Author's Sidenote: Man, this second chapter was hard. As with all my stories, these are very rough first drafts. Though I do my best to comply with fanfiction regulations and keep out major errors in spelling and grammar and all that jazz, it isn't going to be published quality. I hope you enjoy the story itself, however. Please, let me know what you think about the plot and characters and what you like or hate. ^.^ It will help me learn more about what you like and what things people like to see in stories. Feel free to email me about whatever. These stories are for you. I also do my best to update at least once a week so you don't have to wait forever for the story to continue. I hate waiting. I figured, why would you hate it any less?

Anyhoo, I'll get out of your hair now. Please, enjoy.

Chapter 2: Moon Spirit

They took her to the nearest thing to a physician they had: Bo. There was a reason why Ilia's father had become the unspoken leader of the town besides the obvious. The man knew things. Among those things was a respectable amount of knowledge about fixing people up. Link could have done a good deal for the strange girl as well, having had to deal with wounds more times than he cared to count on his own adventures, but he was not stupid enough to offer his help with the girl mostly naked and all. Ilia wouldn't even let him carry the girl, even though he knew he was probably stronger than the much older Fado. The whole way he could catch her peeking over at him suspiciously. He wasn't that immature. Why did everyone think he was? Saving Hyrule does merit a bit of personal growth, for Farore's sake!

Nevertheless, she continued to keep a watchful eye on him until she disappeared behind a curtain with her father. The last think Link saw of the peculiar girl was her train of feathers vanishing behind the rug. Fido left there after (probably to yell to the whole town that they had found a freak), and Link was left in relative peace.

That was, however, until three of the Sorens boys came down from the stairs with a hoot a second later. For the next nerve racking half hour he had to deal with the three of them whistling and making jibs at the fact the girl had been naked. They didn't seem to catch the fact she had wings. If they did, they didn't care. Boobs and butts were far more interesting. And they insisted on nagging him for details that would make the most corrupted man blush.

Again—they called him immature?

Link considered himself a patience fellow. Sitting and waiting on goats most days demanded patience. But by the time their weary mother finally came in from outside, his hands had already risen to throttle the guy nearest to him. The boy had the worst acne he had ever seen and he had already imagined squeezing the kid's neck so hard every pimple would burst. Despite the entrance of their mother, the two younger boys behind him started up a war chant on how Link was gay—and not just normal gay, but gayer than the gayest man alive, for he obviously lacked the capacity to appreciate the art of a naked woman.

He couldn't help but snarl. Irritating, annoying, idiotic bastards…

"Now boys," said their mother as stern as her hoarse voice could handle, "please, for once, can you control yourselves? Your father needs you north of Jaggle's tree. They've managed to get a rather big buck and they need help cleaning it up."

At the mention of blood and guts the boys crowed for joy and crowded out the door. In their rush Link thought to throw in a punch, but conveniently missed. His chest rumbled with growls.

Ms. Sorens apologized profusely, but the words were over-used and tired. His sympathy for her sapped away his anger and he a grunted 'it's fine'. During all the hubbub he had had no time to worry or wonder about the winged girl. Where had she come from? What was she? And what had happened to her?

At the thought he moved his hand to the hilt of his sword at his hip and squeezed it. A familiar sense of foreboding tickled the back of his mind.

Quite some time later, Ilia walked out, blood flecked on her sleeves and hands. Her anxiety wore on every line in her face.

"What do you know of the healing powers of the spirit at the spring?"

Link raised an eyebrow. "I take it she's not doing well?"

She bit her lip. With a jerking motion, she shook her head. He could feel his gut clench and stood up without another thought.

"Let's take her to the spring. I don't know whether Ordona will feel obligated to heal her or not, but if nothing the waters should help."

Ilia nodded and went to the curtain. Moments later, Bo came out grimly carrying the limp figure of the girl with her large wings folded about her like a cocoon. She had been clumsily dressed in one of Ilia's nightgowns, though they had left the back unbuttoned for her wings. Bandages crisscrossed her arms and legs as well as one, great wing. The sight of her once more stunned him, and for a moment he merely stood there and stared. Amidst all the feathers he could make out a bit of her face. It was smooth and pale. He recalled her big blue eyes.

