Adjectives

They made good time despite the unpredictable footing, reaching the stony roots of the range in just two days. The next morning they started climbing the pass and by mid-afternoon the village was in sight. It sat in a clearing with no incline, speckled with sturdy houses and fire pits. The air smelled of smoke and roasting meats. His heart thrummed uncomfortably in his chest as he scanned the area, absorbed in the faces that turned inquisitively at their arrival. They dismounted and some children took their horses; the moment felt strangely ethereal. He'd spent all winter envisioning this day, and thus far it wasn't remotely as he'd imagined it. Every muscle in his body and every thought in his brain urged him to turn back, second-guessed every decision he tried to make, aimed to cripple him with uncertainty, but he forced his legs to carry him.

"Auru," bellowed an unfamiliar, booming voice. A man with black hair the color of raven plumes and a streak, snow-colored, running from hairline to nape waved from atop the three steps that led to his front door. The man favored one leg greatly, leaning upon a weathered old crutch. "I thought you'd never come!"

At the base of his stairs, hand-feeding a furry creature he'd never seen before but in books, knelt Ashei, and he felt the fire that could not be doused suddenly wash out of him. He had grown so used to its presence that to have it wrestled away was startling. She eyed him curiously as the two older men reunited; he didn't hear a word of their greeting; it was drowned out by the blood rushing through his ears. He commanded his legs forward again as they struggled to disobey. She rose and met him half way across the expanse between them.

"Shad. I didn't hear you were coming this way," she said. He had to force himself to exhale steadily. It had been so long since he'd heard his name on her voice; he'd forgotten how tremulous it made him feel. "What are you doing in the pass?"

How quickly a thousand lies jumped into his mind, each one sounding more plausible than the next! He had to beat them all down, strangle the urge to hold back, to save face. She deserved the truth, no matter how ridiculous it made him seem. "Actually," he said, his voice sounding so much stronger than he felt, "I came to see you."

There it was, in the open; well, part of it, and if she were audacious she could fill in the rest. Everything he dreaded most had the potential to come together into one hideous nightmare at this crucial moment. It was the crossroads of his existence as he knew it, and he had stepped out into it like an intrepid fool. Then, in a merciful and truly unexpected gesture, she smiled. His heart became a bird in his ribcage.

"Ashei!" the voice boomed again; this time he was waving them inside the house. Auru had already disappeared, his silhouette barely visible before their fireplace.

"Come inside," Ashei suggested, gathering up the furry animal that was trying to climb her leg and letting it perch its long, lithe body over her shoulders and behind her neck. "I'll introduce you to my father, yeah?"

"Yes," Shad said, feeling whole again like he hadn't felt in nearly a year. "I'd like that." He refrained from adding "immensely," with some effort.

She led him up the steps, letting the creature crawl down her arm and scamper across the floorboards towards the sitting area where Auru and her father already were. Its short legs gave it an amusing, rocking gait that made Auru smile as he invited it onto his lap. Shad ran a hand through his damp hair, more out of his element than he had ever been and feeling completely ignorant of it. He watched her move, so graceful and resigned, across the room; her raven hair was knotted behind her head, her bangs shoved to one side, the long shirt and leggings she wore a simple combination of earthy browns. Her bare hands, which he was seeing now for the first time, were more feminine than he would have imagined, given her prowess with weapons.

She greeted Auru with a simple head nod and then proceeded with the introductions. "Father," she said as he slowly eased himself into a chair, juggling the arm rests and his crutch, "This is Shad. Another member of the Resistance." There it was again – his name, spilling off her tongue. Each time she said it, it felt as though he had never heard it before, a word foreign and tantalizing.

"It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance," Shad said quickly, awkwardly offering his hand as he pulled himself out of his thoughts of the man's daughter. Her father gripped firmly and gave him his undivided attention for about a second; he'd never felt a second so long.

"It's Kroe. Auru says good things about you."

