Pipit strolls though the grounds of the training yard, sword hacking away at a keese. He's bored, bored because this is routine by now and he's…

Well, he supposes he's pining. Because not so long ago he could expect his routine to be broken by a certain cadet. It had been something he looked forward to unconsciously, and now that it's gone he find himself missing it. That companionship he hadn't known he relied on as much as he did was suddenly gone and he was—

Floudering.

Link is gone. He's been in and out for a long time now, but Pipit is actually worried this time. He trusts Link, of course he does, but the weird feeling in his stomach is still fear and the images behind it are terrifying.

The fact is that Link is alone. Pipit hates Groose a bit, knowing he's down there but useless. What are those muscles for if they're not put to use? Right now, he'd be down there in a heartbeat. Down there exploring the surface, the wild untamed place that Link—usually quiet—shares with him in spiraling tales. He wants to help. He hates that he can't, that Link looks more and more worn every time they meet. Driven. Shouldering the burden.

Alone.

Link has always been alone. That distance is what drew him in at first. The space called out to be filled and Pipit had always been the nice guy. He hadn't expected to want to stay.

He now knows what Zelda saw in Link. He used to have a crush on her a few years ago. She was—is still—very beautiful. He can recognize it even now. Even after his affections had moved to Karane, he knew Zelda was the most beautiful girl in all of Skyloft.

But not the most beautiful person.

Damn green.

Pipit turns on his heel and sets off on his circuit in to town. He'll likely run into Mia, but since he can't permanently injure her, he'll welcome her as an outlet of his aggression.

It's very good he was too shy to tell Karane he liked her. Likes her. It's confusing, because he thought he would have been happy with her, though he could easily grow to love her. Confusing, because his feeling for her were completely overridden by the whirlwind of emotions that Link's mere absence stirred in him.

Link, he noticed a few years back, has the best smile. It doesn't come out often, but it's always genuine and bright. Pipit has been on a silent mission to make Link smile more for years. Of course, if would have to be the removal of Link himself for him to realize he may be more attached to those smiles—to everything Link—than he thought.

And he's also discovered his hate-love relationship with the color green.

Sure, the first time Link wore it he'd been impressed. Link did look good in the knight uniform. The thing was, he hadn't been looking at Link as much as the uniform. So, really, the uniform looked good on Link. But Pipit slowly began to realize that Link looked very, verygood in green.

Green brought out those deep blue eyes and complemented the blonde in the brown hair. Green drew attention to the flush of Link's cheeks, to the white of his smile.

If the uniform had been white, Pipit would had never had realized he was attracted—attracted!—to Link. Attracted in ways he knew most people would think strange. Sure, there were some loftwings that took romantic interest in the same gender. It wasn't common, but it was considered natural. Still, it was abnormal. Different. He had strived to be part of a community that would look at him askance if they knew he was interested in another man. In Link.

And his mother…

Uhg.

She would be displeased. He loved her, he did, she was just… a terrible housekeeper. And she would want grandchildren. And he had never liked the idea of children. But-

She depended on him. It was one reason he hadn't joined Link on the surface.

The other… was that Link had made him promise to protect the people of Skyloft. Like he was doing now, as his sword sliced through a blue chuchu, spraying blue slime everywhere.

He had asked Link where he had gone. If he could help. Something. Anything. It was a purely selfish desire to ease his own loneliness. But it had worked. Link and he had sat in Link's dorm and Link had exacted a promise from Pipit that no matter what Pipit would guard above while Link took care of below. He had agreed. He's not sure if he regrets it.

He's not sure what he should feel about the sprawling forests of Faron and it's timid Kikwi, or the lava infested Eldin province and the roguish Mogma, not to mention the desolate Lanayru desert and it's flourishing and robotic strew other time. What he does know how too feel about is the monsters. Pipit doesn't know if he's more afraid of the wildlife wearing Link down or the nightmarish creatures Link seems to face at the end of each dungeon or temple he so much as sets a foot in. He's appreciative of the chance to view Link's body, but the sword scars from the self proclaimed Demon King, the burns from a monster boulder, and the shoulder puncture-wound scar from a giant scorpion have him more than concerned.

He won't stop Link though. He can't. Not when Link's first friend, not to mention possible love interest, is in danger.

Not when it seems that the only thing stopping something that Link only could describe as "darkness, scales, and teeth" is Link and the sword he wields. Not when Link has that look in his eye.

And Pipit keeps thinking of these things—how pointless it is to fall in love with a man who could die any second, how he can't stop himself, how he doesn't want to hurt Zelda on the slim chance that his feelings are returned, how none of them may survive if Link fails—and over thinks them all again until down comes and he doesn't want to go home.

He's tired, he's sore, he is done with thinking and he knows Link won't mind. Being gone three days is certainly unusual for Link, so Pipit can always claim he was stealing Link's bed so he knows exactly when he's back, not that he likes the way Link smells and wants to avoid his mother.

He also ignores the voice in the back of his head that says that he's doing this because he does want to be the first person to know.

Then he's out like a light. Link finds him like that, curled up hugging Link's pillow with only his breeches on beneath the blanket. Link allows himself to smile fondly at the sight and undresses, slipping in to the bed behind the man who seems to be—finally—noticing him. Link can't help but think, as he drifts off into the slumber of the exhausted, the new scar of an axe blade travelling down his back, that if one good thing came from this fiasco, if there's one thing he'll treasure, that this—Pipit in all his understanding and kindness and warmth—this would be it.