A/N - This may be the last chapter until December, because I'll be participating in Nanowrimo in November.

Chapter Six: Training

Smiling in a way that makes my legs want to turn to jelly, Sheik opens the door to his rooms and gestures for me to go inside first. I don't know why I'm so hesitant, so nervous, but there are ants crawling along my stomach and up my throat, threatening to choke me or come spilling out my mouth.

Delicately, like I'm afraid to break something, I step into the room. My snow and mud caked boots look sacrilegious against the clean stone floor, so I stoop and unlace them, setting them neatly beside the door. When I straighten, Sheik is rolling his eyes.

I look around the room. It's a large, circular space, the center dominated by a deep blue rug and a set of armchairs, all draped in furs. A fire crackles in the far wall, and Tall Link has dragged one of the chairs over to sit beside it. Two wooden doors flank the hearth.

Tall Link turns when he hears us enter, and he smiles at me tiredly, the green clothes nowhere in sight. Sheik gestures for me to sit, so I push a chair over to join Tall Link. I've realized suddenly that I can't feel any of my toes. I prop my feet up on a low stool and scoot them as close to the fire as they can get without burning. Instantly, warmth floods back, and a tingling sensation spreads all the way to my heels.

Sheik props himself up against the wall. "Sleepy Link is going to join us," he says to Tall Link.

"He is?" Tall Link glances at me. "I thought you were adamant about sending him home."

"That was before he eavesdropped on our meeting by climbing in through the roof," Sheik explains, and Tall Link's mouth drops open.

"He what?"

I squirm down into my chair, and stare at my hands, uncomfortable with how much attention I'm getting.

"How is that possible?" Tall Link wonders. "The castle is huge!"

I open my mouth to explain how it wasn't really that difficult, but for a moment I forget how to talk.

"We'll rest tonight and tomorrow." Sheik rescues me from the scrutiny. "And then I want to start training the two of you."

"What kind of training?" Tall Link asks. He finally shrugs and looks away from me.

"Combat, mostly."

I cringe, because we all know how well I did in our last fight.

"Your things have been brought up and put in that room." Sheik points at the door to our right. "Get a good night's sleep. I'll see you in the morning."

Tall Link and I rise, walking with slumped shoulders to the other room which is smaller and more cozy than the other. A round carpet, thick and soft, takes up most of the floor, and tapestries in mellow tones hang from the walls. There are two narrow beds covered in blankets and thick furs pushed up against the back wall. My pack, cloak, and Rusl's sword lie on one, and I move everything to the floor.

My fingers linger on the hilt of the sword. Sheik expects me to use this. To swing it and stab it. It seems too big, too heavy, too much for me. I pull my hand away like it's been burned.

Tall Link begins stripping his shirt and shoes off, so I do the same. The fabric is cold against my face, caked with days of fear-sweat and snow. I fall over into the bed, sinking into the plush furs and mattress. It's like nothing I've ever felt before. There are no lumps to punch out, the fabric is silky rather than scratchy, and the blankets are all of uniform thickness, unworn.

I burrow underneath the furs as deeply as I can, the tips of my hair the only things showing on the pillow. My limbs turn to stone, and the heavy sound of Tall Link's breathing lulls me to sleep.

I don't know where I am when I wake up the next morning. I suspect that I'm dreaming, because I wouldn't find such soft luxury anywhere else. I crack my eyes open to find sunlight streaming in through the glass covered windows, and the fur blanket tickles my nose, making me sneeze.

"Sleepy Link? Are you awake?"

I raise my head just far enough to see Tall Link sitting on the edge of his bed, pulling a white linen shirt that I've never seen before over his head. His back muscles ripple beneath tan skin.

"Sort of," I mumble.

"Sheik came in and said that there's breakfast waiting in the sitting room, and when we're done, he'll take us to the baths below the castle."

At the mention of food, my stomach awakens fully and begins to protest loudly and incessantly that it be fed right this instant.

I shove the blanket off and roll out of bed, my bare feet sinking into the carpet. I stand and stretch, and every single joint in my body pops.

"And here's a clean shirt." Tall Link tosses a white bundle my way, and it unravels into a long sleeve shirt that matches his. When I pull it on, the sleeves fall well past the tips of my fingers, and the V-shaped neckline plunges down my ribcage.

