Rain
The mist of rain was relentless on the other side of the window, and the woman gave a worried sigh. If this continued her garden would be drowned. The crops further in the field would have no problems but her garden at the foot of Death Mountain had enough water from the streams that sluiced down its hide; soon it would be overwhelmed and the pumpkins she cared especially for would be ruined.
It had been raining then, too…
"Sheik?"
"Yes," She turned from the window and curtseyed, her mind still on her pumpkins, "Your Highness, shall I bring in the next man?"
The Princess smiled. "You're worried for your garden, aren't you."
A reluctant smile twitched her lips. "A little, Princess Zelda."
"You can return early, if you wish," Zelda offered kindly, "Your duties shouldn't involve trifling things like watching me court possible Kings."
"I beg your pardon, you're Highness," Sheik smiled back behind her cowl of white silk, "But I think making sure you're safe against possible assassins isn't quite as a trifle as you'd assume."
There was an ironic grin shared, with the knowledge of Zelda's power that lay in the holy triangle imbedded in her hand.
"Besides," Sheik shrugged her shoulders and glanced quickly at the rain, "The weather isn't so bad yet, and there is just one more man left."
Zelda gave a conceding nod. "And quick it shall be, for it is not a suitor but a friend that visits us now."
"Oh?" Sheik vaguely wondered which face she should be prepared for as she positioned herself beside the Princess's throne, wondering then whether the visible dagger at her hip would offend them or not.
The door was opened, and Zelda went to embrace him. "Gods! We haven't seen you in years! How've your travels been?"
Sheik was frozen still by a thousand dreadful thoughts and emotions, the most consoling of them was that this had to be a very bad dream and she would wake up soon.
The princess and the friend released each other, and they exchanged a few words that sounded right and wrong at once, and the gesture Zelda made at her looked like a motion for a death sentence. Her eye half met his before he lowered himself in a bow and she a curtsey, she heard his voice—his blessed voice—say something and words automatically came out to reply even though she hardly registered what he had said.
But a few minutes ended it; there was a chauffeur at the door announcing the guest room was ready, and if the guest would like to refresh himself? He spoke again, bowed to Zelda and with a cold nod of civility towards Sheik, walked off.
Sheik realised that she was gripping the side of the throne too hard. It was almost difficult to release it, her fingers were so stiff.
"Well," Sheik finally was able to say, "Surprise."
"He still loves his pumpkins," Zelda grinned, "I'm glad I won't have to change the menu on the last minute."
"Zelda," Sheik checked her voice. She mustn't sound desperate. "I'd like to go home, please. And don't persuade me into eating with you, I know you will, because I really want to go to my garden. It's the Wet Season, and the last thing I need is for my fruit and vegetables to drown, and my cuccos to freeze. May I?"
"Are you sure?" she gave the Sheikah a worried gaze, "I mean, you must want to catch up? You said yourself…"
"I know what I said, but catching up can be done fairly easily but saving ruined plants isn't quite as simple."
"Well, if you insist," Zelda's sigh was full of regret, but she gave the Wave of Dismissal. Sheik forced herself to walk, to calmly stalk out, until the doors were closed and she was fully in the rain. And there she stood, getting herself and the expensive blue gown soaked and muddied. With an effort she did not collapse. She sniffed.
She knew that six years at least had passed, but she still found herself astonished and saddened to see him again, altered, and her not being there for him through those alterations. His shoulders had broadened. His muscles were more prominent. His jaw had hardened, perhaps acquired new scars as well. His hair was longer. His nose had been broken and been moulded back to heal straight. He had stepped over the line of juvenile uncertainty and grown into a man. All these things she'd noticed in a second, a miniscule, tiny second, and she realised just how miserable and lonely she had been without him.
But it was over, Sheik told herself, in more ways than one. Go home. Tend to your precious pumpkins, which she had been so looking forward to feeding him, all those years ago.
She walked in the rain, not willing to risk her steed in the soppy weather. The rain was a cloak of dejection that pierced her heart, and not all of the water that rolled down her cheeks was cold.
""""""""""""""""""""""""""""
Sheik was strumming the harp as Impa burst into her drawing room, red eyes worried.
"Well?"
"Well what, Impa," Sheik muttered sullenly, "I'm not quite sure whether I understand."
"That… man," Impa hissed out, finding no other appropriate title to use, "Has returned and you are suggesting that you don't know?"
