AUTHOR'S NOTE

Another update? In the same month!? What is this witchcraft!?

I feel like the quality of this chapter isn't up to par with the previous two, but I just wanted it to be done, you know?

I'm going to try and include some image links for character concepts, just so you guys can get an idea of how they look in this fic - especially important with some characters, as I've changed their visual appearance quite a bit, haha.

CHAPTER THREE - Kindling

Malon reentered existence with a splitting pain wracking her skull, wrapped tightly in bedsheets. She burrowed deeper into them, seeking their refuge and somehow hoping that they might swallow the pain that blossomed at the back of her head. Something seemed off about her bed today, however. After some careful thought, Malon realized what it was; where her bed was made with wool and linens, these sheets were constructed of cloth. And then there was the smell. While not unpleasant, the earthy, faintly minty scent was distinctly not her own. The realization that she was in a stranger's bed woke her up with a start, and she sat upright in the bed.

The beating of her own heart in her ears sent jolts of pain through her head, but Malon pushed through it to take in the details of her surroundings. The room she was in was dark - when had the sun set? She managed to make out the wooden grain of the walls and the floors, which continued seamlessly into the shapes of crude furnishings. It would appear she was in a hollowed out tree… Slipping carefully out of the bed, she crept towards a curtained doorway opposite the room from her in an attempt to confirm her suspicions. Movement out of the corner of her eye stopped her however, and she gasped in alarm. A person had been sitting in a chair nearby, unbeknownst to her until now.

"Don't go out," the stranger spoke, a man judging by the tone of his voice. "There's monsters afoot at night, they'll be gone by dawn."

Malon blinked. "I… All right," she said finally, deciding not to argue with the man or the pain in her head. She tried to make her way back to the bed but stumbled over the table in the centre of the room. As she was about to fall over, the stranger was there in an instant, catching Malon with strong hands.

"Sorry," she mumbled quickly, colour flooding her cheeks; she was never so uncoordinated as this.

"Don't apologize," said the man, leading her back towards the bed. "You hit your head quite hard. I'm going to light a lantern, cover your eyes." Malon did as she was told, thankful for the warning; after spending so long in the dark she was unsure her eyes would appreciate a sudden brightness. She could hear the scrape of flint and the gentle crackling of a fire being born, and even behind her closed lids and her fingers shielding them Malon could see the faint glow of orange light.

"Okay, move your hands and open your eyes… slowly," the stranger warned. Malon did so, feeling the slight shock in her eyes as they took in the light. For the first time, she managed to see the person she was speaking to, and found herself… disappointed. He was hooded, and she could see only the faintest outline of his face within the dark shadows concealing it.

"You should be fine," he said suddenly, pulling her from her thoughts. He stood and strode across the room to pull back a curtain from a hidden window, peering outside. "You'll likely suffer a headache a little while longer, but you seem undamaged for the most part. Stay here, try and get some more sleep. The more you sleep, the better you'll feel."

Malon blinked, a sudden memory returning to her. Her father's face flooded her mind and her chest filled with panic, realizing that while she had spent hours sleeping Talon remained in terrible danger. "No, no, I can't," she interjected. "My father - I have to go."

"No," said the man, turning to face her again. "You need rest, and it is not safe outside."

Malon pulled a face, growing irritated by the insubordination. Who was this man to lecture her on what was safe? "You don't understand!" she protested, rising from the bed. "My father - my ranch was attacked, Ganondorf - "

At the mention of the exile king, the stranger seemed to spring to attention. "Ganondorf?" he repeated blankly, but Malon would not be interrupted.

" - attacked my ranch, threatened my father and I, dead things everywhere, I have to warn the queen! That's why I'm here, I wasn't fleeing a mob of monsters for no reason whatsoever. You have no idea what's not safe outside. I'm not scared of a couple monsters, but I am scared for my father, and whatever that man has in store for the queen. I need to leave now."

The man said nothing for a moment. "He's returned then," he said quietly, almost too quietly for Malon to hear.

"I beg your pardon?" she responded, squinting.

"He's returned," the man repeated. He turned to make his way towards the door, and for a moment Malon thought he was about to leave. Instead, he merely reached for the curtains, pausing before his fingers quite touched the fabric. His hesitation halted his movements, and he gave up altogether after a moment's pause. Still with his back to Malon, he withdrew his hood, revealing a head of blonde hair.

