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My eyes roamed fondly over the grassy hills of Ordon, its mountainous slopes speckled with the summer's myriad of bright blossoms. It was getting on in the season; the leaves were just beginning to change color, vibrant reds and brilliant yellows illuminated the once green trees surrounding the town. The slight pinch of a chill nipped at the air. Fall fruits were coming in nicely; ripe apples and grapes scattered the ground near the corral, making tasty treats for our livestock.

I smiled warmly to myself. Days like this reminded me that the quaint little village I called home was actually very busy and bustling. A community that thrived almost purely on trade and voluntary service, where money was of no concern and we could rely on one another for a helping hand.

I opened my eyes, a hand to my forehead, and gazed up at the cloudless sky. The sun hovered lazily above me, so I guessed it was about noon. I sucked in a deep breath through my nose and linked my fingers behind my head, the warm sunlight cascading down onto my face. It felt nice and I sighed as I began to get lost in the moment.

The goats' neurotic bleating caught my attention. I opened my eyes, my hands still tucked behind my head and I checked on the livestock. My reminiscing was distracting me from Epona, who snorted and tapped her hoofs on the ground in protest. I smiled gently, and stroked her creamy mane, running a soothing hand down the length of her coat. With a pat on her hip, I came around to her front and placed my forehead on her muzzle. She lovingly exhaled, tossing my earthy blonde hair about as I grinned. I stroked her cheek lightly and turned my focus back to the goats. With my arms crossed, I watched them canter back and forth in a group around the pasture with a contented smile on my face.

Ordon goats were famous for their cheese, and so our village's reputation and prime income was left up to Fado, who took tremendous care to keep the herd happy. "Happy goats give happy milk," he always said. I chuckled to myself and ran a calloused hand through my messy hair to smooth it, only to have Epona wrap her lips around a lock and give it a yank to attract my attention. Chuckling brightly, I tugged the saddle and hopped up, preparing to take another trot around the corral.

Just before we took off, a startling and desperate roar from the gate stopped us.

"Link!"

It was Bo, sprinting into the pasture as fast as his legs could carry him.

Epona reared a bit in surprise and I gave her reins a tug, petting her ear and down her cheek to help calm her. She eyed Bo's gargantuan figure warily as he sprinted toward us.

He skidded to a stop and, between breathy gasps, continued in staccato, "It's Ilia. Crazy. Breaking things. Screaming. Help." I nodded, my expression turning serious, and jerked Epona's reins. We jumped the fence, not bothering to wait for Bo, and hurriedly made our way to Ilia. A hundred thousand thoughts raced through my brain: Was she hurt? Was she upset? If so, what about? How? What happened?

I urged the mare to gallop faster, her hoof beats becoming frantic. My heartbeat did the same.

Skittering to a halt in front of the Mayor's house, I leaped off the saddle and dashed for the door. Rushing up the stairs, I threw my back against the wall, trying in vain to peek in the windows. It was possible she was being attacked. In a slight panic and with little time to waste I shoved the door open, only to be greeted by a flying teapot, which exploded on impact with my forehead. Stumbling backwards, I dizzily caught myself on a table and dived to the ground at a moment's notice, narrowly avoiding a second round. I quickly clawed my way behind the overturned table and frantically waved my arms in the air to stop the barrage of Ilia's impulsive arsenal.

"What does he think he's doing?" she screamed in a rage, "Where does he get off?" Another crash rattled the house as a shelf of dishes came tumbling to the floor.

I winced and ducked behind the table again. With a shoddy, makeshift plan, I carefully tip-toed behind a bookshelf to her left, flanking her, and pounced, grabbing her about the arms and pinning her to my body.

She struggled furiously and screamed at me, "Let me go! My father needs to know what he's doing is wrong!" A bite to my forearm almost made me drop her into a pile of broken glass.

I grimaced and sighed heavily as I hauled her flailing body off to a safer spot.