The blush was inevitable. Sheik turned her face away as she fiercely plucked a more complicated tune on the large instrument. "You mean Link."
"Have you seen him?"
Sheik turned her face back to her fiercely. "I'll have you know he is avoiding me, and I him. Now if you please, I have to learn this tune."
There was a pause, quiet and awkward, as Impa hesitantly stepped behind her best-friend's daughter, and placed a hand on her shoulder. Sheik drooped, tired and afraid of Link's cool formality and his unflinching notice of her. Didn't he care anymore, not even a little…?
"I stand by what I said then, Tasheikra,"
Tasheikra. When had anybody called her that last?
"I'm past twenty now, Impa." She plunked a string and sighed. "I think I can handle myself."
"… If you think so." There was hurt in her tone, and Sheik felt guilt for causing it.
"I don't… I don't regret following your advice, it's just…" Sheik muttered as apology, "I think I would've been happier if I'd…"
Impa's gentle hold on her shoulder became a little firmer before letting go. "You're still young; there are others out there."
She quietly left, and when the door closed Sheik couldn't remember the tune anymore. All she remembered were the words, the ones she had agonized over for so long.
Think, think on this please. He has only himself to recommend him, no hopes to gain affluence, and his profession—if you can call it that—can put you both into disaster if you choose to stick with him. He may have valour, he may have courage, but he doesn't have the necessary distinction to be a suitable match to you. He has flare, I grant you that, but that flare is cocky, proud, and rash! Kindness and attraction cannot last a lifetime, for Goddess's sake, you're only seventeen! Don't make a rash decision, heart, please, think this through…
How could she have fought her? Impa was the Shadow Sage, for peat's sake, her advice was supposed to be the best one available.
Sighing, Sheik stood from her chair, and stepped towards the mirror. She saw her customary fringe draped over her right eye, the tanned skin, and the colour of her iris. She unwrapped her cowl and touched her face, and couldn't help but be disappointed.
Instead of a girl of seventeen, soft and shy but outgoing, she saw a hard, cynical and introverted straggler of twenty-three years. Her hair had gone from a luscious light brunette from thin, waving sun-bleached hair, and her face had grown sharp, almost hostile. Many would say that it was a face prematurely destroyed by grief, and it did not help that her eyes had gained an almost animalistic glow, that others found to be wary of.
She was still pretty, even beautiful—how many times had Nabooru compare her with a gilded knife?—but it was not the kind of beauty that many would find attractive.
What would he see in her, if they were to properly meet again?
""""""""""""""""""""""""
It was obvious to anyone who knew him that Link had come back to court a possible wife. His adventures had taught him all he could wish to know of the world, his kindness and professions such as monster hunter, bodyguard, mercenary, bounty-monger, trainer and general helper had left him with a fortune, using which he had bought a modest but charming house in Kakariko. He had also gained a title, rightly earned by Zelda, and he seemed perfectly ready to settle down.
The notion that at least they might be acquaintances again, where they can casually spar each other, banter with words, tease each other mercilessly on the other's shortcomings in missions and battles died quickly. Link and a wife…
The thought made the world seem black.
"Sheik,"
"Yes Impa?" her almost-niece replied brightly. She should've left with the travelling circus. Then her acting skills would have gone to good use.
"Do you remember Ashei? She's come back from the mountains, and has informed me that she'd like you to join for tea. Will you come?"
"Of course," Sheik conceded, hoping to avoid looking at a Hero who was talking animatedly to a young brown-haired girl with a mischievous grin, "I'd love to."
Impa looked towards the Hero as Sheik quickly left the room, and gave him a scornful smile for chatting up a girl that was so obviously inferior to everything that was Sheik, that was her best-friend's daughter, that was everything that she could be prideful in.
Link looked at her with great dislike before continuing the discussion with the girl.
The friend Sheik greeted was a pale girl, and she had just engaged herself with a young man by the name of Shad Harville, a quiet scholar that enjoyed emotional poetry just as much as historical records. Sheik had thought the match a surprising one, for Ashei was secretive but obstinate, with bouts of enthusiasm and a lilt in her speech and manner that made her boyish, while Shad was a quiet thinker that could be the epitome of a gentleman (a source of scorn on Ashei's part), complete with a jewel or two tucked neatly into the folds of his cravat. But they seemed to love each other's company, so Sheik swore to herself that she would see it through, so Ashei, at least, won't have to suffer a premature heartbreak.