It didn't take long to walk to the springs in the night. Crickets sung all about them and he could smell the growing dew in the air. Some of the villagers watched from their doorways as they passed. All stared unabashedly. It made his skin crawl for some reason.

"Just…how bad is she?" he asked Ilia.

Again, she gnawed on her lip. "Bad. She's lost a lot of blood and the gash on her side is pretty deep. Also one of her wings is broken. But…goddesses, Link, she's so beautiful. You should have felt those feathers. They're softer than anything I've ever felt."

He looked up at Bo to see said feathers peeking out from his arms.

"Do you know what she is?" she asked.

"No. But I…"

"But what?"

"I think I've sort of…seen her before."

"How can you 'sort of' see someone? Honestly."

He hesitated, debating on stopping while he was ahead. However, he remembered Ilia's complaint of him never opening up to her, and forced the truth through.

"I had a dream about her last night. I think."

To half his surprise and half his expectation, she smirked.

"Was it love at first sight?"

"By Farore, isn't it weirder to you that I actually dreamt about her?"

"Not really. You are the fancy chosen one and all. Doesn't that just come with the job?"

He wondered if being kidnapped by bulblins and getting smacked with amnesia had killed her sense of the strange.

"Aren't you in the least bit weirded out by all this?"

"Of course I am! But at the moment all we need to be concerned about is helping her through." she glanced back at the lights of the village they were leaving behind.

Link, his attention on what he could see of the girl around Bo's arms, silently agreed. Then, in the light of the lamp he carried, he noticed something peculiar. The forest around them was dark. Too dark. Heart picking up a notch he looked up into the sky to find it black as well. Only a few stars shown strong enough past the light of his lamp. Ilia frowned at his expression.

"What are you looking at?"

"The moon." His eyes narrowed. "There's no moon."

"No need to sound so dramatic. It's probably just a new moon tonight."

"Last night was a full moon, though."

And he remembered this very distinctly, for he had spent a good deal of his sleepless hours gazing up into it and wishing he could howl once more in its light. Just to be sure, however, he scanned the tree line and the edges of the forests for a trace of silver.

"Maybe it just hasn't risen yet." she said.

"Full moons rise early, don't you know that?"

She gave him a peculiar look. "Since when have you been so into the moon cycle?"

But the hairs on the back of his neck had prickled. The sensation was far too familiar. His old instincts tingled at something in the air and he looked around restlessly.

By the time they had reached Ordon Spring his fingers ached from clenching the handle of his sword. Ilia looked to be a bit on edge as well as she helped her father lower the winged girl into the waters. They glistened orange beneath his lamplight.

He wasn't ready for the water to begin glowing at the touch of her body. Bo leapt back in surprise, yet his daughter forced herself to stay still to hold up the girls head above the water. Gold light glistened off her form. The winged girl, however, just seemed white; white and luminescent as though the moon still shone.

"Goddesses!" cried Ilia, mouth agape, but otherwise speechless.

Something tickled at the back of his mind. The hairs all over his body stood on end as metallic noise rattled behind him.

He whirled around with a whip of his unsheathed sword. Where the light from the spring ended and the darkness begun, an inhuman face reflected back the light; metal, flat, and riveted with black symbols. The flat face cocked to the side. Red lines spidered across its otherwise invisible, black body.

For a moment, he couldn't breathe. It had been so long since he had seen a creature of the Twili. The corrupted being of twilight stumbled slowly towards him, rattling all the way. It didn't move right. It seemed…injured. And where were the rest? There was never just one Twili. He knew that all too well.

A scream erupted behind him. Ilia had finally noticed the creature. It grew agitated at the sound and paused in the light to rattle its plate-head faster.

"Shut up!" he hissed behind him. He clenched his right hand and cursed the lack of his shield. Well, better kill it quick while it was the odd one before—

Too late. The Twili threw its head back and gave the most unearthly, blood chilling screech. He winced and jerked his hands to his ears. His entire body had seized up at the sound.