"Let me go right now!" She swung a stray fist and knocked me in the bridge of my nose.

That one got me; I saw stars and my grip loosened on the young girl. The second she felt my grasp on her slip, she promptly scrambled to the sofa and armed herself with a hearth poker. I held my nose protectively and, with my free hand, I frantically gestured "stop".

With a look of half confusion and half fury, it finally registered who I was, "Oh, Link! It's you!" Ilia exclaimed, lowering her weapon. She must've noticed the blood dribbling from beneath my hand, because a gasp escaped her lips, "Did I hit you?" Dropping the iron rod, she hopped over the sofa and gently brushed my nose with her fingertips.

I winced. Blushing a little in embarrassment, I knew I must've looked a little silly with blood all over my face from getting punched by a girl.

She quickly withdrew her hand and fumbled with her fingers.

"I'm sorry, Link. It's just-" she began halfheartedly. She cautiously glanced up at me through her eyelashes and shuddered, "It's just my father. I'm sure he told you," she groused, beckoning me to the toilet.

I shook my head curiously, a hand still shielding my possibly broken nose.

"Oh really?" She spat furiously, grabbing me by the hair and shoving my head into a basin of icy water. My eyes shot wide open and a few bubbles escaped my nostrils as I blubbed for help. It tasted old, like it had been brought in early this morning. That would explain why it was freezing cold.

"It's just like him to keep it a secret from the rest of the town," She complained, violently snatching a cloth from the cupboard. She shoved it in the washbowl and jerked my head back out, again, by my hair. Fiercely scrubbing my face, Ilia continued her tirade as I feebly batted at her hands.

"He probably doesn't want everyone to know what a terrible father he is!" She shouted out the open door, angrily slamming my face back into the water. "I mean, seriously! Who in their right mind would bestow that kind of fate on someone they're supposed to love?"

I nervously watched the cloth shoot into the basin, narrowly missing my injured nose.

With her clutching my head, she ranted on, holding my face in the washbowl, under water. It must've been a full minute before I started to completely lose faith that she remembered I was there. Gently tapping her hand, I thought it might be a good idea to let her know she was drowning me.

"Oh Gods!" She cried, releasing me like a hot pan.

I lugged my heavy head out of the pail with a huge drawn out gasp, my hair stuck to my face and my clothes soaked to the seam. I sputtered for a moment, gulping down as much air as I could fit in my lungs before shaking my head like a dog, droplets flying every which way.

Ilia scoffed and gestured irritably to her tunic.

I must've gotten her wet, but I couldn't really see through the curtain blocking my view. I smiled like a fool and combed it back with my fingers.

She snorted in disgust and stomped to the cupboard again, snapping up another towel and drying off. A heavy sigh escaped her lips as she sulked her way to the closet, fetching a broom to clean up the disaster area that was once the front room.

I jokingly rolled my eyes and toweled off my head, dumping the basin out the window and mopping up the mess on the floor. Once it was done, I approached Ilia in the den, who was mindlessly sweeping an already clean spot. Smiling, I leaned far to the right, looking up at her beneath her hanging hair.

She huffed stubbornly and shoved me away by my injured nose, "You're always smiling like an idiot, Link. You need to view the world a little bit more realistically."

I grunted and rubbed it gingerly, rolling my eyes again, thinking she was one to talk.

Ilia turned her back to me and muttered, "I suppose I should tell you what happened."

Peeking over her shoulder, she watched me curiously, struggling to keep her fight with her father to herself. It wasn't so much that she didn't want to tell me what happened, because she did, it was that she had to face that she had seriously overreacted.

I eyed her puzzlingly, my hands firmly crossed over my chest. I was silently demanding a truthful answer, and had a good track record with getting them out of her.

She jerked her attention forward again, her lip trembling and her fists clenched. She eventually broke, her eyes brimming with frustrated tears, "My father is making me marry a suitor!"