They talked of politics, they talked of current events. Ashei seemed surprised that Sheik wasn't asking for her usual gossips of Heroes abroad.
"I have new information, you know," she huffed mock-naturedly, "About your Hero in Green. I heard that he was in Hyrule."
"I'm sure he is," Sheik smiled wryly, "But right now I'm more interested in you. Am I invited to the wedding? How did you two meet up?"
Ashei was all smirks. "We were sharing the same caravan heading for Calatia, and he mentioned the Oocca. We got talking and then we met again at the Snowpeak Inn (I've told you of the armoury there haven't I? They have a library as well) and then he was kind enough to look after me when I got a cold after a spar we had in the snow. It just… happened."
Sheik couldn't help the worm of envy that nibbled her soul, watching the soft expression of love over a usually sullen and serious face. Had she looked like that six years before?
"I'm sure you'll be happy with him," Sheik sincerely commented, "He seems like the kind of person that stays true to his heart."
"Speaking of staying true to hearts," Ashei commented with a tone of someone who had just remembered something trivial, "There's this new man at court; apparently a friend of the princess herself, that's been travelling for a while. Have you heard of him?"
"Vaguely," This was not a lie. Not a lie at all.
Unbidden, the look he had given her at her words was forced into her mind, wiping out anything Ashei had to say.
Link, I know we've been engaged for over a month, but I… I want to withdraw my hand from yours. Impa persuaded me to see it in her view, and I've realised that an engagement between you and I could… is seen as improper, and… for Zelda's sake, as well as Impa's and yours… I can't let that happen. I love you, but I want to be certain that this would work, and I think we're both still too young. You're nineteen, nearly twenty, and I know that makes you an adult, but I'm not… I'm not of age yet. I'd like to wait.
She had only said that because she had thought only of him, of his freedom, of being careful and prudent. Rash decisions in the seven years that didn't happen had nearly cost her life, and possibly his. What was so wrong with being careful? Sheik would make Impa come around. He would wait for her, she was sure he would; she had loved him.
She loved him still.
""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""
The rain was lashing the ground outside, and Sheik wondered whether she should be glad or not for her predicament. She was out of the cold and wet, but she was stuck in dark, without water or food. Not to mention it seemed she had sprained her ankle.
It had been quite sad, the way she got there. A girl from Kakariko—the wide eyed innocent kind of girl that loved everybody and everything—had gone up the mountain at a jealous child's dare, and she had been gone far too long after dark. Of course, Sheik had gone off to look for the lovable Agitha. It was a treacherously slippery road at Death Mountain, so her family was frantic.
Sheik had found the cave further up the track, following the trail of Agitha's parasol being dragged in the ground. She investigated the cave, but having found no-one there, Sheik had proceeded to leave. Then the rocks, loose from the hold of the usually crusty and sturdy earth, fell, created a land slide, and had savagely trapped her there.
No Agitha. No way home. Sheik could not tell which was worse.
Cursing, she settled on the side wall, leaning against the rocks like an arm of a chair, her eyes slowly getting used to the dark. She could now tell that a keese was her only companion, and she was careful to be very, very silent and still in case it felt like making his territory known.
Sheik yawned and laid her arm across a mud covered rock and then placed her head against it, feeling the rain vibrating through all the disjointed but connected stones, whispering into her ear. She prepared to sleep, but the rocks were hardly comfortable; she was subjected to subconscious torture, as her distressed memories formed a particularly bitter farewell.
The rain spattered everywhere as Link gave one last determined tug at the saddlebag. He heard her yelling over the monsoon, his name, over and over, desperately. He turned angrily, so quickly that she stumbled to a shocked stop, and she was close, so close that she could see the hurt and the wounded trust in his expression.
His voice was controlled and livid. She had broken the engagement. She had broken the promise they had shared. So what if the others disapproved? So what if he was looked down on? Did it look like he cared? Had it looked like he had ever cared? He'd loved her! And she was letting him go because she was convinced, because she had been persuaded that they were being naughty little brats that didn't know what they felt?
If she thought they were going too fast, then fine. She could count him out. He'd already been screwed over, body and mind, he had given his heart over to her and now she was giving it back, trashed. He was leaving. He was not coming back, not for her. Ever. He turned and mounted his mare, kicking her into a trot, then gallop, through the stormy night.