"Do you remember me, Malon?" he asked softly. Malon jumped at her own name, for she could not recall having given it. She narrowed her eyes as he turned his head slightly, the profile of his face becoming visible in the dim lantern light. Something about the angle of his jaw and the shape of his nose was distinctly familiar to her, and she was transported by the sudden nostalgia the man's face evoked within her.

A young boy clad in green, a bewildered expression on his adventure-hungry face, a light blue orb of light that followed him, yammering about in his ear… Fairy boy.

"Fairy boy?" Malon asked tentatively, feeling foolish for remembering the nickname before his real name - Link.

Link chuckled slightly at the term of endearment, nodding slowly. Finally, he turned to face her, and Malon's nostalgic surprise became shock. Almost everything about him matched up with her memories, albeit having aged with him; the bright green tunic had been replaced with a longer one of muted colour, and his once short hair was now past his collarbones. But his face… She had remembered a pair of blue eyes, but now there was only one. The other was missing, only an empty black hole in the side of his face to signify that it had ever been there.

Her shock did not go unnoticed. Link bit his lip, turning to hide his damaged face. "It's been a long time," he said simply, as if it could be an all-encompassing explanation for their time spent apart and the state of his visage.

"I…" Malon started, trailing off as she realized she did not know what to say. As it happened, she didn't need to speak.

"If Ganondorf has returned, you'd best make your way to Hyrule Castle as soon as dawn arrives," Link explained. "The queen will need this information. You can't travel now, though. Epona can only evade so many of the monsters, and you need to heal before you can head out again on your own."

"Come with me, then I won't be on my own," Malon half-suggested, half-pleaded stubbornly. She was unsure of what hour it was now, but she knew in her heart that her delay would already have cost her. It was time she could not afford to have lost, and she desperately wished to make up for it.

"I… I can't," Link said.

"Why not?" Malon protested, gesturing to the outside world. "You saved my life, Link. I didn't see it but I know you did. I was surrounded by Stalfos without a horse, I should've died. I… It'd be easier heading to Hyrule if I knew someone like you had my back out there."

"I can't," Link insisted, his voice flat and stern. "I don't belong there."

"You hardly belong here isolated from the world," Malon muttered.

Link turned to face her, the glare he shot her somehow magnified by the empty hole in his face. "Get some sleep," he snapped. "You'll need it."

Malon frowned, words aching on the edge of her tongue. She decided against lashing out at him, instead quietly saying, "Goodnight, Link, thank you," without bothering to keep her disappointment out of her tone. She pulled the bedcovers over herself again, and within minutes she was fast asleep once more.

The ranch was a humble place, built almost entirely of cobblestone, plaster, and aged wood. The clockwork ligaments of Ganondorf's mechanical right hand drummed against the grain of the dining room table as he pondered how best to proceed.

Ingo had been most accommodating in providing Ganondorf with new followers, but he had failed to consider that the workers of Lon Lon Ranch had wills of their own. After the owner's daughter had fled, presumably to be killed by his Stalfos, the other employees were filled with delusions of grandeur. Their lifeless bodies burned now, any evidence of their flight lost in the smoke that trailed from the bonfire out back. Not all of them had balked, of course; Ganondorf had been left with five willing to cooperate.

"Master Ganondorf, if I might inquire… why is this magic necessary?" Ingo asked, his voice annoyingly sweet as he pandered. Ganondorf glanced over at his colleague, disinterested in the man's concerns over his new face. The magic had worked well on him; his metal face shone in the dim firelight, highlighting the angles of a new, strong body.

"I can't have my followers be weak," Ganondorf explained simply. "What use are you to me if you're dismembered five minutes into this venture?"

"I understand entirely, your Grace," Ingo replied, "but why… this particular magic?"

Ganondorf rolled his eyes, growing weary of Ingo's pestering. "The clockwork enchantments of my mage will be a defensive strategy the queen will not see coming," he explained smoothly.

"Why is only your arm affected by it, your Grace?" Ingo asked tentatively after a moment's silence.

Ganondorf eyed him warily. "My arm needed replacing, Ingo," he returned coldly. "The rest of me is perfectly capable of leading this country." And a mechanical hand is a thousand times more likely to be able to hold the Master Sword than my own, he thought grimly.

"Right, of course," Ingo agreed quickly, nodding his head. Already his joints creaked and clicked with the material of his new body; pathetic. "Forgive my intrusions, your Grace."

Ganondorf dismissed the man with a wave of his hand. "Think nothing of it, Ingo. You may leave, now." It was hardly a suggestion so much as it was an order. The other man bowed dutifully and left the room, leaving Ganondorf alone to his thoughts… well, almost.

