Hey buddies. Thanks everybody for reading, I'm getting lots of readers who are reading all the way through which makes me super happy. The worst is when I check the story stats and like everyone only read the first chapter of what I wrote. So sad. BUT, that is not the case with this story because I think I've found the best readers ever. Am I right? I do hope you enjoy this chapter as well :)

Don't you dare look out your window darling;

Everything's on fire

The war outside our door keeps raging on

We find ourselves tucked away into a corner on the floor, her back against one wall, mine against the other. Her legs rest in my lap as I unbind them, dipping a sponge in a bowl of cool water and dabbing it on the swollen gashes. There's a tin pot of a numbing salve I had stored away in a cupboard beside the bowl, imprints in the gelatinous substance from my fingers. I gently run my coated fingertips along the lengths of the marks in her skin, covering the open wounds.

She had waited patiently in the same place she sits in now while I had boarded up my windows, bracing them for later tonight, and I had joined her once I was finished, lifting her legs over mine to treat them. She barely winces, barely moves though I have to glance apologetically at her a couple times when I notice her toes flinch.

"I don't want to talk about it," she finally says quietly after some time, my concentration still fixed on the marks in her flesh, "because I know... I know we'll talk about it a lot later. But would you tell me what my dad said to you? What he said it was?"

I shift my gaze to her for a moment, pained at the thought of her bearing the knowledge I do. "He called it the Arnacht."

I swallow, waiting in silence as her knees bend, lifting them from my lap as she bows her head and clutches at the back of her hair. "Thank you for telling me," she mumbles, her voice thick.

Guilt churns in my stomach as I wonder if I should have told her or not. It's clear she knows what her father was referring to, it's clear she understands the consequences of it's chase. I reach gingerly and touch my hand to her unscathed knee, wishing I could find words to tell her how sorry I was. Her legs relax back into my lap, her white knuckles softening as she releases the grip on her hair and lets her head lean back against the wall, her eyes on the ceiling as silent tears form in her eyes. I avert my eyes from hers, returning them to the clean bandages by my side and wrap them around her calves.

I want to tell her that it won't touch her. But my lips don't move.

"I think it's best if Zelda stayed with you... if that's alright." I'm stunned into silence, wondering if he's suggesting what I think he is. Gaepora sighs as if reading my hesitance, "I mean, it would be safer if you two were living under one roof. Do you understand what I'm proposing?"

"I... I think so," I mutter, my eyes still slightly wider than usual.

His lips set into a grim line as he anxiously rubs his forehead, "The fact of the matter is that I can't be down here for her all the time, I have duties, the Academy... and even if I could, I wouldn't be able to protect her like I know you can. I fear I would be a liability, someone else to keep safe. You've saved her once."

"I'll take care of her," I tell him.

He nods once. "In the legend, the Goddess had a protector, a guardian, that could ward off the Arnacht while she fulfilled her duty. I think that could be you, Link," he says, his voice growing quieter. "And I can't believe I'm saying this," he says with a flustered wave of his hand, "but I think she would be safest if she were to live with you for the time being."

My eyes open wider. "I—in my house?" I stutter.

"Yes," he replies curtly, confusion in the set of his thick white brow.

I nod abruptly, proving to him I understand the task at hand, though my cheeks grow warm at the prospect.

"And before you go getting any silly ideas," he says in that fatherly tone I've grown up with, "I think it's important to... let's see, maintain... boundaries... if you will." He clears his throat, effectively avoiding eye contact with me while the slight blush in my cheeks begins to burn crimson. "She's a, um... young lady, and you're a young man, but you need to treat her with the same care, and caution you always have. I know you two are older now, and there are hormones—"

"I completely understand," I say, cutting him off, "trust me, Sir, nothing will happen."

He grins weakly under his white beard, "I know. I do trust you."

"I'll take care of her," I repeat, my eyes down, my cheeks scorching.

He pauses for a moment, before he says, "I know."

"Have you told her?" I ask, "I mean, about her living here?"

"I mentioned it to her when I came back down. I think she heartily agrees with me. She's at home, packing some of her things up if you wanted to head over there." I nod, standing up with a flicker of desire in my heart, the desire for her to be near again. "Make sure you're back before nightfall, and make sure you keep the doors shut tight," he murmurs as he makes his way to the door and just beyond where his loftwing awaits him. I don't feel pressure though he leaves me here to defend his daughter, I feel completely calm.