"That's very kind of him," Shad muttered when the animal abandoned Auru's lap in favor of standing on its hind legs and resting its paws on his thighs. It was shaped like an otter, but had sharp teeth and claws that didn't lend themselves to its otherwise overwhelming cuteness. "Um. And this is?"

"Lera," Ashei explained, picking her up and cradling her in the crook of her arm.

He tried not to stare, but it was difficult. He took a seat on the couch next to Auru across from Kroe and Ashei knelt in front of the fireplace with Lera in her arms. The older men reminisced for hours, using Shad as an excuse to retell their favorite stories. Ashei got up near sunset to make dinner wordlessly and served them all without interrupting. Darkness slid over the windows and through the glass into the house until only the fireplace was lit and everything else cast long shadows. Auru and Kroe didn't seem anywhere near through; Ashei, her back pressed against one side of the hearth, gestured for him to leave the couch and sit with her. He left the conversation as discreetly as he could; the others didn't seem to notice. When he had knelt on the floor beside her she passed Lera into his arms and grinned when he struggled with her mass a little. Eventually Lera curled in the square of his arms and laid her head back so he could stroke her soft chin. The orange cloth of the fire shuddered and snapped, splashing light and shadows over the three of them. Aside from the occasional guffaw, Auru and Kroe kept their conversation to a dull murmur.

Lera purred. Shad looked up slowly; Ashei was watching the flames dance on his spectacles. He had nothing to say, for once, but the silence didn't bother him nearly as much as it should have. He was too comfortable to care. He imagined it wasn't the flames on his glasses she was watching, but his eyes.

"She likes you," Kroe muttered. Shad nearly swallowed his tongue and quickly averted his gaze from Ashei's to stare at him. Then he realized he meant Lera. "She doesn't usually take to strangers like that."

There was a strange lull to the rhythm of mountain life that Shad couldn't put his finger on; perhaps it was Ashei that was making him so complacent. If that was the case, he didn't know how he could face going back to the empty commotion of the city without her. He would ask her to come; he would find some way to do it without sounding completely ridiculous. He winced as he practiced in his head. Ashei noticed.

"What?"

Shad brought himself back to the present and met her rapt eyes. He shook his head a little and turned to watching his fingers scratch Lera's chin. "I was just thinking about what a fool I am."

"It would take a man greater than a fool to realize that he is one," she disagreed. "What fueled that train of thought?"

"You'll laugh if I tell you," he promised.

"Good. I love to laugh."

That wasn't the traditional response, but then again this was Ashei. It made him smile. What made people so paranoid about saying what they really thought that they devoted an entire social form to what should be said instead? What constituted the bounds of etiquette? She would never demonstrate that kind of conformity. He would never want her to. He liked knowing that he could always believe that whatever came out of her mouth was the same as what sprouted in her head. Trying to differentiate between the two was taxing, and sometimes frightening, especially when it came to women. He wished he could be as honest as she was.

He began, smirking, "I was thinking – and this is a lie, by the way – that I've gone and made a nuisance of myself by coming to visit without telling you."

She accepted that reply with a crooked grin. "Couldn't handle being laughed at?"

"Not after such a long day," he conceded.

"Amuse me tomorrow then, yeah?"

The prospect of being with her the next day – and that she had indirectly asked him to be with her – thrilled him. He nodded, and their conversation reverted to silence again. A little later Ashei left to make up a place for him and Auru to sleep. When Kroe felt himself nodding off he retired, and the others followed suit. Village life started early; Auru and Shad woke to a laid out breakfast and an empty house.

"They'll be back in a little while," Auru said, sitting at the table and helping himself to the dried fruit, cheese, fish, and bread arranged in the center. "Kroe and I were going to spend some time on the lake today. You're more than welcome to join us – you can bring a book if you aren't interested in the fishing, but I can't guarantee you'll be able to read over all the noise we'll make. I'm sure Ashei would show you around the village if you say please. You picked a feisty one, if you don't mind my saying so."