"Oh, come on, they didn't have a smaller one?" I complain.

Tall Link shrugs. "Fits me."

"Yes, because you are twice my size."

He shrugs again and leads the way out of the bedroom. My hunger grows to a whole new height. Spread out across the low table is an array of breakfast foods vaster than any I've seen before. There are breads, some flaky, some dense, some white as snow, and others dark brown and filled with seeds. There are multi-colored jars of jams and jellies, freshly churned butter, and fruits in every shape, size, and color. I see a platter of cured meats, thinly sliced, and beside it, a large chunk of cheese to be broken into pieces, and last but not least, there are several pitchers filled with water or creamy milk.

I drop into a chair and grab one of the wooden plates, heaping as much food as possible onto it. Then I settle back and fold my legs under me. "Where's Sheik?" I ask around a mouthful of bread and strawberry jam.

"He said he had to run an errand and he'd be back soon." Tall Link's plate is as full as mine, to the point that every time he shifts, the top bit of food threatens to tumble into his lap.

We eat in silence. I haven't had a proper meal since we left Ordon Village, and I need to make up for that by shoving as much food down my throat as I can. I'm not about to pause in that endeavor to say something.

I eat two heaping platefuls, and Tall Link eats three, yet we still barely make a dent in the spread. Sheik enters the room when we're both slumped over in our chairs, hands on our overly-stretched stomachs. I feel like I might vomit or explode from the inside.

"Sleep well?" Sheik asks.

I crack an eye open, nodding. Sheik has changed out of his blue traveling garb, and now he wears a loose pair of leggings, the ends tucked into his boots, and a shirt that's the same cut as mine but black. His long, blonde hair is still braided, and the tail falls over his shoulder, trailing down the side of his chest. The black of his clothes accents his deeply tanned skin and the gold of his hair. I have never seen someone so beautiful, and I turn a little red as the thought crosses my mind.

"Are you both done eating?" he asks.

"Yes. It was delicious," Tall Link answers.

"I'll show you to the baths, then."

Sheik beckons for us to stand, and we follow him out the door, pausing just long enough to put our boots on. The hallways of the castle as Sheik leads us down several floors are a maze. No corridor goes in a straight line for very long before branching off in one or more direction. Sheik never hesitates, though. We go down narrow, dimly lit staircases as well as ones with carpeting thick enough to sleep on and wide enough to allow a carriage to pass. Some of the hallways we walk are obviously servants' quarters, simple but clean and dotted with flowers cut fresh from the garden. Others are more lavish, with intricate paintings hanging from the walls beside golden candleholders.

We pass the kitchens, and despite having just eaten breakfast, my mouth begins to water. They're cooking some kind of meat, and its aroma fills the surrounding corridors, accompanied by the delicate scent of baking bread.

"This place is huge," Tall Link says as we start down another staircase.

"It's been renovated and expanded so many times since it was first built," Sheik explains. "Honestly, no one really knows where every single passage goes except maybe Princess Zelda."

"Are we almost there?" I ask. It feels like we've been walking forever, and all the food in my stomach is making me nauseous.

At the bottom of the stairs, Sheik stops and pushes a simple wooden door open. "Actually, we are."

A cloud of steam billows out and envelops us, smelling of mint and rosemary. I step into the warm room, squinting a little to see through the white mist. There are three circular pools, arranged in a triangle, and each has an assortment of bottles and dishes lying beside it. Along the walls are benches for our clothes and shelves full of plump, white towels.

As Sheik walks across the room towards the benches, he begins to pull his shirt off. I stare. White scars crisscross his back, and a long-healed burn starts at his spine and wraps around one side of his lower back. The scars stretch and dance as he moves. Sheik turns around, and I can't stop my eyes from travelling down the length of his front. I've never seen such definition on another person. It's as if he's been cut from stone. He has a black tattoo on the right side of his chest – the same eye and tear symbol as on his tunic – and the fingers of the burn creep along his stomach.

"Well, come on," he says.

And then he starts to take off his pants.

I drop my gaze to the ground, praying that neither of them will see the way my face is heating up. I hear him walk across the floor, and his bare calves pass through my line of sight. Tall Link doesn't seem perturbed or uncomfortable. He strips down quickly, and there are two small splashes as he and Sheik slide into the center pool.