Even as I stroll down the sheltered path to her house, the eyes of the beast lurking in the shadows undoubtedly following me, all I feel is a urgent thrum in every vein in my body to see her, to feel her skin and know that she's okay. I open the door gently upon my arrival, knocking once though I've already entered her home. She pokes her head around her bedroom door frame and smiles gently at me, a dress in her hands. "I'm almost finished," she says before disappearing again. Just as quick though, she reappears, "my dad did talk to you, right?"

I smile to reassure her, "Yes, he did."

"And... it's alright with you?" she asks hesitantly.

"Of course," I say a little too quickly, her lips quirking into a grin, "I mean... it'll be safer."

"Thank you," she says sincerely, looking down as she picks her bag up off the ground. "I think I'm ready to go."

"Alright," I say, following her as she leaves her home behind, finding one within mine. I take the bag from her hands, slinging it over my shoulder so she can walk comfortably towards my house. I can see in her eyes, just being out here, vulnerable, makes her feel terrified. She walks closer to me than she normally would, our arms brushing, her fingers holding onto the cuff of my sleeve. A bird flutters from one tree to another above us and she jumps, instinctively glancing towards the noise with a quiet gasp. I wait until she fixes her eyes on the road again again to take mine away from her.

"You can sleep in my room," I tell her upon our arrival as I carry her things through the door and set them down on my bed, "I'll sleep out here."

"Okay," she mumbles, chewing on her lip.

"Are you hungry?" I ask, running my eyes over her troubled face, perfect amidst the torment.

She nods, her cheeks glowing in the strips of burning light of the setting sun and the faintest of smiles tugging on her lips. "Yeah."

I nod towards her and fill two bowls with a stew that has been on the fire for most of the day. We eat in silence, though she gives me an appreciative thank you when she finishes. Her eyes stay on the fading light that streams through the boarded windows, her knuckles white as she crunches her fingers into a fist on the tabletop. "Are you tired?" I ask quietly.

She nods a little hesitantly, like she's afraid to close her eyes, afraid she won't find morning. I lead her into my bedroom like she's a dazed child, keeping my lamp on for her when the light in the skies burns out.

I write a letter for Gaepora, telling him that we're safe thus far, that I'll send him again tomorrow. I pause with my hand on the doorknob, the letter grasped within the other as I feel a palm rest on my shoulder. "Where are you going?"

"To send your father a letter," I tell her, refusing to turn around, "tell him we're alright."

"Don't go," she begs quietly, her voice breaking, "please, Link. Don't go out there."

"I'll be fine," I whisper as reassuringly as I can muster, "go lay back down."

Her hand falls from my shoulder. "I'm afraid," she whimpers.

I turn around then, catching her gaze in mine. My heart twists painfully as I watch her with her pleading eyes. Her golden hair falls in soft curls around her face, her bangs growing out longer and pushed off of her forehead. Her nightgown isn't much more than a slip, not covering her arms or her legs past her knees because of the heat. Nervous fingers clench at the material floating down her thighs, rumpling the white fabric. "I'll just be a moment," I tell her, my voice uncharacteristically cold as I twist the doorknob.

It chills my bones when I step outside into the silence of night to call on my loftwing to deliver the message for me, waiting in simple fear until I see the familiar flutter of crimson descending towards me. I breathe a sigh of relief once he's taken to the sky once more and I can return to Zelda inside.

I know the feeling when it crawls up my neck. I've always had another sense, almost a second of premonition when something is behind me; the ability to know just a moment before death or something worse seeks me out. That's how I know to roll to my side just as a bark rips through the night, claws catching at my shoulder.

I don't turn to lay my eyes on it, adrenaline surges through my heart as I run, run though I can hear it's heavy paws against the ground just behind me, though it's so close that the rasping snarls that come from it's mouth hurt my ears. I fly through my door, quickly slamming it behind me though the beast on the other side pushes back, leaning it's full weight—nearly too much for me—against the door.

A cry of panic comes from my lips as I shove my shoulder into the solid wood, the creature on the other side yelping as it's foot crunches between the door and the door frame before it tears itself free and the door clicks shut.

It does not give up despite the barrier between us. With shaking hands I lean back against the door, releasing my body weight against it and slide to the ground, my quaking legs unable to stabilize me any longer. The repetitive force of the beast ricochets through the door and into my chest, jolting me forward as I wait, unsure if I'll be able to keep it at bay. A thousand things are swimming through my mind frantically, drowning in the possibility of failing her.

When I look up, she's standing in the doorway of my bedroom watching me, her face fallen, full of sorrow as she covers her mouth with one hand because she knows.