Sheik did not sleep, but cried, and cried and cried.
Then Keese shrieked when the rocks in the rain knock-knock-ed.
…Eh?
Sheik groggily pulled herself up and listened. The rocks were unstable. She quickly moved back as the Keese dove away shrieking. So someone had come to save her.
Sheik waited in the dark as the rocks shifted and let in a flicker of a fire. Wait, in the rain…?
Oh. Oh no.
Sheik's breath hitched in her throat, as she realised that her face was not hidden. Quickly she got a knife and tore a piece of her clothing and wrapped it around her lower face, coughing at the dust in its weave, making her rescuer give out a call of concern.
She tied the knot just in time, as Link pulled at a rock and stepped in, a ball of fire dancing in his hand.
She had cut her hair since they last met, and instead of armour or a dress she wore a farmer girl's shift, with baggy earthy trousers and leather ankle boots that were falling apart. Her arms were bare (which humiliated her to no end), and lightly muscled, which was another unattractive black mark against her.
She must look like a bandit, was her mournful thought as his eyes widened at her sight.
"Sh-Sheik?" He was obviously flustered, and had not expected to find her of all places in a sealed cave. His hair glistened with beads of wetness, and he was wearing a cloak. Of course, a sword hilt stuck out behind his left shoulder.
"Hello," Sheik pulled at her temporary mask and hoped that it hid her well enough, for she was mortified, "What are you doing here?"
"I-I thought, there was this kid that got trapped here—that is, that was what I was told at Kakariko, how'd you, I mean, why,"
Sheik winced. Was it that unpleasant for him to talk to her? "I was looking for a child called Agitha. The tracks led here, and it started to rain. It caused a rockslide."
"If, that's the case," he commented hesitantly, stepping in and un-shouldering his pack to rummage through it, busily avoiding her gaze, "Agitha's safe. She'd come back when I got to Kakariko, but they were worrying about how you hadn't gotten back. She was screaming for onëchan, so I offered help."
Sheik gave him a suspicious eye. "You didn't even know who you were looking for, did you. Or where to find me."
"The girl told me where to go; wasn't that enough?"
Of course not, she wanted to say, would you have searched if you'd known it was me?
"Come on," he muttered as he pulled out a lantern, "The rain's lessoned, it's cold out there, and night's about to fall. We should leave before that happens."
He shifted his weight, and almost reluctantly offered her his hand. Sheik stared at it then looked down. "… I've… I think I've sprained my ankle."
"You've got to be kidding me."
"Was I ever the type to kid about any sort of injury, Link, really?" she snapped back angrily, and that shut him up. He sighed and sat down, putting the lantern to the ground and setting it alight with a snap of his fingers. Sheik bit her lip and looked away and despaired. There had been a time when all they could do was talk to each other with only goodwill, and if it were still the case he would be babbling all about his adventures, and she would be teasing him, asking questions, offering speculation and remarks that would make him scoff with mock indignation, end up with them tussling and wrestling, laughing and hugging, and her hair had would have been subjected to a rain of his loving kisses.
She missed them so much…
"Give me your foot," he sighed, pulling out a roll of cloth, "I'll see what I can do."
"My foot, Hero, is disgusting."
He looked at her, then away, and pulled out a bottle of blood-like liquid. "I just want to see whether I can heal the sprain."
Wincing, Sheik gently moved the injured appendage close to herself, fumbling with the shoe, cursing at the laces. Gods, it hurt…
"Give it here," he instructed, as something swamped her. Sheik jumped and found his cloak wrapped around her shoulders and arms, and it was still warm from his heat. She hoped to the gods that he was not seeing her blushing as he scooted over and took the lace from her shaking fingers. Sheik could not help but stare at the centre of his head, the point from which his hair radiated outward. His only comment was: "I can't believe you still hide your face…"
Link cleaned her foot with red potion, making her hiss at the pain, and then he cut the cloth into a bandage and tied it around her ankle. They didn't speak a word to each other through the process, and when Link began looking for kindling (it was fairly obvious they would have to spend the night in the cave) he did it quietly, and did not respond when Sheik muttered a word of gratitude. Perhaps he had not heard, but she doubted it.
He stoked up the fire, laid out provisions, placed his large mirror shield through the hole in the rocks to keep the rain at bay, and laid out a bedroll beside her. "You should sleep."