Ruber sauntered into dining room, raising an eyebrow in the direction of the doorway Ingo had exited out of. "I don't care for him," he muttered plainly, chewing on one of his cracked nails.

"I know you don't," Ganondorf snorted, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms over his broad chest. "You should remember however that I didn't care for you at first either, Ruber." The man known as Sir Ruber had been exiled from Hyrule back when Zelda's father had ruled the land as king; the selfishness of the knight was legendary, only slightly less infamous as the long list of crimes against the crown that he had been banished for. Admittedly Ganondorf had never anticipated allying himself with this man; the lank ginger hair and rather troubling twitch to the man's face had been off-putting at first, and when coupled with his frankly unpleasant demeanour Ganondorf had almost written him off at first sight.

Then Ganondorf had lost his arm; he remembered staring blankly at the glistening stump in the dim light, disbelief freezing him to the spot. He had never been bested before in a fight, and yet the assassins of Taroch had succeeded. He barely escaped with his life, and certainly not without a grim reminder of his arrogance. Regrettably, he owed Ruber his life.

Pulling a seat away from the table, Ruber sat down and leaned forward, grinning at Ganondorf. "Most don't," he agreed. "Difference is I pull my weight, and I've been useful… unlike that twit."

Where he had gained the knowledge of such a complex and unique magic, Ganondorf could only imagine, but the fact remained that Ruber was exactly the mage he needed to assist him in his conquest. Ruber wove clockwork gears and iron bars into moving, organic parts as easily as one might construct a fine garment, and he did so with a similar grace and attention to detail. It was Ruber who had constructed the replacement arm Ganondorf had now, and he could not lie and say it had not served him well.

"Endlessly useful, Sir Ruber," Ganondorf agreed.

"I'm not a knight anymore, Ganondorf," Ruber reminded him, sighing. "I'm going to be a king, I am."

Ganondorf smiled and nodded, and Ruber returned the expression. That was one complication in their unlikely partnership; Ganondorf could not persuade Ruber to follow him, and thus had gained this particular ally through the promise of worshipping Ruber as his true king. What a pity it will be to kill you after you've been so helpful to me, he pondered wistfully. You won't even see it coming.

Then again, Ganondorf had the feeling that Ruber knew exactly what to expect from him. It was highly likely that this was the very reason their partnership thrived - at the end of the day, the two men knew that neither could rule with the other by their side.

The morning light peaked through the curtains covering the windows in Link's hut, shining just brightly enough to rouse Malon from her slumber. Shifting in the bedcovers, she opened her eyes wearily and scanned the room. Somehow the shadows from the night before had made the room seem larger and more foreboding. In the morning light, however, the little house was cozy and warm, humble in size and furnishings.

As she sat up in the bed, Malon noticed that someone had left a change of clothes and a satchel at the foot of it; likely Link, she thought. Checking to make sure no one was around, she changed quickly. The cotton fabrics were foreign to her skin and the green tunic was far too long, but she appreciated the clean clothes. Rolling her dress up tightly, she shoved it inside the satchel and pulled it over her shoulder. Link had likely already left; sighing, Malon adjusted the borrowed clothes and left the hut, finding herself on a little balcony built into an alarmingly tall tree.

She'd never been in the woods before, but even in her wildest dreams of them Malon would not have imagined this place. She was in a village shrouded by the treetops, wooden buildings and children in green everywhere she looked. Little orbs of light seemed to follow each of them, and she was reminded of the name she had given Link.

To her surprise, he had not vanished. He waited on the ground, Epona at his side. Malon clambered down the nearby ladder to reach him, shocked and excited that he hadn't abandoned her yet. He turned to face her, and she took in his appearance in the daylight, his blonde hair now tied back to expose his face.

Malon had hoped that the shadows had made the damage look worse than it was, but the sunlight disappointed her. The thick scars down the side of Link's face were deep and jagged, years old perhaps and still not quite old enough to have faded to white. His eyelid, seemingly forever a purple shade, had been sealed shut, but the shadows cast by his brow made it appear as if Malon were staring into an empty hole in the right side of his face.

Otherwise, she thought, he might've been quite handsome. The fairy boy had grown tall and lean in the years since she had seen him, and he stood before Malon now wearing gear she could only assume was intended for travelling; a thick green tunic and a satchel much like her own, a small sword strapped to his back. She forced her eyes away from his face, turning to stroke Epona's mane.

"Good morning," she said pleasantly, her greeting not really directed at either Link or the mare.