She walks silently towards me, kneeling over top of me with one knee on either side of my hips, straddling my legs as she winds her arms around my shoulders, her face burrowing into my neck, her whole body trembling. Her fingers keep up a constant anxious pattern, the electricity of fear not allowing them to pause; grasping at my hair, trailing down my neck, slipping beneath my collar to grip the warm skin there as the thing outside continues to bash it's weight against the door, howling in desperation. She does not cry or panic, but just holds me, touches my skin and breathes into the hollow between my neck and shoulder though her body shakes against mine.

I try to tell her I'm sorry, to tell her that it's my fault. I am ready to give up hope.

When suddenly the thumping stops. The heavy footfalls of the creature disappearing into the night, the growling dissipating into silence.

I release a shuddering sigh, looking up to the ceiling with heavy arms by my sides to thank whatever force managed to turn that beast... the Arnacht, away from us. Zelda doesn't move, but remains sitting in my lap, her fingers twisting in my hair at the nape of my neck. I try to lift my arms though it feels like my bones have been replaced by lead, and skim my fingers accidentally along her legs—bare up to her knees—before I manage to press them into the small of her back, squeezing her against me. "I'm so sorry," I manage to whisper, "I shouldn't have gone out."

She doesn't respond, just nestles her head against me as her hands trail down to my chest, allowing herself to be enveloped in my arms.

My heart starts to beat erratically at the nearness of her body, at the warmth radiating from every part of me she makes contact with. "We'll be safe until morning," she finally murmurs, "don't be afraid."

I furrow my brow, confused until I notice her palm resting over my heart, feeling the pounding beneath my ribcage just underneath her fingers, and mistaking my rushing blood at wanting her so desperately for fear. I suppose I do feel a certain fear however, the fear of her in harm, the reason I am sometimes unable to think clearly, the reason I moved to be so close to her.

We sit like this for some time, not wanting to move in case it returns I guess. Not wanting to breathe or say a word, not to yawn or shift as my feet start to tingle from sitting so still, from her weight on my legs. I close my eyes, breathing in the scent of her hair and clothes and finding somewhere far away from here, somewhere safe to doze.

My eyes flutter open when I feel her shifting against me, sitting up straighter to look into my eyes. A knot ties in my stomach then at how close her face is to mine, at the way her fingers trail tantalizingly down my chest to the tensed muscles of my stomach, my breathing becoming shallow and causing my thoughts to spin.

I remember vaguely what her father said, what he said about maintaining boundaries.

Her eyes, half-lidded, aren't looking at mine anymore, they're gazing at my barely parted lips.

She leans in closer to me, the glitter of blue disappearing behind her eyelids, her pace slow, steady, unsure.

And I turn my face away.

A ghost of a surprised gasp manages to whisper past her lips, her body freezing in confusion. I grit my teeth together as I stare at the ground, my hands letting go of her.

I hear her swallow before she presses her lips to my cheek, something about the way she does, so bitter. She stands and follows her feet back to my room, back to a place where we can be separated by a door.

I pull my knees up to my chest, pressing my fingers to my eyes and rubbing away the guilt and regret at pulling away from her. Deep breaths pour from my lips, like I've just been holding it in for as long as I can before I finally break the surface and am able to breathe again. I wanted to hold her mouth against mine, let myself grasp her with trembling hands because I was nervous before her, not because I was scared for our lives. But I didn't.

Maybe I didn't because of what her dad told me, but maybe I didn't because I want to be the one to kiss her, not for her to kiss me. I want to kiss her at a time where we can remember how beautiful the world can be.

I wonder what would have happened if I did. If I'd let her kiss me. Would things have gone farther? Would we have done something we'd regret, or something we'd cherish? I put my chin in my hand, shaking my head as a brief fantasy flits through my mind. I see her beside me in our bed, and the moon bounces off her blue skin, bare under the night, and inside her eyes is a galaxy, and she smiles at me as I sift my fingers through her silvery-gold hair.

The knot in my stomach catches fire, burning through my insides, igniting my lungs and heart. I wince as it spreads to my left shoulder, though this pain bears more reality to it than the others. I lift my heavy hand and prod at the aching flesh, my fingers coming away with a dark stain. Through the rush of adrenaline I hadn't noticed the tear in my skin left by the Arnacht until now. I rub the sticky substance between my fingers and thumb, the sting from the salt in my skin subsiding into a dull throb. I let it burn.

I don't leave my spot in front of the door.

I don't leave so that there's one more thing between Zelda and the thing that seeks to end her life.

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