Shad flushed a little as he nibbled on a wedge of cheese. "I wonder about the kind of mess I've gotten myself into coming all this way," he confessed. "You know she hardly knew I existed but for all the time I spent helping Link into the City in the Sky."

"Kroe would have something to say about that," Auru mused. "Ashei's mother was beautiful, among a hundred other good qualities, but she had so little in common with him, and he only coveted her from afar for years. She was a city girl, used to luxury and intimidated by a lot of dirt, and Kroe worked in her father's stables, while he squired, for a little extra money. She never even noticed him. But he kept at it. And soon she was living in the mountains, among the woodsmen and barbarians! Her family couldn't believe it." He chuckled, watching memory. "But she loved him."

"Ashei would hate the city," Shad frowned absently.

"She sticks around to help her father," Auru murmured, "but I don't think she's fond of the simplicity here. Young people want adventure. Old people do, too, but we get tired too easily." Lera pounced on the table out of nowhere, snagged a fish between her teeth, and cantered away. Auru smirked, unperturbed. "Relax, Shad. Lera likes you, and as I understand it she has excellent taste in men. That has to count for something."

"I only wish I had your confidence, old friend." He tilted his chair back on its rear legs gently, staring out a window. Lera's claws sounded on the floorboards as she pounced back a few minutes later and she scrambled up to Shad's shoulders, forcing him to lower his chair to keep his balance. He decided he wasn't hungry. "I suppose I'm off to explore. Thank you."

Auru nodded as he dug into the loaf. Shad stood and headed outside, squinting when the warm sunlight struck his face. Ashei was splitting wood on one of the community blocks just beyond her yard and Kroe was helping one of the neighbors steady a nervous colt for the shoer. She even made splitting logs look like a dance. Shad sat on the grass, Lera still crouching on his shoulder. Once Ashei was done with all the wood in her pack she stowed it again and headed back towards the house. Under the sunlight her hair shone the most brilliant ebony he'd ever seen. When she got near she slung the bundle off her back, laid it against the house, grabbed her bow and quiver near the staircase, and squatted next to him.

"I was wondering where you got off to," she told Lera, offering her an arm to climb up, which she accepted. She said to Shad, "Come for a walk with me. I'll show you the mountain."

He didn't want to start the day off badly by opening his mouth and saying something stupid, so he just did as he was told and smiled. She pointed out the large barn that everyone in the village used; she showed him the wild mountain goats that they wrangled when it was milking time, unlike any Ordon goat he'd ever seen; she let Lera run amok through the budding prairies and picked him the sweetest smelling and the rarest wildflowers for him to inspect; she climbed a tall tree after Lera and threw down to him some of the strange fruits she found growing near the top, which, to his great delight, he caught. Finally she brought him to a jutting cliff overlooking a basin and its falls to rest. She undid her hair while he watched the water for a while and braided it, shrugging off her bow when it got in the way.

Shad laid on his back and listened to the hypnotizing rush. "Is there anything you don't know?" he teased, his eyes closed to the sun, unusually warm for an early spring day in the pass. "I've never met anyone who could show me so many things I've never seen."

"I'm sure your college taught you more interesting things, yeah?"

He turned his head to her, watching her fingers twirl expertly as she weaved her braid. He said honestly, "Not really."

"Don't be so gracious," she demanded, struggling with the tie at the end of her hair. "I know you think I'm uneducated." When he went to object, she interrupted, "It's ok; I think you're uneducated, too."

He only smiled, still wary of saying anything too moronic.

Her hair came undone at the end when she couldn't tie it fast enough and she started over. "The mountain is nice enough. It's home. But it gets boring, especially after joining the Resistance. Splitting wood is only entertaining for so long." She asked, holding the end of her braid behind her towards him, "Would you mind?"

He sat up, his hands moving towards her nape shakily. He pinched his brows angrily, mentally commanding them to be still. He took the tie from her with one hand and held the end of her silky hair with the other.

"Don't think me incompetent," she demanded. "It's a shorter tie than I'm used to."