Sheik blinked. "What about you?"
"I'll keep watch."
"But-"
"Sleep, Sheik," he muttered, nudging at her head in the general direction of the pillow, which was in fact Link's pack. "Your ankle needs rest."
Their eyes met, and Sheik found herself complying with his request like a docile kitten, shying at his blue gaze, her face burning as she curled in the cloak that he had worn. She pulled the dusty cloth away from her face as she tucked her nose under the fabric, and after making the throb at her ankle die away, she closed her eyes, thinking that if Link was still being kind to her…
Maybe they could still be friends.
""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""
Weeks passed, and Agitha's family—The Skultullas—were hosting a party, and of course, Sheik was invited.
They were an interesting family to her, for they seemed to have sprung up from nowhere and had claimed the abandoned shack full of rats and dead spiders as their home, and though astonishingly rich, they were a modest, humble family that for reasons unknown had Sheik in high regards. Either way, Sheik was happy with the acquaintance.
When she entered, wearing her best pale gold cowl sewn with beads of dark amber and pale sapphires with her fitted desert hued dress, it was Giovanni that welcomed her in with open regards, thanking her for looking for his daughter and apologizing profusely for the injury that had inflicted her ankle, had everything been alright?
Sheik dutifully thanked him for his concern and told him sketchily how Link had carried her back after becoming impatient with her limping. Sheik kept the details of how he'd held her in a bridal lift so she would avoid an uncomfortable ride on his back with his equipment, how he'd commented that she needed to gain weight because she was so light, of how, when he thought she was asleep, he had hummed his favourite tune until she had truly fallen asleep and found herself at home, with a note from him and her face still respectfully covered, to herself.
"Well, that is good, very good." Giovanni nodded his plump head happily, with an accent that sounded extraordinarily Ancient Hylian, "I hope you enjoy yourself here, and maybe you'll meet him here again, we've invited him you know."
Sheik froze at the implication. Link, Link was here and she didn't know what to do and oh Nayru did she just see a green tun-?
"Good evening, my jewel," somebody purred, and it was definitely not Link.
Sheik turned and promptly scowled. "Zant."
He gave a flourishing bow. Whether he was deliberately being insufferably ridiculous was still debatable. "May I have the honour of the first dance?"
She knew he was giving himself the impression that he was courting her, but when he asked—and he was definitely going to ask—for her hand in marriage, with Impa's advice or no, she was going to refuse him, point blank. But it would be rude not to dance.
So Sheik danced with him for one or two songs, pretended attendance to his conversation until she excused herself for a drink. When she looked around the dance floor again Zant was wriggling around trying to impress a red-head that was obviously internally howling with mirth.
"When's the wedding?"
Sheik looked to the side and smiled at Rusl, a friendly guardsman from Castle Town. He knew full well that Zant was nothing more than an annoyance to her. "We're still deciding, what with invitations and all."
"Oh?" Rusl grinned, "Then why're you already wearing the face-cover, hm?"
"So you know about this?" she asked, pleasantly surprised as she fingered her cowl. Cowls were worn by Sheikah women when they specifically wanted to say they weren't available. Sheik had worn it since the day she had begun training as Zelda's guard, and had since then, never taken it off. "People usually just think that I'm nervous."
"Oh, you're far from nervous," Rusl laughed, and the conversation that followed was an interesting one. And compared to Zant, he (Rusl) had much better manners and looks. Well, perhaps not as good as Link.
When the conversation turned to Ashei and Shad's wedding her heart ached.
"I think Shad will be happy." Rusl was having a hard time grasping the idea of a bookworm ending up with such a rough-edged daughter of a Sergeant. "I mean, I can't imagine Ashei ever falling out of love of him."
Sheik was slightly affronted by the comment. "It's not in any woman's nature to fall out of love."
His smile was a challenge. "You claim that for every girl that lives? Or had lived?"
Sheik flushed, with confidence and with embarrassment. "Yes, I do. We don't forget men, or at least, as quickly as you forget us. If you ever get dumped you have some sort of pass-time or job to distract you. When we get dumped we wallow away the hours, sit and pine and hurt. At least the ones who deeply and truly care for somebody do. I swear," was Sheik's depreciating mutter, "There are far too many girls out there who think they're in love."
