards shoulders, like a sack of potatoes. I heard the female's voice again, clear, crisp and authoritative as the feeling in all my arms and legs left me, my tongue feeling dry and too big for my mouth as my hearing started to wavering in and out, sounds intelligible and too slurred to make out as I was lifted and placed into something, it was at least padded and I curled on myself as much as possible as my hearing went out and my already dark world drifted into that of unconsciousness.

I'll take this moment of my unconscious state to say that I often did not get sleep often in the last year, for numerous reasons like the uncomfortable situation of being in a large group of people in a small room, the possibility of being drugged or tied up and violated while asleep, or the fact that the only fond memories I had were of my very young childhood, or those that I had concocted to fill in the blanks of my memory that my mind had just decided to white out. Regardless, the drugged induced sleep was dreamless and I merely floated along in nothingness, with out a care in the world, and not even aware of my state of health in the real world. It was warm, soft and safe, it felt like I was back in my mother's arms, only more intimate, if I had ever had one, then I could have said it was like being in the arms of a lover. Instead I just mulled over the self-created memories of my mother, after all, she had died giving birth to me, and the woman I imagined her as was probably better than the truth anyway.

And I was content to just stay like this forever, to not worry over my petty life if it weren't for this small tingling ring around the base of my neck, it was so annoying, back me toss and turn in discontent as I cold feel the subtle warmth fade to searing heat, muscles that I hadn't been aware of in the nothingness tensing as I felt the memory of what had happened, being sold out by a fellow general, being enslaved for a year, the long ship ride to the shoreline and over the mountain pass to end up in this country's capital for sale, to get so close to freedom only to be denied it in the last few feet... drugged by a member of my own race, carried off and.... and what?

My surroundings lightened as I stared at the back of my eyelids for a moment before blinking as I adjusted to the change in light, I was in a room, on a bed, it was dark, the curtains over the windows around the circular room closed securely, only a few slivers of gold light seeping in from the windows on the left side of the room.

I felt like I had been out drinking the whole night, my body stiff and sore, bile rising in my throat as I quickly examined myself, I had been changed into loose white garments and while I was glad that I was at least clothed, I still shifted about, sighing with a bit of satisfaction when no pain from my lower half traveled up my spine. It appeared that I had not been violated in that way at least... I had a few bruises here and there from my mad dash and fights with the guards, but surprisingly I had no marks around my wrists where the man had restrained me... I scoffed at the memory in my head as I refocused my thoughts, my pointed ears twitching as I glanced around my surroundings, sliding quietly out of the bed, listening for any sound as I shifted the curtain of a window aside to take in my surroundings... all my eyes met was sky and my stomach dropped as I realized I was in a tower of some sort as all the windows I glanced out of only gave me a view of the sun sinking down over the horizon and upon looking down, a 100 or more foot drop to the green grounds of a large estate. From the foot of the house (I was surprised it wasn't a castle considering the fact it had a tower or two connected to it....) leading to the first of two high fences was a narrow road that seemed to stretch through the grass plains before conjoining a bigger road off in the distance. I watched the movement below as servants milled about here and there, no set livery that I could spot from so high up, despite my good eyesight.

Sounds from below did drift up towards me as a small cloud of dust coming along the road caught my attention for a second as a rider on horseback approached the second gate to the estate, I watched as the rider dismounted, a large number of the figures below rushing to meet the figure as it walked inside the house, the horse was taken to a small building that was just between the entrance of the house and the tower I was being held in. I assumed the small building was the stables and a plan started to form in my head...

Turning back to look around the room, I searched for some entrance into the room to use as an exit as the curtains were too thick to rip without a sharp edge, the blankets on the bed wouldn't be long enough to get me to the ground even if I tied them all together. I glanced over the floor, looking for a trap door of some sort since the walls of the room were bare save for the windows. I spotted the small door just off center of the circular room's center point, trying to fit my nails into the thin space between the wooden floor and the trap door so I could pull it up, but found that my nails had been cut clean to the quick, dead flesh around the nail having been cut away. I huffed to myself as I sat behind the hinges that the door opened on, waiting for someone to come up, I'd quickly knock them out, garb their garments to perhaps disguise myself and see if I could ride out on one of the horses. I smirked as I pressed a tan ear to the floor listening carefully at the slapping of shoes on stone as someone climbed up the stairs to this room. My the light and quick steps, I assumed it was either a woman or a young boy, I sat back on my haunches, moving out of the way of the trap door lest it be thrown back and hit me in the face or toe. My thigh muscles tightened, the soreness that had been all over my body upon waking was starting to fade as I readied to spring on the person as bolts were unlocked.