The moment it ran out of breath he scrambled forward, sword held high—teeth clenched. He tried his best to ignore the growing lines of red appearing in the darkness. The eyeless plate just watched him. It fell underneath his sword without complaint and far too quickly. So it had already been weakened. But why?

"Link!"

Somehow, faster than shadows themselves, the resurrected Twili had dashed past him, ignoring him completely to make a beeline for Ilia and the winged girl. He cursed and ran back, but he knew he wouldn't make it. Not this again!

But the moment the shadow beasts touched the water the spring exploded with brilliant light. The clearing and trees' colors shone out as though in broad daylight. He stumbled into the spring and squinted into the light. In it he could make out the gleaming form of a goat. It lowered its horns to the black creatures writhing in its light. Between his hooves lay the silvery white form of the winged girl, Bo, and Ilia.

'Now, Hero!' he heard in his mind. With a war cry he tackled the first creature, blade first. They fell before him, four in all, like ash statues. When the last Twili had fallen the light finally began to dim. Ilia stared up at the great creature. She looked close to fainting. Her father simply stared, jaw to his belt.

He approached it numbly. A confused buzzed filled his mind.

"Do you," he cleared his throat, "do you know what just happened?"

The great shimmering goat shook its ragged head.

The guardian of the gap between dimensions must be in peril, for I sense a weakening of the boundaries. The creatures of darkness must have slipped through its weakening security.

"Guardian of the gap? But…what's that?"

The goat raised its head to the sky. Sure enough, it pointed its glowing nose to the blank darkness he had noticed before.

The moon.

Instinctually, he looked to the winged girl, still giving off a faint, silvery light.

"It's her, isn't it?"

I do not believe so, said Ordona, to Link's surprise. He had been so sure he was right. This girl looks nothing like the moon spirit and is, most importantly, very mortal.

He frowned to himself. "Well, what is she then?"

For the first time, he witnessed a great spirit of light hesitate. The affect was immensely unnerving.

"You don't know…?"

The goat shook its head. And then, as though to make up for the alarming lack in its infinite knowledge, it said: but I do know that if the moon spirit is not rescued soon from whatever calamity that has fallen upon the dimensional gap, the two worlds will cease to be separate and meld together as one. All the land will be covered in twilight.

The image of Midna as he last remembered her (tall and oh so curvy), rose to his mind. He had the stupid urge to ask if a veil of twilight would be so bad, but remembered he had fought specifically to prevent that just over a year ago and mentally shook himself. He must be losing it.

Ordona had begun to flicker. It lowered its nose to the winged girl at its hooves. Ilia gawked up at its wide horns holding the shifting orb of light.

I sensed a great light and innocence in this girl, however, and that is why I have healed her. Link thought he could feel the great being glance at him. That is why you have brought her to me, no?

He nodded. The spirit continued to fade. The darkness of the night started to close in.

I believe it would be in your best interest to watch over this girl.

He was about to nod again, when he stopped.

"Wait! What about the moon spirit?"

I am leaving to counsel with the other light spirits…as we speak…

And with that, darkness resumed. He blinked furiously as his eyes adjusted. Ahead of him, Bo collapsed with a large splash.

"By golly…" he said.

But a strange, hopeful wriggle had come to life in Link's chest. At the same time his gut twisted with guilt. What was wrong with him? He shouldn't be hoping for twilight of all things. It was selfish and, Din, it was stupid! He had specifically killed Zant and in turn Ganon to bring an end to a never-ending twilight, and now he was hoping for it just so he could see Midna again? What would she think of him if she could hear him now!

In the stunned silence he furiously berated himself. But by the time Bo and Ilia were ready to speak on what had just happened, the hope still fluttered in his chest like a tiny flame curving in the shape of a woman.

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On a pad of folded blankets in front of his fireplace, the winged girl lay motionless on her stomach. Though her wounds had been entirely healed, she had yet to regain consciousness. Half of his attention watched how the fire played across the girl's feathers. More than once he had given in to the temptation to touch those winter white feathers. They were just as Ilia said and softer than the finest silk. He also discovered a small, blue stone peeking out between her bangs of white hair. It had changed colors since then, however, and now looked more like dull silver. He could only guess that it was important.