"Either way, your argument doesn't count," was Rusl's cheeky grin, "Ashei's always busy taking care of her father's affairs, and Shad, well, all he does is sit and pine about some poem or other."
Sheik cocked an eyebrow. "But if you still insist that Ashei wouldn't fall out of love despite her being busy, and since I insist that women don't forget, then I can only say that it's in men's nature to forget how to love their girls."
He smiled leniently at her triumphant glint in her eye. "You ever heard of the Body-soul theory? Power of the soul in relation to the body, so the stronger the body, the stronger the emotions. And since we as men, are stronger in body, we have the stronger, deeper feelings than you women."
"Then I say that men wouldn't be able to handle women's emotions, going by that theory." Sheik snidely poked Rusl in the middle of his chest, smirking. "You have plenty of physical struggles to contend with, leaving you rugged and tired and tough against hurt. Like our bodies, our emotions are softer, tender, and longer-living than yours. Men have the power to take it and heal and move on."
Sheik found that she had to swallow dryly before she could continue. Men moved on. Link moved on. "Women can't help but continue loving, even if there's no hope left."
There was a sneeze so loud and abrupt that Sheik looked over her shoulder and paled. Link was wiping his hand against his trousers, carefully avoiding her gaze. Oh gods, what had he heard?
"I'm not a reader," Rusl continued obliviously, "But I can give you lots of quotations on women's fickleness. Poems, plays, novels, you can hit me."
Sheik forced a smile as she carried on the conversation. "They were all written by men: that's hardly fair, is it?"
"Then how do we prove it?" He threw up his hands in mock despair, earning a chuckle from his red eyed companion.
In response, she shrugged. "Experience, I guess."
"In that case I win," he grinned, catching her hand in his to plant a soft kiss on her knuckles, "And maybe we can test these theories together, sometime?"
"Watch out; I think I can see Uli coming this way."
He stood to attention and quickly and politely excused himself to flirt with the girl he had had an eye on for the last year and a half. Sheik shook her head and looked for Giovanni, deciding that being tired and sleepy would be a good excuse to leave the party early, just this once…
Rusl came back looking sheepish. "I'd left my wallet," he said, picking it up from the table they'd been leaning on, "Oh, and some fellow said he had to go but he had a message for you or something. You have quite the following."
"Hush, you," Sheik waved him off as she accepted the letter from him, realising incredulously that she couldn't fathom who would want to give her a message out of the blue. If it had been Zelda, a soldier would have given it to her straight on…
Sheik, it said,
We need to talk, as soon as we can, because I can't stand being quiet any more.
I've been invited to the Crystal Ball, and I hope you'll be there too and maybe you could meet me then, but if you could give me a minute of your time just a minute I'll be waiting where we (he crossed something out) you gave me (crossed out again) by the flowers.
Link.
Sheik's heart fluttered with dread. What did he want? Why? More importantly, where? She wished he wasn't so bad at writing letters, just this once, and why had he scribbled at those sentences so much that she couldn't read what lay underneath?
Flowers. That was the best hint. But she had never given him any sort of flower, not once; it had always been him, the yellow tulips that she loved so much.
Unless…
Sheik quickly excused herself, apologizing profusely to Giovanni and Agitha before hurrying into the twilight, even if her mind was telling her that she was being stupid, he wouldn't be there, it must be some sort of sick joke, why would he make it so obscure…
Her heart led her past the graveyard, along the wall that bordered the Shadow Temple, looking for the niche in the cliff that she had found as a child, and had shared only with one other living soul. To get there she needed to climb a small track, and there would be a clearing…
There he was, sitting by the niche, surprise written all over his face as he looked at her in the orange light of the setting sun. Sheik touched her cowl nervously, thankfully still wrapped around her face.
"I…" he coughed and wiped his mouth, "I didn't expect you to be here so soon."
"Me neither." Gods, she wished she wasn't so nervous. Her hand twitched in the general direction of the niche. "And the letter said flowers. Shouldn't you be waiting in there?"
He stood, rubbing his neck, a sure sign that he was ill-at-ease, "I wasn't quite sure whether I had the right to be there…"
"How considerate of you."
He flinched at the blandness of her tone. He gathered himself, however, and continued rather bravely, "How… how have you been these years?"
"Could have been better, could have been worse. Killed any dragons?"