Link nodded in reply. "How's your head?" he asked. Malon didn't dare look at him, else she find herself staring at his scars again, but out of the corner of her eye she could read the concern on his face. He gestured for her to mount Epona, and she did so without arguing. Riding Epona made Malon feel safer than walking about the forest floor did.

"It's fine," she assured him. "The rest helped, you were right. I'm… I'm sorry if I seemed stubborn last night. I was very upset about what happened with my father."

"You have every right to be," Link replied, nodding again. "Ganondorf is not to be trifled with. I hope you didn't think I was belittling your plight by insisting we wait before departing."

Malon raised an eyebrow as she gazed down at him. "We?" she repeated, a smirk curling at the edges of her lips.

Link turned away as he tugged at Epona's reigns, leading the horse away from his treehouse. "I… I admit that I was perhaps too stubborn last night, myself," he murmured. "I wouldn't wish a fight alone against Ganondorf on anyone in the world. It wasn't fair of me to expect you to go it alone."

Malon frowned. "What do you mean?" she asked. "You speak as if you know him."

Blinking, Link shook his head. "I know of him," he corrected her, though Malon was not convinced. They carried on in silence until a small boy began following them.

"Link!" he cried, jogging to keep up with Epona and Link's pace. "Link! Link, you good for nothing… You know the rules about outsiders!"

Link shot him a bored glance. "She stayed with me the entire time, Mido," he replied dryly. "She was hardly a threat to anyone. You know the real danger lies in those who become lost."

"Is she a Kokiri?" Mido demanded, puffing his cheeks out. It seemed he was aiming to be intimidating, but with his bright red hair and freckles he hardly passed. It didn't help that he barely reached Link's hip.

"Am I?" Link shot back. Mido seemed to contemplate his answer for a moment before responding.

"We'll see what Saria has to say about this," he grumbled, crossing his arms. "Maybe you'll listen to her."

"You make a good point Mido, and you've actually reminded me of something," Link returned. "Have you seen her? I need to speak with her… it's somewhat important."

Mido shrugged, glancing to his right. "She's not back from Castletown yet," he said. "I don't know, she should arrive home by tomorrow, according to what she said. Those queensguard meetings are always inconsistent, you know how it is."

The word "queensguard" set off an unpleasant sensation in Malon's chest, and she swallowed the sudden emotion that rose in her throat at the thought of her mother. Link didn't seem to notice and carried on. "That's too bad," he murmured. "Thank you, Mido."

"You're - hey, get back here!" Mido shouted, but Link was already leading Epona through a hollowed out tree trunk set into a hill, seemingly an exit from the forest. After a few moments of silence, Malon spoke up.

"You know, I read that the Kokiri were a myth," she said quietly, teasing a strand of hair between her fingers. "My mother used to tell me that children who got lost in the woods were adopted by a tree spirit who guarded them for eternity."

Link did not respond immediately, and it wasn't until an orange figure streamed past and collided with him that she realized why. Link crashed to the floor, a small person clothed in streams of red, orange, and green sitting on his chest.

"Where are you going?" the creature asked. At first Malon had thought it was another little boy like Mido, but she saw now its face was wooden, its arms and legs resembling sticks. Malon blinked in surprise, alarmed by the creature's inhuman appearance.

"I'm going on a trip," Link replied, clearly grouchy after being knocked over. He sat up, causing the little creature on his chest to roll off onto his lap.

"Lies," the creature insisted. "You never go out." It looked as if it were about to say more but stopped, having noticed Malon staring at it. Alarmed, it scrambled to hide behind Link. "I thought you were the only adult here," it whispered, almost too quiet for Malon to hear.

"I am, she's only a visitor," Link explained. When the creature didn't move immediately, he added, "She's a friend, don't worry."

"What… what is that?" Malon asked tentatively. The creature peered over at her from behind Link, its curiosity clearly overpowering its desire to flee.

"He's a skull kid," Link explained, craning his neck around to look at the little person hiding behind him. "He… well, the stories you heard about the Kokiri don't exactly cover these guys, but a lot of the kids who get lost in the woods…"

Malon's heart swelled with sympathy as she realized what Link was saying. "Oh…" she breathed, biting her lip. "I'm sorry."

The skull kid stepped out from behind Link finally, though it appeared to be constantly ready to bolt at the slightest movement. "It's okay," it said quietly. "I don't really remember anything before I came here. It's just… lonely sometimes. Link doesn't visit me as much as he used to. No one does."