"Oh," he chuckled irreverently, determinedly fastening her braid, "I think you many things, and incompetent is certainly not one of them."

"Like what?" she said when he was done, turning around to face him.

He knew he was going to say something brainless! He tried desperately to meet her eyes but had to keep looking away, feigning interest in the surroundings; her eyes burned him and he felt color rising to his ears. He grasped for something complimentary but not awkward and finally decided, glancing up cautiously, "Like, fascinating."

She tilted her head curiously. She said, in a mocking tone he thought was rude, "That's vague."

He retorted, "So are you."

It made her laugh. His heart raced at the sound of it; he loved it. He would make a fool of himself on a regular basis if it meant he could listen to it.

"Anything else?"

"Um," he hedged, unable to keep a nervous smile from his mouth. "Yes."

She rested her chin on her fist expectantly. He laughed quietly, trapped between the rock and the proverbial hard place. She seemed to have no trouble badgering him for information, which information could potentially reveal his shocking intentions at that, and here he had no immediate prospects of learning much about her. The fact that she was curious about what he thought of her at all was interesting, given that he knew her to care little about what others thought, but he tried to remain focused and converse strategically. His tactics may have been transparent, but his time constraints were forcing him to compromise.

"For every question you answer," he proposed slowly, "I'll offer another adjective."

"Fine," she decided after a moment's indecision. "I like games."

He laid back down while he thought of how to phrase into inquiries the dozens of things he was wondering about her in that particular moment. "How old were you when your father taught you archery? You're an excellent shot."

"Five."

"Five?" he blurted, gawking a little.

"It was the year my mother died."

"I see. Do you remember her much?" he asked, thinking of his own dead parent.

"Adjective," she demanded.

"Oh, right." He quickly paged through the surge of words in his head, most of which were incriminating. He smirked smugly, "Competent."

She scowled, and then said evenly, "Yes, I remember her. Adjective."

He laughed once and went through the new tumble of words. "Impressive." It was harmless enough.

She scoffed. "Like I haven't heard that one before."

"And what do you like to do for fun?" he went on, trying to sound casual as his level of engrossment steadily rose.

"Riding," she said without hesitation. "I trained my horse myself, from filly to mare. And reading."

He was surprised again. She was always surprising him. "Reading?"

"Just because I live in the mountains doesn't mean I don't know how to read, you Neanderthal."

"No, I meant… I didn't mean to imply you didn't know how," he explained. "You're just good at so many other things; I thought you might find reading boring."

"I miss your library," she admitted. She looked for just a second like she'd been caught confessing something awful and said, to change the subject at the very least, "Adjective."

"Complicated."

"Your adjectives are predictable."

"We could stop, if you like," he gambled.

She looked out to the waterfall. "Question."

He rejoiced inwardly; he'd never felt so triumphant. He dug a little deeper, masking what he really wanted to ask her with something much more informal. "If you miss the library, why don't you move to the city?"

She frowned pensively. "My father. He'd be alone if I left, and now that his leg's all busted the chores are harder for him. I know he could get on without me, but… I'd feel selfish leaving him for some books."

"I brought some books with me. You can have them."

"Adjective."

He stared at her thoughtfully for a moment. She would get angry with him for saying something that appeared obvious, but it was a new notion to him. "Selfless."

When she met his eyes she refrained from complaining. He couldn't hide the admiration when he said it, and it made the remark more than acceptable for some reason. "Next."

He needed something that would reveal more about her at once. She was leaving a breadcrumb trail for him that he was too impatient to follow. He tried the all-encompassing, "And what about your future? In, say, the next five years? Or ten?"

"With my father, I suppose, until… well, I'm not waiting for a knight in shining armor or any such idiotic notion. But if I come across the right person someday I'll marry. Maybe have a daughter and teach her to handle a sword as well as any boy. I want to spend some time with the Zoras. Their culture intrigues me." She paused, but he was waiting for more. She demanded stubbornly, "Adjective."