"No, just Moblins, some Wolfos… unless a giant snake counts as a dragon…"
"Ha," she commented, and could find nothing else to say that wasn't 'What do you want from me?' So she remained silent. After hoping for a more elaborate answer, Link also lapsed into a silence that wasn't quite comfortable and he kept looking at her, and she knew she would have to look away soon or do or say something that she would surely regret.
Before she could do either Link cleared his throat nervously and looked her in the eye. He stood straight, muscles tense, as if waiting for a physical blow. With forced promptness he spoke, "I wanted to pass on my congratulations, since, since you … seem to have already accepted, I mean moved on, and then… in turn, I wanted to offer you my services… a-as your guard. I'm happy for you since it looks like you've moved on, and… I thought, since both of us know Zelda we could support her together, and-"
"What on earth are you talking about?" Sheik couldn't help but blurt, incredulity laid heavily on her tone.
Link looked just as clueless. "Aren't… aren't you engaged?"
"No!" The thought of it! Din!
"But your cowl, I thought, I read that that was what it meant, that you were… I mean I heard you and that guy…" something akin to pain contorted his expression and he could not go on.
"This has got nothing to do with…" she struggled before finishing rather lamely, "With this."
"What about Zelda?" he tried, wincing at his own inadequate information.
"What about Zelda?"
"Aren't you two… cousins?"
Sheik paled. He was not supposed to know that. The ground began to tip. Nobody was supposed to know that. The air was spinning. How in the Goddesses' names had he…?
"Wow!" a hand grabbed her shoulder and gravity didn't have such a hold on her anymore. She snapped back to attention as the heat of his grip registered, and had she nearly fainted? His face was full, too full of concern, if he only thought her a friend, an acquaintance, a rejection. "Are you alright?"
She could not say. They were standing so close. She could smell flowers off him.
This is it, she whispered, holding the urge to giggle like a silly child back, as she dragged him through the niche by the hand, fingers interlocked. His look of puzzlement turned to awe as they stepped into Sheik's secret hideout, where moonlight filtered through the branches like shafts of pearl, and the stars were alight in the grass. It was a fairy fountain without any fairies; abandoned, but the magic had still yet to leave.
Wait, not stars. Flowers.
These are the Jhinde, she explained, they usually bloom every three years, and they last for only three hours. But here they bloom at night, and lasts till the sun shines. Pretty, isn't it? It's what the name means. Pretty.
It's beautiful, he told her, Just like you.
She grinned. Nonsense, she said. Link gave a tolerant shrug.
Together they sat, surrounded by peace and the star-bursts of flowers, and Link had his arm around her waist, and she had her head leaning on his shoulder. Time passed, and Sheik must have fallen asleep for when she consciously opened her eyes, she was lying on the ground, with Link staring intently down at her with longing and nervousness.
Can I kiss you? he asked, fingers hopefully caressing the cloth that had hidden her face for all the time they had been together.
She blushed deeply as heat clenched her chest. She had worn her cowl since the first day she had begun training to be Zelda's personal guard, and she had to keep it on till she was of age, and fully qualified as a strong warrior. He knew that, he had respected that. But now…
She lifted her hand and covered his eyes. With the other she guided him and let him get rid of her cowl, and for the first time he was touching her face. Okay, she said.
Their first tentative kiss lingered, then continued in a series of soft brushes of lips and fingers caressing cheeks and entwining through hair. It was gentle and nervous and it was the best thing Sheik could've imagined or hoped for in a first kiss. When they parted she forgot to cover his eyes, and he was watching her face, following its contours and the curve of her lips, and he smiled.
If Impa finds out, Sheik couldn't help but say, I'm dead.
She can't complain if we get married, Link had replied flippantly, and there was a pause, as Sheik tried to decide whether he was joking or whether he was being serious. Link carried on, earnestly, Will you? Will you come with me as my wife, to places outside of this country, so amazing that you'd think you're dreaming?
She already believed that she had started dreaming when she replied that she would.
And the tears would not stop falling. No matter how hard she tried Sheik just could not stop crying. "Why are you here!?" she burst out, tired of wishing, of hoping, of second-guessing. She just wanted to know and get it over with. "Why are you meeting me here of all places? Why are you back, you said you wouldn't come back, what are you trying to say? How did you find out that I'm Zelda's cousin what else have you found out behind my back, you had no right, no right! Just what do you want from me!?"
