A bright full moon shone down through the thin clouds from the black sky, casting a soft light through the treetops and somewhat illuminating everything down to the forest floor. The thin creek that snaked between the trees flowed and gurgled pleasantly. A light summer breeze rustled the branches and leaves, swaying them back and forth with only the slightest of noise. The surroundings were still, save for a large dark figure against a tree, a brown horse lifting its head and pricking its ears to listen for any signs of danger, and when finding none in the silence, returned to its quiet grazing on the thick grass below.
The horse wasn't alone in the peaceful forest. Another figure sat on the bank of the creek, silhouetted against the full moon behind. Motionless at first, the figure finally stood silently. Clad in a dark green tunic over tight tan-colored pants, leather arm guards extending from the back of the hand to the elbow, and knee-high leather boots to match, the clean-shaven-faced figure removed a hat and sighed to himself. His thick and shaggy, though well kept and always split at the side, blond hair blew in the breeze as he turned to take a glance at his horse behind him.
No one knew how old he was, but everyone he met always agreed on a guess of about late teens. It wasn't as if he told anyone; he was too much of a loner for that. Though some people didn't recognize him on sight, and some even going so far as the fear him, he was commonly known as Link, the former wrangler from Hyrule. He traveled a lot, and a lot of people wondered where his destination was, if he had one. He seemed to be constantly moving for a purpose, but he had never stopped long enough to make friends and tell anyone why.
If they had heard about him, Link didn't know how someone couldn't recognize him at first glance. His strange clothes, deep blue eyes, pointed ears, and the fact that he was left-handed were distinct characteristics as well as dead giveaways. Most people in these parts weren't quite used to seeing someone from Hyrule, and that was one of the reasons he liked to travel by night in the woods. There was no telling how a person would react to him.
He was so close to being an expert on the forest as a person can come without being one, but he was a true horseman. Horses, aside from sword-fighting, was the only thing he seemed to be good at, and the profession had earned him a living more than once. It was not unusual for him to make a quick bond with a horse, but his mare Epona in particular had been with him for a long time now. He remembered her back in his home village, when he was no more than six years of age, and even then their bond had been strong.
Now Link reached for his sword and shield that had been leaning against a tree, and strapped them back to their rightful places on his back. The sword's sheath was heavy enough by itself, but the sword was nearly three times that weight and weighed him down from behind, but he was in the physical shape to carry it as he always did. Nearly his whole life had consisted of hard manual labor, and it would pay off in the long run.
Epona whinnied softly from her spot by the tree she was tied to. Link turned to move towards her, both of them ready to get back on the trail, but something caught his attentive ears and thus stopped him in mid-move. A far off noise of weeds rustling and sticks crunching, and Link stiffened in alarm. No one could ever be sure what they could face in deep forest, so he retrieved his sword from the sheath behind his head with his left hand, and rose to his full height and listened.
Epona seemed to be listening as well. She turned her head in the direction of the noise, whuffled slightly, and pointed her ears up in alarm. And after a few moments of silence, Link began to wonder if he had merely imagined the noise. But he refused to let his guard down; wild animals were thick in these type of woods, vicious mountain cats in particular.
Link's heart beat faster, but he was prepared to fight if anything came his way, without fear as he always did. He had learned in his first days of training with the sword that fear would amount to nothing but hurt or death, and a fighter must think with his head to survive.
Link held his breath and listened intently. The breeze was the only thing he could hear at the moment, except for Epona's small movements. And in the sudden blink of an eye, a whistling sounded through the air, and something whizzed by Link's head and embedded into a tree close by. He whirled quickly, just long enough to see what had almost hit him, and saw an arrow stuck in the tree. Suspecting he was being shot at, he made a grab for his shield with his right hand, and then something clasped his wrist and he was tackled from behind.
As he was knocked face first into the dirt, Link felt like a fool for not being sure of all his surroundings. In the split second that he had to think on his mistake, he figured that whatever was attacking him had worked with a partner, distracting him from in front and making its move from behind. How clever.
Another thing Link had learned was that no matter how far or how hard the fall, never drop your sword. And he hadn't. He twisted his wrist from the grip of the thing on his back, and reached backwards and grabbed whatever he could get first. Strangely, it felt like cloth. Working up every muscle in his arm, he gained enough momentum on the figure and threw them forward, freeing himself and leaping to his feet in a matter of seconds.