My eyes widened and I carefully searched for the appropriate reaction. What did I feel? Confusion and shock, beyond anything else. I sympathized with Ilia for once; no one should be forced to marry someone they didn't love. I raised my brows in apology and placed a heavy hand on her shoulder, coaxing her to turn around. She slowly turned, and when her eyes met mine, I flashed a determined smile to show her there was hope.

She looked almost giddy for a moment.

"Are you going to talk to my father?" Ilia asked, wiping the runaway tears from her cheek.

My hand relaxed. A look of guilt spread over my face. Is that what she wanted? Could I change Bo's mind? I knew he was only interested in what was best for her, and it didn't seem fair for me to get involved with Ilia's marriage. I didn't have much of a say.

I shrugged uncomfortably and released her. I honestly didn't know if I could help her, and on top of that I didn't really feel like doing Ilia any favors. She wasn't exactly gracious about these kinds of things.

"Do you understand the kind of predicament I'm in?" She continued, urgently, her fists tightly balling up.

I reluctantly nodded, placing my fists on my hips and stared at the floor, lost in thought. As my gaze flitted about the room, it finally met Ilia's, which was desperate for help. I sighed wistfully. It wasn't my place to butt into family affairs, but this didn't seem right, even to Ilia. I folded my arms over my chest and chewed my lip.

"I suppose it doesn't matter to you. You couldn't help me even if you wanted to." She turned her back to me, her arms falling loosely to her sides and her shoulders dropping in defeat.

I roughly prodded her in the back and eyed her, my arms firmly crossed over my chest, my brow cocked provocatively. Of course I cared what happened to her. Just like anyone else in this village, I wanted her to be happy. She turned to face me and caved a little.

"What I really want," she began, "is to travel." Her eyes got starry for a moment, then as quickly as it came, it was gone. She snatched up the broom and began sweeping the mess again, trying to rid herself of any vulnerability.

I poked her again.

"What?" She snapped.

Gesturing for her to continue, I took a seat on the corner of the sofa and waited for an explanation. Tamping her foot, she made it clear she refused to utter another peep. To her, it wasn't my business, I suppose. I smiled warmly, hoping to pick her brain a bit more; it was important that I know why she was so against the marriage, if she really wanted me to talk to her father.

She fiddled with the broom, her fingers nervously curling and uncurling around the handle. Finally, abandoning any attempt to shield her feelings from me, she quickly and almost incoherently blurted, "Well, I really want to see Hyrule. I've been stuck in this dinky village forever and I don't want to be tied down to this kind of life before I even get to see what else there is! And my father! What does he think he's doing? Forcing me to marry a suitor; marriage should be out of love, but he's insisting that I marry so I can lead Ordon when he's gone. I don't even want to be the new mayor; I'm not a leader and I'm definitely not interested. If I can get out of here, I'm never coming back." She finished, throwing down the broom and crossing her arms adamantly.

I sighed, blowing a raspberry and leaning back on the sofa, linking my fingers behind my head. I stared at the ceiling and contemplated the situation. It was kind of a lot to take in, considering I'd known Ilia her entire life and Bo my entire life. Bo was very uniform; he liked things done the right way, and emotions never got in the way, and very rarely did they count. Ilia, on the other hand, liked things done her way. Bo relied on his only child to pick up leading where he left off, and suitors were normally a good way to go about keeping the lineage clean. Unfortunately, Ilia was too willful to not only do what her father asks, but also, marry who her father asks. I scratched my head in bewilderment.

Finding it difficult to take sides, I settled with trying to convince Ilia's father otherwise; it might quiet the belligerence in them, if nothing else. Ilia obviously liked the idea of some change between her and her father, seeing as she seemed pretty keen on my talking to him about the marriage. My eyes narrowed and I smiled. She watched me carefully, her eyes following me to the door.

"Link, what are you up to?" she interrogated.

I waved her off, stepped out the door and shut it behind me. Leaving her to clean up, I figured I had done enough to at least calm her down; nothing else was bound to be destroyed for at least a little while. I made my way toward Rusl's in search of Bo.