She was here because Bo and Ilia had figured Link's place would be the best to store her for now until they could think of somewhere else, because at the moment their own home was filled to bursting with (horny) teenage boys and the other villagers didn't have much room to speak of either. So, not thinking much of it, Link had popped out his lift (which he usually used to bring up large things into his tree house), and pulled up the girl.

Now, here he sat, hours later and unable to sleep, staring at her. Link knew it had to be late—ungodly late by the itch in his eyes—but his mind wouldn't stay still. It kept buzzing with thoughts of Midna and images of the shadow beasts. It annoyed him. He should be wondering more about why a supposedly omniscient light spirit didn't know who let alone what this girl was, and yet all he could think about was that damn, impish smile and long Twilian legs. More than once he had growled to himself and slammed his forehead to the floor. He could already feel a bruise developing there.

A small groan broke him out of his thoughts. The feathers he had been staring at twitched and a hand rubbed at her eyes.

"Ah, look who's waking up."

She pulled back her hand and blinked up at him blearily. Her eyes were even bluer than he remembered. He smiled down at her warmly.

"'ello. How do you feel?"

She eased herself onto her knees and rustled her wings into a tight fold against her back, but didn't answer, instead choosing to examine herself through the loose fitting nightgown. When she turned her attention back up at him he got a good look at her face framed by waves of softly curling white hair. It was smooth and white as he had thought, oval, with a petite mouth and nose. The blue eyes examined him meticulously.

"Yes, that's me. The name's Link." A thought occurred to him. "Do you, uh, understand me?"

She nodded. He couldn't help but feel relieved. That made everything so much easier.

"Great! So, you hungry? You can tell me about yourself as you eat. I kept some leftover stew for you. I'm afraid it's the only thing I'm particularly good at making."

She blinked at him. Then nodded again, still without a word. Hoping he wasn't making her feel too awkward, he stood up and walked around her to the fire to grab a bowl and filled it. He could feel her gaze on his back. When he handed it to her she took it with cautious hands and sniffed it before taking an equally cautious bite. She seemed surprised at the taste.

"Good?"

She nodded again and took a bite, this time much more eagerly.

"So…you have a name?"

Pausing to chew on a bite, she shrugged.

"So, no name?"

Again, she shrugged. He was beginning to wonder if she really did understand him.

"Oh come on, you have to at least have a name! Fine then, what brought you here? Was it those shadow beasts that attacked you?"

This time, she seemed to hesitate as she lowered the bowl ever so slightly. Meeting his gaze, she gave him an uncertain expression. Then, tremulously, she opened her mouth to speak. He didn't know what he had been expecting, but when nothing came out he felt a distinct droop in his chest. He wasn't the only one, though. Rather than appear distressed, however, she just gave him a peculiar look before turning back to her stew. He thought he saw her cheeks color. He felt his stomach drop.

"You…you can't speak…can you?"

Slowly, she shook her head. Then shrugged and put the bowl of stew down. It was already empty. Talk about hungry.

Trying to dissipate the suddenly awkward sort of gloom, he reached for her bowl. "Would you like some more?"

But she didn't move. She didn't even give any indication that she had heard him.

"Can you write, at least? I have some paper up in the loft you can write with."

He took the hopeful look she gave him as a yes and jumped to his feet to get it. Once the pencil and paper were in her hands she handled them uncertainly. Then, as though etching a piece of art, she carefully scratched down some messy letters and handed the paper to him with her face bowed.

'I know not what to say.' it read.

"How about just your name, then?"

She took back the paper from him.

'I know not my name. And to your other question, the shadow beasts did chase me here,' the pencil jerked as a she seemed to have a thought, her mouth growing tight. 'How do you know of the shadow beasts? I dealt with them.'

Link raised his eyebrow. "Dealt with them? Well, you must not know much about them, then. You can't leave a single one standing. You have to kill them all at once or else the last one resurrects the others and go chasing after other nummy folk, such as yours truly."

For the first time, her face twisted into annoyance. She practically tore the paper from his grasp to scribble, 'Of course I know that. I was sure I got the last two at the same time.'