His attacker landed hard on the ground a few feet away, and Link was dumbfounded for a moment. He had not expected a person, but here was a young man weilding a long dagger and looking as if he knew how to use it. Link didn't have time to think about it though, for suddenly he was surrounded by a small army of about a dozen men, and they were not hesitating to attack him. Link brought up both arms and protected his face from the mighty blows that were raining down on him, and though unsure about why he was being attacked, his next instinct was to fight back, and that he did.
He threw a right-handed punch that landed square in the face of one the men, sending him blind and reeling backwards in the creek. One down, but there were eleven more to go. Link dodged an attempted tackle from the side, then one from the back, but there was no way he could be fast enough to dodge and evade for long. These men must be plain fools. They seemed not to have noticed the fact that he was weilding a three-and-a-half-foot sword in his left hand, and Link decided that it was time to use it. He was not one for murder at all, but it was all a different story when it came down to self defense.
One man succeeded with the aim of his tackle, but took a moment of surprise when Link did not go down. The latter took advantage of this pause and kicked the man in the stomach with all the strength he could muster. There was a slight break in the brawl for a moment, and movement beside Epona caught Link's eye. They were untying her, stealing her! A flame of anger flared up in Link, and he took off at a run through the army of men to protect his horse. Five of the men who had dared stand in his way met their unfortunate ends at the blade of Link's sword and went down where they stood. Link had always had a protective side to him; whether over people, possessions, or animals, it still burned strong in him. And this horse that he had taken so much time to bond with... he refused to see her be stolen by a pack of lowlife thieves.
Just as the two men by the horse were about to meet the same fate as did a few of their comrades, Link was hit from the right side by someone's shoulder and went down a little too hard in the dirt, landing painfully on his shoulder, letting out a grunt along with the breath that was knocked out of him, and unfortunately losing grip on his sword. It skidded across the ground and came to a rest in the creek.
"He's down!" one of the men cried out, and at least three men jumped on Link and wrestled his arms behind his back after quickly removing the shield.
"Bind him tight," another voice said. "We can't afford to lose grip on him."
Link felt knees digging hard into his back, and he struggled under the force of the men, but face-first on the ground was not a good position to fight back. A hand gripped the back of his neck and pushed his face farther into the dirt, and Link fought back silently, but in vain.
Chains as well as ropes were used to bind Link's wrists together, and after that was done, someone practically stood on his back to hold him down while his ankles were tied as well. Link felt an unnecessary kick in the ribs, and struggled to catch his breath again. There was still a lot of fight left in him, but with no way to move freely, it was pointless. He was bruised, bleeding, and as much as he hated to admit it, at the mercy of his attackers.
"Master Dorobis will be pleased," a young man with a British accent said. Link was hauled to his feet and violently turned to face the voice, which belonged to a tall man of about twenty, who had dark hair and a small beard. The taunting smirk on the face was enough to send Link into a rage. "Pleased indeed."
A panting man with red hair spoke up. "What shall we do now, Henry?"
The bearded young man, apparently Henry, lifted his chin in a jeering way. "Take him back home, of course." He looked over his shoulder at the men who held the fidgeting Epona. "Keep the horse. It'll serve a good purpose for Dorobis." Link's expression must have shown his angry protests, for Henry turned suddenly and punched Link in the stomach without mercy, then whispered as his captive was doubled over, "You'd better learn to shape up fast. You face Dorobis' scourge and I swear you won't be so haughty."
-O-
The journey back 'home', as Henry had referred to their destination, was a long and hard one for Link. He was bound wrist and ankle, being dragged from in front, pushed from behind. His ankles were not tied as tightly as his wrists, so he could walk enough to manage, though it was far from comfortable. Henry and another, older looking man, were the only two that were on horseback, and Link had been unfortunate enough to be tied at the wrists to Henry's saddle, and keeping up was almost as easy as an impossible task such as breathing underwater.
Link was led, or more honestly dragged, through the woods the rest of the night, Epona being led along at the back of the crowd of men,and Link finally came to a relieved stop along with Henry's horse at the first sight of daylight.
"Should we warn Dorobis of what we're bringing?" one man suggested.
"No," Henry replied. "He likes surprises, doesn't he?" He twisted in the saddle to turn and look at Link, who glared back. "Untie him," he said to the red-haired man, who obeyed cautiously, keeping his eyes on Link the whole time he released the boy. Henry said to Link, "Come, you."
