This is my first fic in ages so let me know what you think. I am writing this, and another fic at the same time with a different couple and setting (although still Zelda based). It needs a bit of work, however, so it wont be up for a while.

Disclaimer: I do not own anything to do with Zelda; that is reserved solely by Nintendo. I merely have a collection of Zelda games, an active imagination and a love for boys who kiss boys XD.

Warning: On that note this fic will contain, rather obviously now, both male/male and het couplings. If this is disagreeable to you then leave. Alternatively, seeing as how all relationships in fiction are simply building blocks for the greater storyline, you could simply judge the story based on its merit, rather than the fact that at some point one male is going to kiss another male. Up to you. This story will also contain graphic violence and dark themes, which really, when you think about it, should concern you more. -Throws hands in the air-

A/N: I have purposely not revealed any couplings as I feel it is disappointing in the end - and it is a personal beef of mine. For those who started reading back when I included the couplings in the summary I charge you with silence! And if you think it is fairly obvious just keep in mind that not everything is as it seems.

So with that out of the way. Onward, dear readers …

Prelude

The deception of Dawn

Dawn had barely broken across the far horizon. Pale light, not yet enough to reveal the houses of the village as more than silhouettes, resolutely began pushing back the mantle of the night sky. Fingers of pink and gold began to show, glistening off the frost that coated the ground in pale beads of silver.

The thin mist that had settled during the night began to disperse as the weak warmth of the light filtered through the morning air. The parting mist revealed a small village nestled at the foot of a mountain, cramped and hidden from view. The buildings were well kept but age had long reared its head. The dawn light, however forgiving, could not hide the cracks in the brickwork or the warped, rotting beams.

In a copse of trees perched on a rocky outcrop above the village square a shadow shifted slightly, pale eyes squinting against the glare as the sun peeked over the rim of the earth. The growing light revealed a figure crouched amongst the trees, wrapped in dark, nondescript clothing. Expertly hidden and utterly still, the figure was all but invisible to the village below. It waited patiently as it had the past four hours; starting slightly as the crowing of a cock broke the silence of the morning.

The figure cursed under its breath. He had better arrive soon, it could not risk staying much longer.

Pale eyes drifted back to the window it had been watching for the past few hours, the figure inside was still pacing, passing the open window again and again. During one pass, it stopped suddenly and looked towards the sun, lowering the hood of the heavy black cloak it wore. The watcher's eyes narrowed slightly as it tried to ascertain the features of the figure, but the light, still inadequate, revealed only a glimpse of blond hair under a pale head wrap. The figure clenched a fist on the sill and whirled back into the room, the cloak snapping open briefly with the movement to reveal the garb beneath.

The watchers eyes widened as they caught the motif on the figure's chest. No. It couldn't be. The watcher cursed again. It would have to stay now, no matter the risk. This development could be crucial; It would never be forgiven.

The watcher's head snapped towards to the entrance of the village as the clop of horseshoes echoed up from the steep stairway. Finally. Soon enough a small figure could be seen moving under the tall gate that guarded the entrance to the village square. Clad in dull brown, his blond hair falling from beneath a dark head covering, the man led his horse to a corral near the gate and deftly tied the bridle to a post. It was him! Rubbing his horse briefly on the nose the man turned and quietly made his way to the house where the figure in the cloak now sat, foot tapping impatiently on the floor.

The watcher leaned forward. This was more than could be hoped for. It would be rewarded for this. She would be delighted when she heard.

It stilled suddenly, breath halted as the man paused on his way to the house and looked towards the outcrop. The watcher didn't dare breathe, cursing itself silently for letting its guard down. The brown clad man scanned the trees for a moment before putting a hand to his face and pressing his eyes. Turning away, he continued to the dark house.

The watcher let out its breath slowly, mentally kicking itself for its stupidity. If it had been caught she would have killed it. The knowledge of its presence could seriously jeopardize her goal and that would be unforgivable.

The man below knocked softly on the door, the sound carrying to the trees in the still air, pale eyes turned again to the window, the cloaked figure inside had already left the chair, knocking the candelabra from the table in their haste to the door. The watcher frowned slightly as the man at the door disappeared inside. It would need to hear this.

Pausing to make sure they did not appear at the window, the watcher moved silently from the cover of the bushes and began to scale the face of the outcrop with ease, dropping with a slight grunt to the ground once it had climbed low enough. On noiseless feet the black clad watcher ran low to the wall of the building and crouched next to an old crate, its sides waterlogged and crooked. Creeping closer to the window it slowed its breathing and cocked its head to one side, straining to hear the conversation within.

'Link. You came.' The voice was a hoarse whisper, fraught with tension.

'Don't use my name,' the reply, equally terse, 'you know it is not safe. What do you want?'

'There is no one here to –'

'Sheik. I risk my life coming here, I would not have come at all were it not you who sent for me. If I stay much longer my horse will be recognized. Please.'

The first voice sighed. 'The queen has need of you.'

A pause … then

'The queen.' It was a simple statement, tinged with regret. 'I have not seen her for three years,' a hollow laugh escaped then, 'what need does the queen have for me?'

'She is dying Link.' The voice sounded pained.

Another pause.

'Sheik, I …' the voice stopped and cleared its throat.

'It's the sickness. I thought she would be safe in the palace. I thought if I forced her to hold off on her duties for a while but she is stubborn! You know how stubborn she is – she refused to deny the people her presence and now she is dying. Link she needs you. I told her you may not come, I told her that no one knows where you are anymore -.'

'Except you.' The statement was flat. Accusing.

'How could I deny her?' the voice became pleading now, desperate. 'I am bound to her, you know this!'

'The queen has not had need of me for years, I don't see what -.'

