He's not used to the dark.

The Lost Woods was always lit with fairy glow and magic, the cut of moonlight and stars. The Temple with pools of liquid color splashed through story panes. Kakariko with embers and ashes, the Field with honey sunshine.

Even after waking, Hyrule had still been bright. Not a gentle light, and not ever a natural light, but even Ganondorf never sought to smother the land in darkness.

And maybe that was why the Shadow Temple unnerved him so—that it did something even a man more monster than mortal would not.

But he's used to the things the dark brings with it. Perhaps none so much so as the bright, reflective eyes staring at him out of the dark of the Shadow Temple. Like the Skull Children's, but bloodstained. And frigid.

Sheik has never looked at him so coldly. Not…before, anyway.

"I can see you."

He is rewarded with a blink, and the eyes disappear. Turn away and vanish into the dark. There is a rustle, the soft scrape of cloth against stone. Far more than he should have heard, if everything were alright.

"Come here." He tries again, pitching his voice lower to make himself sound more commanding.

Zelda had not exactly told him what Sheik was. But she'd evaded enough obvious topics to make it sort of clear. Maybe? If Link is assuming the correct things, anyway. But the bodies outside the Temple and the bloodstains across the warp pad had made it pretty clear, Link thinks.

"Get out." Sheik's voice is sharp and jagged, harsh like metal. It surprises him, but the sound of his voice comes from a closer place than the sound he'd made previously did, so Link knew he was doing the right thing. Maybe.

"I won't ask again." Shit, he thinks—he'd let his anxiety get the better of him and he hadn't sounded at all like a Commanding Person (channeling his inner Impa is more difficult than he had initially realized)—and he freezes, too caught up in his internal panic to try to fix it or—

There is a long pause and then a sigh and the sound of Sheik dragging himself forward, and Link is knocked onto his ass as Sheik leans into him.

There's a lot of wetness, when Link puts his arms around him. And cold. And when Link touches him, while Sheik tucks his head under Link's chin, a lot of hardness—bone, he realizes.

Sheik shivers at his touch, and Link shivers in turn—and not entirely because Sheik is cold as ice.

A few seconds more of investigation tells him that Sheik's legs no longer function and are not in the best condition. Probably because Sheik has been crawling, dragging them along after him.

Sheik presses his face against Link's throat, lets out a low hum, and completely derails Link's thoughts.

"You're warm."

"Are you…hungry?"

A hum and another nuzzle answer him. He takes that as a yes.

"The bodies are—I brought them with me."

"…That'll work."

Sheik pulls away, slightly—stops his cuddling, anyway—but a moment later loops his much less mangled arms around Link's neck and ties something around Link's eyes.

"I can—"

"There are some things best left unseen, Hero."

XXXX

He realizes Sheik is standing at the edge of the fire's light and jumps, scowling up at him. It earns him the barest flicker of a smile, and Sheik steps over to him settles at his side.

"…You're healed?" He asks, because Sheik is dressed in his usual attire, clean and spotless, not so much as a fleck of blood on his skin and hair bound neatly in his usual braid. As if it had never happened.

"Do you want to check?"

"I will if I have to."

Sheik gives him a long, sidelong look. Link just stares back, unyielding.

"…Yes."

"What happened?"

Sheik winces, dropping his attitude.

"You went after Zelda. Ganondorf sent his commanders to invade the Sacred Realm, kill the Sages. Didn't end so well for them, but they…did some damage in turn." He sounds angry. That doesn't surprise Link. Sheik has always been a perfectionist. After a moment he leans back, into Link. Though he isn't as close as he had been when he was injured.

"…Is that why you spend so much time in Kakariko? At the Shadow Temple?" He asks it hesitantly. He doesn't want to overstep—no, he just doesn't want to hurt Sheik. Upset him. Not right now, anyway.

Sheik presses his palms to his eyes, and Link hesitantly reaches up and puts his hand on his head, running his fingers through his hair—bangs, actually, because the rest of it is bound so tightly it doesn't move.

And Sheik presses into his hand, into his touch. He relaxes and lowers his hands, and after a moment or two speaks.

"You've heard of the Great Betrayal. We didn't exactly…my people didn't survive it. Some…I say I'm the last of the Sheikah. I am. Impa's not really one of us. She got to live—the Royal Family wanted a trophy. She was a child, and was never taught our ways. She picked up what she could here and there, but that's not enough."

Well, that is…not what Link had guessed. Mostly. Definitely not what he had expected to hear.

He doesn't know where to look. The fire seems like a safe bet, though, so he glues his eyes on the flames. Their brightness, dispelling the dark around them.

"….Did you die then?"

"…If you could call it that. Hyrule still needs its protectors, after all. We vowed our souls to that service, to the Three."

"So you're not the only one?"

Sheik lets out a huff of laughter, startling Link.

"I wasn't always. But you can't remain…yourself if you don't eat when you need to. The others couldn't stomach that. Ironic, considering we have fed the dead for centuries."

He blinks, looks down at Sheik, and finds his gaze caught by Sheik's own.

"You knew?"

"I knew Zelda was lying. At the Temple. She knew Ganondorf was watching. She wanted to protect you. Afterwards she kept…not talking about you right. I'd figured for a while that you were dead, or nearly dead. Because the Poes are never bothered by you and Redeads ignore you."

"Nearly dead?" Sheik asks, lips quirking up. Link feels heat rush to his face.

"Like the Skull Children. You—you act like them too, you know." Like an animal. Running when wounded, when hurt. Curling closer to him, in what he knows Sheik thinks is a discreet manner.

Sheik chuckles, but doesn't respond.

They remain like that for a long while, Sheik slowly getting more comfortable, gaze never leaving Link. Link doesn't mind—it's relaxing, rewarding to finally be able to just sit without one threat or another looming over his shoulder.

And it's even better to finally feel safe. Secure.

Because whenever the fire begins to die, Sheik feeds it without saying a word.