Link did not move; he merely glared into Henry's eyes. A blow in the small of his back got him moving unwillingly. He had been abused the whole time he had been with his captives, and he had never felt so bruised in his life. But he had never really been one to vocally show pain, and he wasn't about to start now.
"Don't you speak English?" Henry barked accusingly.
"Perhaps he does not," the red-haired man said. "He looks Hylian."
Link thought about acting as if he did not understand, but thought better of it when he knew that he would just be beaten until he was forced to learn. He had felt like a total fool ever since he had been captured, and silently yelled at himself for being careless and not fighting back hard enough. If he could have kept his footing, if he could have just held on to his sword... but there was no use punishing himself for it now, it was too late. He just wouldn't let himself make the same mistake again. And as soon as he saw an opening to escape, he was gone- and all of the men knew it.
"Take him ahead to Dorobis; I'll be along after," Henry said.
As a few men grabbed Link by the arms, he just noticed a clearing ahead in the woods, and figured that he had reached his destination. And he was unsure if that was good or bad.
Once in the clearing, Link saw what looked like a stable to the left, a creek to the right, and a house made of wood up ahead. One of the men went to the door of the house and knocked loudly. A few seconds later, an older woman opened the door and looked up at the man; then her gaze went past him and fell on Link. She nodded and then closed the door.
Link's arms were aching from the pressure from the men's hands, and it hurt to move. Not like he could move anyway. Anything he did was punished with a punch, slap, or kick. Heart beating wildly at the uncertain fate, Link glanced around his surroundings. In any other situation he would have thought it was beautiful, but at the moment he didn't know what to think. These people could behead him for all he knew- torture him, Roman candle him, or worse. But Link refused to show fear or weakness, no matter what he felt. He had faced danager and death before, yet he was lucky enough to be here still.
A man came from the house and slammed the door shut behind him, and he looked around with a sharp look of authority. His gaze went past Link, and with his hands clasped behind his back, came forward to meet his men and what they had brought.
"Why did you bring him, Minhan?" the man said flatly.
One man stepped forward and bowed slightly at the sound of his name. "Sir Henry requested it after we laid eyes on the boy. We went through a great deal to bring him to you, Master Dorobis. I hope you are pleased."
Dorobis blantantly ignored Link and scanned his men. "I sent twelve of you out to hunt buck. I see only six now."
"Henry is on his way. The rest of the men... they are gone."
"Gone?"
"Their bodies lay back in the forest, sir," Minhan said with venom, glaring at Link.
"He killed them," Dorobis said, more telling than asking, and for the first time laid his eyes on Link. "I cannot lose my men to such a... boy." The words were meant to be insulting, but Link detected a note of admiration in the man's voice, and he looked away.
Dorobis continued to stare at Link. "Does he have a name?"
"We do not know," Minhan replied respectfully. "He has not uttered a word since we found him, not even in his own language."
"Well, I suppose I don't need him to talk, just to work. Follow after me." Dorobis headed slowly down the trail, and the men wrestled Link along after.
Two large trees of the same kind, height, and nearly an arm's span apart stood ominously at the left side of the trail, out of sight of the house, and Link immediately resisted when he saw what was in store for him. A wrist shackle on each tree made it clear what this spot was intended for, and in a metal barrel off to the side lay a burning hot brand. The men must have felt Link tense up, for they once again got rough with him and threw him mercilessly to the ground, and Link nearly choked at what he saw had just come up the trail.
It was nothing bad; far from it and quite the opposite, in fact. At first Link just saw the bottom of light colored skirts, and then his gaze traveled upward and met beauty as he had never imagined it. The girl standing in front of him was maybe a couple of years younger than himself, but the prettiness of her entire being took his breath away. Her face was heart-shaped and her hair was black, her eyes a dark brown; but that was just the basics of her beauty. Link couldn't think of any words to describe this girl, and he would have been less surprised if an angel had come down and stood in front of him. But that was what the girl might as well have been, for she was far prettier than any angel Link had ever imagined. Surely she wasn't just a servant girl.
The both of them were frozen in motion and seemed to be frozen in time as well. Their eyes met at the perfect moment, and suddenly Link felt ashamed. Bruised, dirty, and on his knees at the mercy of his captors, he wished he could dust himself off and give the girl a proper greeting. But enough was communicated with their eyes, and there were no words that needed to be said.