"How? I'm sorry, but I don't see any sword or weapon on you. Whatever you're using isn't very affective."

She pouted at him, but when he gave back the paper she just held the pencil over the page. After a few seconds she dropped the pencil to the side and sighed. From behind her the white wings rose ever so slightly to enfold her shoulders like a cape. He watched this with a sense of wonder.

"I don't mean to be rude, but, what exactly are you?"

The girl followed his gaze to her wings and tucked them back behind her self-consciously. With quivering hands she took up the pencil and wrote: 'Aren't I human?'

The question was so odd he didn't know how to respond. At his silence she grew ill at ease. Her feathers fluffed about her and her eyes sparkled with oncoming tears. He panicked.

"Don't cry! It's okay! You look human-ish enough. It's just…I don't know any humans with wings. Not that they aren't lovely or anything. Oh man, I'm just digging a hole for myself, aren't I?"

A few tears trickled down her cheeks. He felt his stomach twist.

"You…you don't know what you are either, do you?"

Hands clenching her skirts, she shook her head.

"Do you know anything about yourself?"

Her eyes flashed and she automatically reached for the pencil again. He waited as she considered the paper before her. Then, after wiping at her face, she moved to put the pencil back down on the floor. She wouldn't meet his eye.

"Do you know anything?"

She nodded hesitantly.

"Then why don't you tell me? I may not look like it, but I could help you."

She quickly jotted down something on the paper and handed it to him. He read it eagerly, but was disappointed on how little it gave.

'I know you could.'

Just that line told him he wouldn't get anymore out of her that night. He scratched the back of his head and gave his own tired sigh. This whole situation had just gone from confusing to downright rude. Whatever goddess had chosen to throw this at him obviously overestimated his ability to solve puzzles. With that in mind, he couldn't help but ask one last question.

"Um, this might seem prying, but does whatever you're not telling me have to do with the goddesses? Or maybe why the moon spirit missing?"

Silence. He lowered the arm scratching his head to raise his view and saw her staring at him intently with an expression he couldn't read. Her lips quivered ever so slightly, as though dying to breathe out words to him. He held his breath. Her wings even lifted ever so slightly.

Then, all too soon, her eyes were back to the floor and her lips were pressed into a tight line. It made him want to bash his head again. At least Midna had been a talker. Wait, where did that thought come from? Him relating Midna to this winged girl because they kind of were calls to adventures? This wasn't an adventure. The girl would probably haunt his village for the rest of her life or until she remembered something. She could raise pumpkins and flutter around and…yeah, he should go to bed. He was losing it.

Rubbing his eyes and feeling every sleepy protest from them, he said, "Well then, how about we give you a name? I'm not too fond of calling you 'hey you', if you know what I mean."

The corner of her mouth twitched. Her lips were pink like almost ripe cherries. He shook the thought from his mind. All he needed now to screw his life up more was to get poetic about a bird girl.

"How about…Sarah? That's a pretty normal name."

She frowned.

"Danea?"

A pink tongue poked out.

"Marion?"

She full on scowled at this one. He pushed the paper to her.

"Very well. What do you suggest?"

For a whole minute she stared at the paper, thinking hard. In the end, however, she conceded to him for her naming by pushing the paper back. For the next fifteen minutes or so he walked names by her and watched the various creative ways she came up with to say no. Some of her expression made him smile while others made him laugh as he hadn't for a long time. He could like this girl. As they talked her wings relaxed out of their fold till they hung out the sides of her like frog legs.

On his last limb for names, he looked up where his sole window stood high up in a whimsical wish for his bed. The dark sky reminded him of how he had thought her the moon spirit. An idea came to him with that.

"How about," he looked back to her, "Luna."

At long last a wide smile dimpled her cheeks. She leaned forward on her knees. Before he knew what was happening she kissed him full on the lips and rocked back onto her blanket bed. His mouth tingled. He blinked hard. Did that really just happen? That had been…unexpected? Looking at her blushing, but happy face, he decided to not think about it. It was ostentatiously late after all.

"Luna it is."