"Are you going to stand there all day, Sleepy Link?" Sheik calls.

I jump. "Yes – uh – no!" I stutter and kick myself. Way to be subtle, Link. Good work.

I hurriedly pull off my clothes and drop them on the bench. I keep my eyes pinned on the ground as I cross to the pool. Please, Din, don't let them be watching me. I'm suddenly self-conscious in a way I've never been before. I'm in shape – you have to be to work on a farm – but I'm not muscled like Tall Link and Sheik are. My arms look soft in comparison to theirs, and Tall Link's shoulders are broad enough to swallow two of me.

Face red with shame and embarrassment, I slip into the pool. The water is murky with soap, and steam rises up from little clouds of bubbles to shroud my head. At least now I can blame my redness on the heat.

Sheik pulls his arms up and rests them on the lip of the pool. Beads of water roll down his skin, over the swell of his muscles. I flick my gaze to him and away again, to and away. On the fourth flick, he catches my eyes and smirks, lifting one eyebrow. After that, I stare at the swirling water.

Tall Link glides over to investigate the bottles and dishes. He lifts a few to his nose and nods absentmindedly before selecting a bar of red and white swirled soap. "It smells like cinnamon," he sais, returning to his seat with it.

Curiosity winning out over my need to remain hidden, I drift of to the spot he'd just vacated. Sheik arrives at the same time, and our arms bump. His skin is hot and slick and hard, and I pull away like I've been shocked, wishing…I don't even know what I wish.

I've forgotten what I'm doing. I watch dumbly as Sheik picks out a glass bottle filled with a green gel. "I'd recommend that one. It's citrus."

"What?"

Sheik sets a different bottle in my hands and moves away. I blink down at it. It's a little under half full, the soap tinged orange. I uncork it as I sit back down, the sharp scent of oranges rising up to greet me. I pour some into my hands, watching how it oozes, and begin to rub it on my arms. The soap has little grainy bits in it that scrub at my skin, pulling up layers of dirt.

"Will you get my back, Sleepy Link?" Sheik asks.

My head jerks up, my eyes bugging out. "Huh?"

"Will you help me wash my back?" he repeats.

I feel as if I've detached from my body. "Sure," I say, hesitant. I cross to his side of the pool, and he hands me his soap, turning around so his back faces me. Feeling dazed, I let some of the gel ooze into my hand.

My fingers touch his back without me moving them. His skin is hotter than a furnace, and I look down at my hands, expecting the tips to be burnt down to the bone. I rub the soap up and down the smooth plane of his back, the scars barely creating bumps, his spine knobby.

"Thanks," he says, too soon, and I reluctantly pull away, my hands covered in suds. I drop them into the water and watch the filmy substance drift away.

"Do you want me to get yours?"

I forget how to breathe as I stare at him with wide eyes. It seems my throat has stopped working. Sheik plucks the bottle from my numb fingers and spins me around. Then his hot, hot hands are on my back, and the heat of them is spreading through every single part of my body, and I'm suddenly so glad that the water is murky. I'd never known that the touch of another person could feel so amazing.

Eventually, the contact ends. Sheik traces one last, lingering line across my shoulders and says, "Okay, all done."

"Uh, thanks." I stagger back to the other side of the pool, and a few minutes later, we all climb out. The thick towels quickly sponge the water from my limbs, and I get dressed with my eyes fixed firmly on the walls.

Then Sheik takes us back to his rooms and leaves us there. There's something evil in the smile he gives us. "Rest up. Tomorrow's going to be a hard day."

He isn't kidding.

The next morning, I awake to something hard slamming into my midriff like a cannonball. Terrified, breathless, my eyes snap open to find a black masked face with red eyes leering down at me. Moving on instinct, I shoot a hand up, two fingers extended and aiming for the eyes, but they just bat my attack away with the casual flick of their wrist.

"You've got to be ready for anything," Sheik's voice says, low and gravelly.

He climbs off me, and I sit up, gasping for air. "What the hell?" I manage to groan. Across the room, another masked assailant is rolling off of Tall Link.

Sheik rips the blankets away from me. "Your training starts now. Get up."

"What time is it?"