He shrugged. "Practical."

"I live with my father; one of us has to be."

"He seems a practical man," Shad objected.

"It isn't that he's impractical, exactly," she explained, her voice a tad quieter. "He just fails to think things through sometimes. He'd have me running off, deserting him and chasing every little thing that caught my interest like a child after a hare, because that's what he did at my age. He wants good things for me, and he pushes practicality aside when he thinks it stands in the way of my happiness. But it doesn't. I am happy."

"Are you?" He recognized the impudence of his own words too late. But it truly concerned him, whether or not she was. If she really was happy, then perhaps he had no business interfering with her situation. Her happiness was the most important thing.

"I'm happy to give something back to him, after all he's done for me," she replied. So her life had room for improvement, she seemed to imply; whether or not he had any business trying to steer her life in his direction was still another question, one he was afraid to answer. "Adjective."

He closed his eyes and listened to the rushing again. Talking to her made him feel alive. Every nerve in him was sensing differently. It was like he'd never breathed before; the air tasted sweeter, the sunlight felt softer. No other words came to mind.

He said, "Beautiful."

He tried inhaling the careless word as his mouth formed it to no avail. If he hadn't felt her eyes on him he would've smacked himself for blathering so thoughtlessly. Somehow it hadn't sounded incriminating in his head. He managed to keep his face still but was shouting at his stupidity on the inside. She said quietly, "I've heard that one before, too. But never from a scholar."

He wasn't sure what to make of her response. He tried to meet her eyes, but they were in her lap. Lera came bounding back from hunting rodents in the woods and used Shad's stomach as a springboard to Ashei's shoulder. It shoved the air out of him and Ashei laughed; something like a sigh washed over him again at the sound of it. He asked very quietly, "Shall I ask another?"

"No," she said. "Let's go back. I'm hungry."

She would run ahead often on the trek back to the village, to chase Lera or reach the crest of a hill to peek the view. The winds picked up, chilling him. When they reached the house the sun was setting and Auru and Kroe had already returned and were boiling a chowder. The smell of minced spices and fresh fish made Lera lethargic with hunger. Ashei skipped the small talk and went straight to her room. Kroe made a face when he heard her door snap shut but didn't accuse Shad of anything. She emerged later after everyone had taken a bowl and served herself some. She sat on the floor with Lera again even though there was room at the table and fed her meat between mouthfuls.

"How long are you staying?" Kroe asked, stirring his chowder.

"Two more days; three, if it rains," Auru said.

Shad felt his morale sink at the prospect of leaving. Then again, Ashei had clammed up after his witless remark and might have stayed mute for the rest of his visit for all he knew. Why hadn't he had the sense to keep quiet? It was too rewarding to be himself with her. Well. Except for now. He watched her feed scraps to her pet. His nerves were still livewires, only now they seemed attuned to the negative. He guessed silence was her version of dishonesty. To have the pleasure of her company wrested away from him felt unusually cruel. He stole a glance at her; she looked pensive. Her eyes suddenly flicked up to his and he set his face rigidly while he fought the urge to look away.

"How was the basin?" Kroe asked conversationally.

"Nice," she said, moving her fingers deftly before Lera's teeth snapped over them along with the fish they were holding.

"What do you think of our mountain, Shad?"

"It's outstanding," he said, ripping his eyes away from her begrudgingly. Stupid confines of city notions of politeness! He was such a slave to them. "Really; I've never seen anything like this place."

"You're welcome to stay longer, if your schedule allows," Kroe went on, letting his eyes slide gently towards his daughter to gauge her response. She didn't react; she was making Lera perform for her tidbits.

Shad beat back the obsessed part of him that was ready to leap for joy. He had no business subjecting them to his company any longer than Auru and he had to get back to reality sometime. How much longer could he really stay? Two more days? And what would that accomplish, if his time with Auru wasn't enough? "That's very kind of you. No, I think I need to get back to town soon." He smiled weakly, "Get back to a place where I feel educated."