"Jennan," Dorobis said, and the girl looked up to meet the man's eyes. "Go in the house. This is nothing you need to be involved with."
Jennan took one last look at Link, who had not stopped staring at her, and continued on her way towards the house, looking over her shoulder until she disappeared around the curve of the trail behind the trees.
At the sight of her, Link had forgotten his current situation and still didn't think about it until he felt another kick in the side and was dragged over to the two trees. Two men on each side of him wrestled his wrists into the shackles and snapped them closed, leaving Link unable to do anything to fight back. And the men who had put him there were wise enough to leave his ankles bound- they all had seen what a fight he had put up back in the forest and knew that it would be no different here if he got the chance.
"Leave him there and come with me into my quarters," Dorobis said. "I want to speak to you about the loss of my men."
All of the men followed, and only one was slow to move. He stood glaring at Link for a few seconds before turning and following the rest of them.
Once alone, Link tried to relax and calm himself down, but he didn't know what was in store for him and didn't know how to react, besides fight. That was currently not an option, and for now there was nothing else to do but submit and wait for the right time to make his escape move.
He examined the shackles that held his wrists on each tree and strained hard in an attempt to somehow break free, but the steel held fast and the trees didn't even sway. He pushed all of his weight forward and braced himself against the ground, but the effort did nothing but hurt his aching muscles.
Link was tired and thirsty, but he refused to merely give in to any harsh treatment and ill intentions, and fight flared up in him again. He examined the contraption he was in once more, and came to the conclusion that even these two trees were planted at arm's span for a purpose; this was the spot for a slave to receive a whipping from a master.
If these people were trying to make him a slave, they would spend most of their time whipping him than working him. Link had once been called foolish for being so stubborn and headstrong, but he had been commended by someone important in his life as well. And besides, it was just a part of him that no whip or man could remove. He was tough, to put it at a minimum, and he was prepared to give his captors a very hard time if they tried to take their temporary authority to another level.
Link suddenly wondered what had happened to Epona, and he didn't know what he would do if anyone had harmed her. Not to say that Link was constantly in a fighting rage; none of these people had gotten to see the gentle side of him, and for good reason. Anyone with such tyranny in them could only expect a negative response from the one the harshness was directed at.
Link felt the vibration of hoofbeats in the ground before he heard them, and then a horse and rider came up the trail at a canter a few minutes later. He bristled when he saw who the rider was, and Henry reined his white stallion to a stop in the middle of the trail.
After a moment of exchanged glares, Henry dismounted and stroked his beard lightly, a smirk on his face. "I see you're no match to Dorobis' men without your weapons," he said, laughing sarcastically.
Link did not take his off of the young man as the latter slowly made his way over to the metal barrel and looked in. Link's fists clenched involuntarily as Henry reached in and retrieved the searing hot brand, his hands protected from the heat by thick leather gloves.
Henry examined the glowing red end of the brand, as if poking fun at Link with a silent laugh. Seemingly satisfied with what he saw, Henry turned and started his way over to Link with a smile on his face that showed he was going to enjoy what he was about to do.
"Come near me with that, and you'll be wishing you had a lot of help," Link warned gruffly.
Henry stopped in mid-step, either taken aback with Link's words, or just the fact that he had spoken in general. Link didn't know, but he was ready to defend himself if he had to fight like a wildcat. He had seen slaves branded in the past, and his heart had went out to them when they cried out in pain. He could only imagine what it felt like. And if there was one thing Link was not, it was a fool.
In this case, Henry was not a fool either. This pretty boy in front of him, though shackled helplessly between two trees, still somehow managed to intimidate with his words. Henry had seen five men go down under the boy's sword, and he was sure the blond Hylian's threat would be backed up in actions. The boy could probably do enough damage without a weapon, even tied and shackled. His expression, etched into a hard glare,was threatening in itself.
Not knowing what else to do, Henry said, "So you do speak English."
Link was silent again. He wouldn't have replied to that with the obvious answer even if he was speaking to this man.
Henry opened his mouth to speak, but a hard wind suddenly blew through and cut off his words. Link took the warm gust to his face,but he still did not take his glare off of Henry. His eyes alone told that he would not take the brand from anyone else either, and whoever came next to attempt the task would face the same threat Henry had and perhaps more.