"Much earlier than you would like." Sheik seizes my arm and drags me bodily to the floor. "Up, up, up. Here are your shirt, pants, and shoes." As he lists them, each item hits me in the chest and falls to the floor. Tall Link seems to be in a similar state of bleary confusion. "If you don't start getting dressed right now, I will hit you again," Sheik threatens, a scary amount of merriment in his voice.

I still can't breathe properly from the first time he hit me, so I bend down and obediently begin to pull my clothes on.

Sheik finally takes his mask off, revealing a grinning face, then he gestures to the masked stranger. "This is my friend, Ashei."

The stranger pulls her demonic mask off, shaking out her shining black hair. Short bangs sweep across her pale forehead, and two pigtails tumble down her shoulders. Her smirk makes her brown eyes twinkle, and she props one hand on her hip. Tall Link looks mortified when he realizes that he's in his underclothes.

Ashei winks at him. "Nice to meet you. Sheik, I'm going to go change into my armor. I'll meet you out on the training ground."

"Is there breakfast?" I ask as Ashei leaves, her hips swaying.

Sheik simply starts laughing and hands me Rusl's sword. I take that for a no.

Sheik ushers us out of the room even though Tall Link is still pulling his pants on and appears to only have one boot, the strap of his sword sheath hanging crookedly over his shoulder. The hallways are empty and drafty, and the first window we pass shows us a dark grey sky.

"The sun isn't even up yet!" I protest.

"Monsters aren't going to wait for you to wake up."

"Rude," I mumble.

The cold winter wind hits me like a fully grown ox as we step out the door, and I shiver violently, stuffing my hands under my armpits. "It's too cold for this," I say.

"Someone's mouthy this morning," Sheik replies. He practically skips down the steps.

"My mother wanted to call me Mouthy Link."

We trudge around to the back of the castle. On either side of the narrow path, the snow is piled knee high. A giant field opens up in front of us. Half of it has been cleared of snow and has simple wooden effigies of soldiers dotted through a corner. Further away, there's a row of circular targets, and there's a strange contraption made of what looks like a studded climbing wall and a mess of ropes.

"Come on," Sheik says.

Ashei appears from a door as we start across the tamped dirt. She's changed out of her sneak-attack blacks and now wears a pair of red pants and a blue sweater. On top of that is the oddest assortment of armor I've ever seen.

Bronze greaves cover her legs from the knees down, connecting to matching boots, and an engraved metal corset wraps around her midriff. Her sword arm is encased in a large spaulder, and a strange, circular device marches down her forearm, thickest just below her elbow and narrowing towards the wrist. Her gauntlet has red etchings just like the rest of her armor, and her other arm bears the same kind of covering, all except for the spaulder on the shoulder. A long, thin sword hangs from her waist.

She meets us beside the wooden soldiers, and stands with her hands clasped behind her back. Tall Link and I stop awkwardly and bump shoulders as we shuffle our feet. I'm still holding Rusl's sword in my arms like it will bite me.

"Have either of you used a sword before?" Sheik asks.

"Rusl showed me a few basics," Tall Link says as I shake my head.

"Draw them. We'll start with the basics."

I wrap my fingers around the cold hilt of Rusl's sword. The metal digs painfully into my palm, as I slowly pull the blade from the scabbard. When the weight of the weapon falls fully into one hand, the point drops towards the ground, twisting my fingers, and I grab it with my other hand as well, struggling to pull it up before it touches the snow. Tall Link holds his sword easily, inscribing tiny circles in the air.

"You only need one hand for that sword, Sleepy Link," Sheik says.

I shake my head.

Sheik takes my hands and rearranges one of them so it grips the hilt correctly and pushes the other one down to my side. I almost slice his stomach open when my wrist wobbles, and Sheik frowns. "Ashei, work with Tall Link, will you?"

"I'm sorry," I say. I take the sword in two hands again.

"You just need to get used to it. Don't be scared of it."

Sheik pulls my second hand away again, and this time the sword stays raised, though the point shakes. "Stand like this." Sheik sinks into a stance with one foot forward and his knees bent. I copy him all my attention focused on keeping the blade level. "Keep your wrist light and flexible. That will make it easier to swing the sword."

"If I do that, I'll drop it," I say through gritted teeth. My whole arm feels like a bar of iron, rigid and immovable.

"Take a swing. You'll see what I mean."