"Don't ya even t'ink about it blondie!" the loud, heavily accented voice startled me slightly, since I had been the prime example of quite and laying-in-wait. But what had surprised me more than the woman's voice was that before she had even finished speaking, the trap door had been tossed open, a wooden pole snapping out of the hole, swinging sharply at my knees, I sprung from my crouched position, jumping over what I now identified as a spear giving the sharp blade lashed to the end of it. The woman stepped fully up into the room the spear twirled in her hand before she snapped it quickly to her side, the butt of the weapon thudding loudly on the wood paneling. She was obviously Gerudo, her red hair and narrowed amber eyes giving her away along with the traditional desert garb. She had a scowl on her lips as I remained crouched, slowly moving around her to find a weak point to take her weapon from her and knock her unconscious. "OI! Kid, give it a break, you ain't gettin' by me, be ya a Red 'yes or not."

Her slurred speech made it hard to discern what she was babbling about, but the term 'Red Eyes' seemed to imply my race, however childish and obvious a comment it was, and I smirked condescendingly at her grasp (or lack thereof) of linguistics. She glared sharply at me spear snapping towards me as I got to close to her it seems, as I had to back up quickly to avoid taking a blade to the jugular.

"Ya best be wiping that there smirk off your face pretty boy, 'lest I cut it off ya!" I pursed my lips and cleared the emotion off my face as I realized that I did not have any form of cowl or fabric to cover my face with. I continued pacing the semi circle around the woman testing to see how close I could get before the spear jerked in my direction, I was preparing to roll under her left arm, where there was a small gap in her jabs when the sound of another female calling up the tower alerted me to another set of feet climbing the stairs, they were lighter than the Gerudo woman's steps, and the voice was younger, lighter, that of a child... "Nabooru! You better be playing nicely with Mr. Sheikah! Impa will have a fit if you hurt him!"

I blinked owlishly as a girl bounded up the trap door with out so much of a glance to see if there was danger or not. She was... green to say the least, her clothes and even her hair wasthe wretched color. I'd half expected to have a pair of green eyes staring happily at me, instead I was met by a pair of curious aqua eyes staring at me innocently as the little girl examined my defensive stance, turning with a small huff to punch the Gerudo next to her for 'Being mean to Mister Sheikah'. My head spun as I was confused as ever as to why a small girl, no doubt one of the little forest children, was doing out of the protection of their isolated forest, on some slave owners estate, arguing with a Gerudo with the same mental age as her, while completely ignoring me, the supposed 'killing machine'. My pride took a major hit with her lack of fear as she turned on her heel, running up to start chatting to me animatedly about 'sleeping the whole day away in the dark, dusty tower'.

I stared at her, my emotionless mask practically splitting in half as the girl started pulling on my hand to take me somewhere, the girl's eyes twinkling into mine as in my crouched position we were almost on the same level of sight. The Gerudo she had addressed gave a heavy sigh as she mumbled in what I supposed was her own native tongue to herself, motioning with her spear, she stepped to the side, allowing me to be lead by a little girl down the stair case my mind was hyperconscious of the tanned woman behind me, and even more of the spear head that rested on my shoulder. The two women continued to chatter on and on down the tower and when we neared the bottom of the staircase I readied myself to grab the spear, ram it into the woman's unprotected gut and make a break for the stables. The green girl still held firmly onto my hand as she opened the wooden door with ease despite its appearance of being heavy. I took a step, muscles tensing, my hand reaching for the spear but it had already jerked away, its bottom half having swung to catch the inside of my right knee, the Gerudo woman expertly snapped the spear to hit my other knee out while a hand grabbed at my neck, and object being swiftly clamped around it as she laughed heartily, speaking to the small girl that had turned to stare at me sadly. "Told ya he'd try to 'reak and run Saria~!"

The woman, Nabooru, had clamped a collar around my neck, and by the sharp tug from behind I assumed it had a leash on it as well. Great, more chains and collars... I gave a growl, unable to properly turn and kick the woman or punch her in the small hallway of the staircase, her spear nudged me in the back again as she urged my forward, the little girl sighing, grabbing my hand again to lead me towards the main house while Nabooru trailed behind me, the end of the leash secured on a metal bracelet she had on one of her wrists. I thought darkly in my head as I was lead on, 'I've just become the bitch.'