"I do say, if you do not accept your place soon, Dorobis will whip you blind," Henry said, attempting to cover up his inability to put the brand to Link. Though he would never admit it, he was not brave enough. "I do not have time for such foolishness, and I have other things I need to tend to." Henry dropped the brand back into the metal barrel, turned his nose up at Link, and led his horse down the trail and into the stable.
Link relaxed his body in relief, and rested his weight on the shackles at his wrists. He looked down at the chains on his ankles and worked to get them off. Without the use of his hands, it was a harder thing than it had seemed, but he was determined to free himself at least somewhat, even if it was just in a small way. And after a little while of working at it, the chains released and draped over his boots, and he kicked them off and stretched his stiff legs painfully. He felt relieved to be finally alone, but time dragged on slowly until the sun set behind the trees, twilight came, and then the moon shone high in the sky. He was so numb that he couldn't feel much from the waist down, and his arms had lost feeling hours ago. He hadn't seen a living soul since Henry had left earlier in the day,and by the looks of the moon it seemed to be well past midnight now. Thirst was coming on strong, for the nourishing drink from the creek he had had the night before had long since worn off.
He stretched his neck and felt a small crack, and was surprised he could feel anything at all. He tried again to somehow muscle his way out of the shackles, but it was useless if he couldn't feel and therefore control his body properly. And without anything else to do, Link found himself daydreaming and remembering things froma few years past that were not so bad to remember.
-O-
Princess Zelda entwined her fingers with Link's and dangled her legs over the cold ledge of the window, Link doing the same beside her and keeping her steady with a gentle hand at the crook of her gloved arm. Zelda's dwelling was dark behind them, but the moon outside in the sky was bright and full, and it illuminated her face with a soft glow that made her even more beautiful. Her long, dirty-blonde hair swayed in the night breeze, and she leaned her head on Link's shoulder, sighing contentedly.
Her white and pink dress cascaded somewhat down the side of the castle wall, and she adjusted her golden tiara with her free hand. She had no fear of sitting on such a high wall, for she trusted Link to not let her fall, and she knew that every ounce of her trust was justifed.
-O-
Link must have at least dozed, for he woke up to the morning sun in his eyes and pain all throughout his stiff body. He was confused at where he was for a moment, but it quickly came back to him when he saw the two trees he was bound to, and he let out a small moan of discomfort.
Voices behind him caught his attention, and when he focused and listened, he recognized Henry's accent and Dorobis' deep and commanding voice conversing behind him. Link was cautious of some sort of attack from the back, and he practically contorted himself to look backwards and see what was going on, but no one was attacking him or even near him yet, for that matter. But just as that was confirmed, the two men came around to the front of Link and faced him head on.
"So," Dorobis began, looking Link square in the eye. "Have you had enough punishment yet? I imagine that you'll get your mind soon enough, and realize that it's not worth fighting us." When he was answered by silence, he spread his hands and grinned with a fake smile. "Oh come now, I know you understand me. It's not as if you don't speak English, you know."
Link was still tired and wanted to sleep, but he was afraid he would receive some sort of pain if he closed his eyes, so he kept a sharp eye on both the men at one time.
"We both must come to an understanding now, boy," Dorobis said. Link noticed for the first time the horse whip in the man's belt. "At the expense of my men, I must make it known that you should not consider yourself a free man from now on. To make it plain, you belong to me now."
Ah, he had thought so. Those were the words Link had only been waiting for. The fatigue of his body did not stop the anger within him. He continued to glare at the man and still refused to speak.
"Am I understood?" Dorobis demanded. Henry made a move toward Link, but the older man reached out and stopped him. "Don't be stubborn. Do you understand what I'm telling you?"
Link took in a silent breath, paused, and then spit hard in the man's face. Henry cried out in anger and made another move at Link, but Dorobis stopped him once again and dried off his face.
"Henry, he must learn from his master," the man said. He reached forward and practically tore off Link's tunic and the shirt underneath in one motion, threw them to the ground, and pulled the whip from his belt with a look of vengeance on his face. Henry backed up and smirked, knowing that Dorobis was an expert with the whip and never failed to show it when the moment called for it.
Link received his first whipping that day, ten cuts across the back of hisshoulders, and the blood that ran down his back was visual proof. He had taken the beating in silence, but it felt as if his back was nearly on fire. He had experienced harsh pain before, but this had a different edge to it. And as Henry unshackled him from the tree, the burning pain mixed with his weakened body. Link found himself feeling faint, and after a moment of swooning, passed out in the dirt.