Sheik takes several steps back to give me room. Moving my arm as one unit, I pull the sword to the side and try to swing it in a wide arc. The weight and momentum spin me around, and the hilt flies from my hand, but I can't see where it goes as I crash to the ground, my hip slamming into the frozen earth.

"Are you okay?" Sheik asks. There's a hidden note of laughter in his voice.

"No," I groan.

Sheik's strong hands grab my arms and heave me upright, supporting me until my legs remember how to bear my weight. He stares at me for a long time, and I shift uncomfortably, grinding the toe of my boot into the dirt. "I don't think the sword is your weapon," he says finally.

"Great, so what should I use to defend myself? A spoon?"

"No. Wait here." Sheik claps me on the shoulder and hurries away, disappearing into the castle.

I cross my arms and kick at a rock, but it's iced over, and all I do is stub my toe. Ashei is coaching Tall Link over at one of the mock soldiers. She calls out directions to him, and Tall Link's sword flicks out like the tongue of a snack, striking the straw covered wood and bouncing off while he moves lightly on his feet.

I scowl. Of course he's perfect at sword fighting. He's perfect at everything else, too. I've never been good at a single thing in my entire life.

Tall Link hops back and then leaps forward, sword held high as he flies through the air. The blade slices through the bucket that tops the mock soldier in two, and he lands in a neat crouch. Ashei claps, but my scowl intensifies.

"Okay, I'm back." Sheik's voice by my shoulder makes me jump, and I spin around.

He holds a pair of daggers out to me. The blades are about the length of my forearm, and the hilts are wrapped in a layer of worn leather. "These are my old knives," Sheik explains. "If they work for you, we'll get you your own pair before we leave."

I reach for the weapons hesitantly. I'm terrified they'll feel just as unnatural as Rusl's sword. My fingers slide around the grips, falling into the grooves that are already there, and I lift the daggers. They feel light as air, like they were meant to be in my hands. I look up at Sheik with wide eyes.

"Feel right?" he says, and I nod.

"Come on, I'll show you how to use them."

Sheik spends the next few hours showing me the best ways to slash and stab, how to reverse my grip to thrust from different angles, and how to block. He has me attack a mock soldier until my strikes land in the right place three times out of five. I feel the same way I do when I climb; light and free.

When the sun has risen fully, Sheik calls a stop, and I let my aching arms drop. It's a good kind of ache, though. It proves that I've done something.

We tramp into the kitchens for a quick breakfast. The cook glares at us and warns us to keep out of her way and keep our filth off her counters, but she still supplies us with some bread, cheese, and ham.

Then it's back out into the cold morning. Sheik stops by a small armory and hands Tall Link a simple wooden shield with the royal crest burned into it. "Teach him to use that," he tells Ashei as we separate, and he leads me across the training field towards the strange climbing wall. "Knife fighting isn't just about knowing how to swing a blade. You need to be fast and agile. Most of the opponents you'll face will have a sword or axe, so they'll have a superior reach. You need to be able to get inside that. Luckily, you're pretty small, so you'll be able to use that to your advantage."

We stop before the wall, and its shadow blankets us. It's actually three walls, connected at the corners like a box and covered in dangling ropes, rope bridges, and rope ladders, and wooden ledges jut out of the wall at all sorts of odd angles.

"See how fast you can climb it," Sheik says.

My eyes narrow. It seems too easy. There are plenty of hand and foot holds; I'll be at the top in a minute. There has to be a catch.

Sheik gestures for me to start, his smile giving nothing away.

I run at the wall and propel myself upwards, hand catching on a ledge that I use as a spring board to grab the end of a dangling rope. I clamber up it hand over hand, my eyes already picking out the next three jumps I'll make. Halfway to the top, I'm dangling from another ledge, about to haul myself up, when something hard hits me in the back. One hand slips in surprise, and I flail wildly until it slaps back down onto the wood, and I heave myself up, rolling onto the ledge.

"What the hell was that?" I demand, looking down at Sheik.

He bounces a rock up and down in his hand. "You have to be ready for anything."

And then he chucks it at my head.

I jerk to the side, rolling off my perch and onto one of the rope bridges. I curl into a ball and let myself fall through an open square, landing on the ledge right below.

"You're insane!" I yell as I'm forced to leap to the perpendicular wall in order to avoid a second stone. I cling like a spider to two bulbous hand holds and lunge upwards, my ears straining for the faint sound of a whistling rock.