'By the triad that marks you; you are bound to her fate.' The voice was stronger now, an undercurrent of passion lending it steel. 'She calls for you Link and you must answer, you must!' the voice hesitated, 'From him marked by courage I would not have thought to see cowardice.'

There was a scuffle and a thud as though something had been pushed against the wall. The watcher beneath the window heard a gasp and a grunt. The sound of breathing came heavier now.

'It is not cowardice that holds me back,' the voice snarled, startlingly close, 'the queen long ago separated our fates when she denounced me to her people. Her weakness forced me to leave my home and become outcast from my own land and you dare accuse me of cowardice.'

There was silence for a moment, terse breathing the only sound from within the room. The reply, when it came, was soft and regretful.

'It was a choice between you and her kingdom.' The speaker swallowed, 'she could not abandon her people in their greatest need. I … I'm sorry. I have never thought you cowardly and I shouldn't have goaded you. I was just … I wanted you to be rash and run off in the face of that accusation to prove me wrong. That's what the old Link would have done.'

'The old Link died along with the Queen's faith in me.' The voice sounded weary now. There was a slight rustling and creaking of floorboards. The watcher surmised that the attacker had released his hold on the other man.

'Link … I.' There was something in the tone that made the watcher raise its head and listen closer. 'I haven't seen you for years … I have missed you'

'I miss so many things, Sheik.'

"I would have come with you,' the voice was quiet now, an undercurrent ran through it; some emotion that the watcher could not place, 'If not for my loyalty you know I would have given up Hyrule.'

There was silence for a moment.

'Sheik I don't know why you would give me this devotion.'

'You know why.'

The voice sounded slightly uncomfortable now, 'I wish you would not speak so.'

'You cannot avoid this forever.'

Somebody cleared their throat shakily, but then …

'HEY!'

The watcher looked up sharply, drawing a wickedly sharp blade from a sheath near its ankle. A man had emerged from side of a house further down the row of buildings, leading a cow for milking. He dropped the rope and grabbed an axe leaning against the side of the house.

The watcher cursed as the brown clad figure appeared over the sill and glanced down, eyes widening in surprise. 'What in … Hey!'

The watcher darted from under the sill and made for the horse tied near the front entrance, the man with the axe running to intercept the escape. Daring to glance back the watcher cursed as the figure in the window leapt over the sill, but the crate below collapsed under the weight and the figure rolled to the ground, losing valuable seconds.

Reaching the horse the watcher frantically fumbled with the ropes, finally slicing through them with one quick motion, the knife moving as though it had not encountered anything on its swift journey down. Leaping onto the horse the watcher attempted to wheel it around to face the gate but the horse bucked and shied, putting the watcher off balance. Cursing, the black clad figure slid from the horse's back just as the man with the axe caught up, grabbing the watcher by the arm.

'What business do you have-.'

The mans angry cry was abruptly cut short as the sharp blade plunged into his chest. Savagely wrenching the blade down, the watcher flinched as blood sprayed out, getting in its eyes. Pushing the dead man away and furiously rubbing its face the watcher saw the brown clad figure now sprinting towards the corral, drawing a dangerous looking sword as he ran. The watcher darted behind the corral and ran up the back of the nearest building, making its way towards the graveyard where it knew lay certain escape.

Darting around the corner of another building, trying to throw off its pursuer, the watcher looked frantically around in case the second figure appeared suddenly. Bolting the corner of another house the watcher tripped over a low fence into a fowl pen, the knife flying from its fingers and burying itself in a wooden beam more than 10 feet from where the watcher sprawled. Hearing the pursuer close behind the black glad figure scrambled from the ground and, abandoning the knife, ran for the tunnel that led to the graveyard, disappearing behind a curve in the path.

The man in brown came to a halt next to the pen, breath misting the air in hurried puffs. The birds clucked and bobbed disapprovingly, interrupted in their foraging for yesterday's seed.

The man approached the knife curiously, examining it closely but not touching it. The blade was clear and keen, its edge seemed to flash as some light passed through it. Blue eyes narrowed, lips tightening slightly.

'What is it?' The cloaked figure had approached from behind.

'The thing's blade. It is magicked.' Pulling a length of cloth from his satchel, the man wrapped the handle carefully before working it from the beam. 'I'll have to show it to Cayel. Come, we must leave. Now.'

On the back of the horse behind the brown clad man, red eyes glanced sorrowfully from beneath the cloak's hood at the body on the ground. They galloped from the village, the heavy clod of horse shoes gradually disappearing down the stair.

Quiet descended once more on the sleepy village, still except for the activity of the morning birds. The cow wandered to the front of the village, lowing mournfully, snuffing at the body on the ground before dipping its head to pull at the grass, red reflecting in its liquid eyes.

High on a cliff edge above the village the figure in black clenched its fists, eyes narrowing in disgust. How could it have been so careless?

It would punished, it knew, even now it flinched at the thought. She may be more lenient once she hears, it would have to be careful. Don't reveal everything at once, it must make itself indispensable.

Smiling slightly the figure turned and disappeared into the rocks. It's path chosen.

Ok, so let me know what you think. I love reviews, I would use them for my main source of dietary intake but for their astonishing lack of essential vitamins and minerals.

Just note the fic will not be written in this rather ambiguous third person all the way through it was only the prelude. It makes the beginning far more exciting XD. Fear not!

tS.tF

NB: This is the revised edition of this chapter, having fixed my many grammatical errors on the advice of a helpful friend, and tidying up some confusing areas near the beginning at the suggestion of a helpful reviewer. So thanks to both of you. Feel free to correct any mistakes you notice and please, please, PLEASE let me know if I make some horrible deviation from the cannon, It has been a while since I played OoT.