She was crying into his chest and it felt so good to let everything go, feel his hand pass over her back in long strokes, choke and sputter in her own tears like a child of five with a broken bone. Sheik clung to him as if her sanity depended on it, and only when she calmed did she feel those familiar, heart warming kisses in her hair.
"I'm sorry, Sheik, so sorry." He moaned, holding her tightly against him, "When I left, when… when I said I… I didn't… it was a lie. I shouldn't have, I mean, I…" he took a breath, gave her back another reassuring rub before retracting, his expression imploring forgiveness. "I know I was unfair. I was pathetic and bitter over nothing. I instantly regretted every word I said that night, and I wanted to come back but I… I didn't know what to do or say, I was so… afraid of what you'd think of me and there was that stupid war up east… And when I found about you and Zelda, I, that is, you… I mean, royalty?"
"Hardly," she muttered, tears rolling unchecked down her face, "Mother was an obscure northern noblewoman and father was the king's younger brother who 'took up with her' a few years after Zelda's parents' marriage. He was killed in a hunting accident before I was born. They weren't even…"
He was holding her face carefully, wiping her tears away with his thumbs, making sure the cowl hid her face. She pushed him away, the unsaid word burning in her gut and searing the tears across her face. "How'd you find out?"
His hands dropped to his sides, and his expression was crestfallen. "I was working for Queen Ambi at Holodrum, and she was discussing heirs of other countries and I got curious with Hyrule, so I… did some digging."
"You had no right," Sheik hissed, her heart beating wildly against her chest, shouting at her that this was not what she wanted to say, but it just kept tumbling out, "You had no right to even come back, no right to even show your face to me. What do you think I've been doing all this time? Wallowing in misery over you? Well you're wrong!"
"I didn't expect you to. I just… I wanted…"
"What you want!? What about what I want!? Did you ever wonder how I felt when Impa persuaded me to say what I said to you!? How I felt when all I was thinking about was you but you didn't even care and you left and I had nothing, nothing but my training!"
Guilt was written all over his face and he flinched every time she yelled as if her words were physical blows. She punched him for good measure, squarely in the middle of his chest, right where his heart would be.
She breathed and trembled. Her knuckles hurt and she knew for a fact that there would be a bruise marring Link's skin tomorrow morning.
"Do you love me?"
"…What?"
"I am asking, Link, whether you love me." Sheik snapped, "Because I have been dieing, I was beyond misery and grief every single day hurt so much it was pathetic and if you came back just to say congrats on an engagement that doesn't even exist I will lose my mind and I will kill you."
"I'd let you," Link told her solemnly, "I won't move, I won't flinch, I won't even make a sound if that was what you wanted. And even if you don't feel the same, I want to protect you, I never want to see you hurt ever again, I want you in my life. I love you, Sheik, I honestly do."
"Good." She wrenched her mask away and grabbed his face and crushed her lips fiercely against his. She pulled away and then used the cowl to wipe at her face, muttering something about second chances and stupid men and torture devices and-
Her arm was grabbed and she was spun around and this time he kissed her and his hand was around her waist and hair and she kissed back and her tongue slipped through his lips and the heat rose and spread, as he opened up and devoured her, lips, cheeks, jaw, neck, as she held him tighter and tighter, drawing out a whimper of bliss and submission from him. When he returned to her lips their kisses were passionate, frenzied, teeth and tongue pressing for more, and the heat that burned in the pits of their stomachs anxiously waited for shaky and desperate hands to undo belts and ties and tunics and skirts-
They stumbled and danced around each other and dropped in the clearing of Jihnde flowers, and they burst in a cloud of petals above them, as Link stared down at Sheik's face once more.
"You look amazing."
Sheik laughed. Delight and relief and love was bubbling, bubbling inside, begging to be released. "Yeah, crying does that to me."
"Would it help to say that if I wasn't so busy being deliriously happy I'd be crying too?"
"I just want you to know," Sheik murmured, her hand ghosting under his shirt to lightly tease his skin, making him hiss in longing, "That whatever happens next will not make me your wife."
"I know." he kissed her exposed collarbone. "I love you."
"I love you too."
The sun dipped down and the forests darkened. The moon slipped lazily over Kakariko, and blanketed herself in cloud, much like the two huddled figures in a clearing of star-bursts, sharing their heat under a mantle from the past, their dreams full of vague, but comfortable and cheery futures.
If a tear was to leak, the other would kiss it away without fail.