Luckily, when I got there Bo was just leaving, Uli standing on the steps holding her belly, a perpetually warm smile spread across her face. Her eyes popped open when she noticed me and shot me a smile. I smiled in kind and waved my hand.

Bo approached me, the slight hint of embarrassment on his face. He had been paying visits to the villagers and apologizing for the racket. When it occurred to me, I rolled my eyes.

"Link, thank Gods. Did you speak with Ilia?"

I nodded.

Bo sighed heavily, and with a little shame in his voice he said, "I wouldn't have done it if I didn't feel that I had to."

Shaking my head with soft sarcasm, I chuckled a bit, my fist to my lips to hide the smile.

"I know, I know. She's insane! My daughter, our soon-to-be-leader, at 23 is already insane. I'm sure you witnessed the tail end of her hissy fit?"

I chuckled.

He shrugged, "Of course, I'm a little embarrassed that she still acts the way she does. I guess you could say I've spoiled her," Bo said scratching his bald head.

I shrugged in kind, as to say, 'well, yeah, kind of.'

"Okay, I suppose you probably need to know a couple of things before believing what Ilia had to say." He said, making his way to the bridge.

As we stood over the tiny creek, Bo let out a sigh, one ripe with relief and age. It sounded well-needed. He clapped a hand on my shoulder, casting an enormous shadow below us. The rays of sunlight managed to find their way around our bodies and settled on the surface of the crystal clear water. Bo was shaking. In surprise, I dared a glance at him and he was evidently upset over the whole ordeal. It made sense that marrying off his only daughter to a stranger was taking a toll on him; while he wanted Ilia to be happy, he wanted the town taken care of at the same time. A difficult decision to make.

"Link, my boy," he began in a wise voice, "do you remember when Calista found you?"

I chuckled pitifully, shaking my head.

"Not well, huh? Well, when she found you, you were alone. Not much older than nine. You-you were out in Faron woods, wrapped in a wool blanket asleep at that old campsite. My wife," he glanced at me, swallowing a bit too hard, "Calista, brought you home. The look on her face was absolutely...adoring. She looked at you like you were her own child, even though she'd just met you."

A fond smile crossed my face; it was nice to hear about Calista every once in a while.

Bo cleared his throat loudly, "How-how long were you at that campsite again?"

I wiggled four fingers.

He chuckled, "Amazing. Four years before we found you."

He cleared his throat again, "The only reason I bring up Calista is because Ilia is becoming exactly the woman she was. More the woman Calista was." Bo trailed off, his voice cracking with pride.

"My daughter must take over when I'm too old to do it any longer. That's why she must marry, and soon!" He threw his fist down and stared off toward the falls.

"She's been making all this talk about leaving, but I know better than her. I know she wouldn't survive a day out there. I'm too... terrified to see her fall to the same fate as my wife."

I was a bit taken aback. I'd never seen Bo this passionate about anything since Calista. It had been years since she died, but it made sense that he was overly protective of his only daughter. Once he had calmed significantly, it was apparent that he was only suggesting the suitors to protect his daughter. If she married for practicality rather than love, she was much less likely to be hurt, and it kept her from leaving Ordon.

The old man shrugged in defeat, "It's not like she could go by herself."

Then, pow. Like a punch in the stomach, I had an idea. I excitedly grabbed Bo's arm and spun him around to look at me. I shook him and pointed at myself.

"What is it, Link?" He questioned, a little panicked.

Impatiently, I gestured to myself again, and pointed toward Ilia.

I saw it click, "You'll go with her?"

I nodded.

I watched him slowly put the pieces together, "So..." he began, "she would go to Castle Town... meet a man, get married and come back?"

Motioning that he basically had the right idea, I saw it click again.

His face got serious once again, "We should keep it secret that she must return."

I tapped the end of my nose, immediately regretting it.