"Education is nothing more than a fancy word for how familiar you are with your surroundings," Kroe said dismissively. He went on, and Shad got the distinct feeling Kroe wasn't talking to him, "Once you've learned everything there is to know about a place it's time to move on, or you won't get any smarter. Unless you're my age," he snorted, "then it's nobody's business how smart you are and you can do whatever in Nayru's name you please. But I hear you've done quite a bit of traveling, Shad. I understand you've done some impressive work."

"Following my father's notes, yes," he conceded, "wandering around looking for the answers that weren't in my library. They were all right in front of me; I just couldn't figure it out on my own. It turns out it was all of it much bigger than I was. I never would have been able to complete the puzzle if it hadn't been for Link. Imagine, two generations of exploration would have been rendered useless if Telma hadn't introduced me to just the right person." He stopped, thinking of someone she had introduced him to that felt even more right. He glanced at Ashei again. She was looking at him, too, like she'd been listening; he thought her eyes looked just a tad wider than they usually did. He stumbled in conclusion, "My part to play wasn't all that interesting. Auru shouldn't have made it sound exciting."

"I didn't hear from Auru," Kroe amended. "Ashei told me."

His voice drained out of him a little. More quietly, he muttered, "Ashei shouldn't have made it sound exciting."

The sun had gone down while they'd eaten and the moon was steadily climbing over the ridge. Auru stretched, rising from his chair. "If we're going to catch the big one, we should get an early start."

"Right," Kroe agreed, easing himself out of his chair and grabbing his crutch from the end of the table, "The big one! Don't wait up for us, kids."

"More fishing?" Shad exclaimed incredulously.

"We saw a Hylian Loach the size of the rowboat today," Auru smirked. "There's nothing like the thrill of the hunt – spying a fish you've got to have and waiting all day to catch it."

"Nothing like it – not when you're our age," Kroe muttered, hobbling towards the hall.

"Getting up before dawn," Auru continued whimsically, unperturbed, "sitting in the miserable cold and the early morning mist, drowning in dew, waiting all day for a fish that probably won't bite; there's nothing like it. It isn't a practical waste of time, but that hardly stops people from doing it."

"Fair enough," Shad breathed, bidding him goodnight. The house sounded eerily quiet while his heavy steps sounded down the hall. Ashei stood when his door closed and walked around the table, Shad's eyes trailing her every step, and took the seat next to him. He watched the side of her face while she settled Lera, who was mischievously gnawing on her fingers. His voice was hushed to match the volume of the house. "You seem preoccupied."

"I am," she answered just as quietly. "A little."

"I'm sorry if I spoke out of turn," his mouth twitched down. "It was stupid of me."

"You didn't say anything wrong," she explained. "But it was a surprise, hearing it from you."

His heart rushed in his chest for a few beats and then softened into a dull, quick throbbing. They were talking again, which he was happy for, but she'd admitted that it was what he'd said that had upset her, and that sent another vortex of questions spinning in his head. She seemed to have an affinity for baffling him. He let his curious nature take over, since restraint wasn't going to get him much of anywhere, not on his timetable. Saving face was sort of out the window already anyway. "Is a clumsy scholar really less apt to find you beautiful than any other man?"

"The dainty, blonde sophisticate would be more traditional," she hedged, leaning her chair back with one foot on the leg of the table.

A smile spread over his mouth at the notion; how could she think that there was any man that didn't find her irresistible? He couldn't wipe it off his face so he stopped trying and focused instead on submerging the urge to reach out and stroke her cheek. He let a small laugh escape his lips and said, "A woman like you dismisses tradition, I think."

She met his eyes and studied them; he wished she could see into his soul through them, see all the things he was feeling but wasn't brave enough to be forthright about. She said, "Come for a walk with me."

"It's dark," he objected, but she was already on her feet.

"The moon will be full tomorrow night," she said; she looked wistful. "The mountain really lights up in the moonlight."

As he had no desire to be parted from her, he went.