Link stood up, dusting off his tunic. "I visit you," he insisted. "You forget that your perception of time is vastly different from mine, being one who doesn't age." The skull kid made a face that distorted its beak, and Malon thought for a moment that if it had been human, it would have been sticking its tongue out at him.

"Why don't you come along with us, then?" Malon suggested. Link looked as if he was about to interject, but she carried on. "You're welcome to follow us, we're headed to Castletown to speak with the queen."

The skull kid stared up in awe before responding finally. "You mean that? I can go on an adventure?"

"If we're calling it that," Link muttered, but Malon paid him no mind.

"You can most certainly come along on an adventure with us," she replied sweetly.

"Oh boy, oh boy, oh boy!" the skull kid cried, leaping into the air and landing in front of Malon on Epona. The mare appeared startled, but Malon leaned to stroke the horse until she was calm again. "Say, what's your name, lady? I mean… you're an adult, but you seem cool enough. I think we can be friends."

Malon blinked; being referred to as an adult was strange to her, though not unpleasant. "Malon," she replied. "What's your name?"

"Don't got one," the skull kid said, shrugging its shoulders. "Malon, Malon, Malon… I've never heard a name like that before."

"That'll happen when you never leave the woods," Link commented dryly, leading Epona along once more.

"No name, huh?" said Malon. "Well, that just won't do. I think I'll call you Skully for now."

The skull kid blinked, tapping its chin thoughtfully. "Skully," it repeated. "Skully, Skully, Skully… Yeah, it's okay, I guess."

Link shook his head, but Malon managed to catch the faintest chuckle from him. They carried on through the forest, the silence permeated by Skully's incessant banter; Malon was unsure of when the skull kid had first wandered into the forest, but judging by what he remembered of the world outside of it, she managed to ascertain that he had been in here a frightfully long time.

After about twenty minutes, another voice entered the mix. Link stopped, perking up at the sound and turning wildly as he searched for it. "Did you hear that?" he asked, squinting.

Skully cupped its little hands over its ears - or rather, where Malon imagined its ears would be if it had any. She strained her own ears, the lightest sound becoming apparent…

"Link!" a voice called out in the distance. A young girl with green hair was running towards them, and judging by Link's reaction Malon could only assume they were acquainted. "Link, stop! I have to talk to you!"

"Saria!" Link called back, beaming. "I was hoping to speak to you as well, there's-"

"It can wait," Saria cut him off, waving her hand. "Something awful has happened, something at the castle."

Link expression darkened, his brows knitting together. "What happened? Is Zelda okay?"

Saria paused, biting her lip. "She's hurt," she admitted, "but that's not all. We were deciding a suitable place to keep the…" Saria appeared to notice Malon for the first time. "I'm sorry, how rude of me, I haven't introduced myself…"

"It's fine, the formalities can wait," Malon insisted, shaking her head. "Please, tell us what happened."

Saria hesitated again before apparently deciding she could explain what had happened around Malon. "The ocarina, we were… we were deciding who would be best suited to take care of it, now that the queen will likely be wed and with child in the coming months. The meeting was ambushed though, a phantom appeared in the council room and attacked us. The queen was injured, but the phantom… it took the Ocarina."

Link's expression was stony, but Malon could see the slightest hint of despair in his eye. "The… phantom, you said," he replied, his voice sounding weak and very far away. "Was it… it wasn't him, was it?"

Saria nodded slowly. "We need you again, Link," she whispered softly. "If Ganondorf has obtained the ocarina, he cannot be allowed to gather the spiritual stones. You must collect them, make sure that they are safe - Ganondorf can't find them again, he just can't."

Skully pouted, crossing its arms over its chest. "There are four of us here," it pointed out petulantly. "Feel free to include us in the conversation."

Malon frowned, glancing back and forth between Saria and Link. "Skully makes a good point," she agreed. "What's this about Ganondorf? I thought he was still at my ranch… He can't have been in two places at once. And what are you talking about, ocarinas and spiritual stones? What's going on?"

Saria bit her lip, as if realizing she had said too much. Link looked as if he might be sick, shaking his head just slightly.

"She deserves to know, Link," said Saria, her voice a soft whisper. "If Ganondorf attacked her, she's as much a part of this as any of us." Link shot her a pained expression, but offered no argument. Saria turned to Malon, searching her face. It was now that Malon saw that while Saria appeared as a young child, her eyes seemed infinitely older than Malon thought possible. "Malon, there's something you need to know about Ganondorf and his quarrel with the queen. And there's something you need to know about Link, too."