I spin to the side before one can hit my arm and leap off a ledge, grabbing one of the dangling ropes and swinging all the way to the other side of the structure. Three more rocks whizz by me. I scramble upwards as quickly as I can. Maybe if I can reach the top, the barrage will stop.

The higher I climb, the more intense Sheik's attacks become, until I'm trying to dodge three rocks at one time. I spin and leap and swing, never remaining in the same position for more than a moment. In the back of my mind, I'm amazed that I haven't been hit yet.

With one last grunt, I'm crouched on top of the wall. I twist to face Sheik, fully prepared to laugh down at him because I've beaten his little game, when a rock slams into my chest and knocks me off. I shriek as I fall through the air, and then I crash into five feet of powdery snow. I wheeze, lying with white clumps covering half my face, my ribs aching like they're broken.

Sheik's footsteps crunch through the snow until they're at my head. His red eyes appear above me, one eyebrow raised.

"I think you broke me," I groan.

"I told you to be ready for anything."

"You cheat."

"There's no such thing."

He stretches out a hand, and my chest protest as I move to take it. Sheik helps me up, and I clap a hand to my ribs. "I'm going to have a huge bruise tomorrow."

"Good."

I stagger along behind him back towards the training ground. Ashei is trying to whack Tall Link over the head with a wooden sword as he holds the shield up to desperately defend himself.

"At least I don't have to do that," I say.

Sheik starts laughing.

The task master lets Tall Link and me take a short break, and then I have to go back to waving my knives around while Sheik yells at me all the things I'm doing wrong. By the time dinner rolls around, I can't lift my arms more than a few inches.

Tall Link and I stuff ourselves full to bursting, though I'm so tired I barely taste all the succulent food. I tumble into bed before the sun has set, and the lights go out as soon as my head hits the pillow.

Thankfully, Sheik doesn't wake me up with a sneak attack the next morning. He still yanks the blankets off, though, but he makes up for it by handing me a thick slice of bread slathered in butter and blackberry jam. I stuff it in my mouth as I pull my boots on, and then the three of us head back down to the training yard.

The cold isn't as abrasive this morning. It's still horrible, but I don't feel like I'm about to die. Ashei steals Tall Link away as soon as she sees him, and Sheik leads me towards the circular targets.

"I'm going to teach you to throw the knives," he says and draws one of his own daggers.

He explains the two ways of throwing it and then shows me how to properly hold the knife for each technique, by the hilt and by the tip of the blade. He demonstrates the smooth throwing motion, the dagger flying from his hand and burying itself in the target's red center.

I whistle, impressed.

"You try."

I poke my tongue out as I concentrate on copying him. The knife slips from my hand almost without me realizing it and tumbles through the air. It sinks a few inches into the straw right at the edge of the target.

"I hit it!" I yell excitedly.

"Good job. This is all you're doing today."

That sounds much better than having rocks thrown at my head.

I quickly fall into a rhythm, throwing both knives as best I can, then jogging over to the target to retrieve them. Sheik goes to help Ashei with Tall Link's training but returns occasionally to check on my progress and give me a few pointers.

By lunchtime, I can hit the yellow circle on the target about two-thirds of the time, and by dinner, I've managed to land three throws in the red center.

"Look, look!" I yell, pointing so Sheik can see my accomplishment.

He grins as he walks over and claps me on the shoulder. "You're a natural."

I spend half the next day throwing my knives as well, but after lunch Sheik stops me before I can head back to the range. "Here." He hands me two wooden knives that are weighted exactly the same as my real ones. "It's time to try a mock battle."

He scoops a thin wooden sword off the ground and falls into a defensive stance. "You're not going to hurt me, are you?" I ask warily.

"Only a little."

He waits for me to attack, but I hang back. Halfway through the third circle, Sheik grows tired of waiting, so he lunges forward, sword slicing, and I lock my knives into an X and catch his blade with it, my heart pounding.

He attacks again and again and again, driving me back across the frozen ground as I try frantically to defend myself. "Fight back!" he yells, aiming a particularly vicious stroke at my head. I leap back, the sword point inches from my nose, and then rush forward as instructed, stabbing with one of my daggers. He catches it easily, and I swing my other arm at him. He sways out of the way of that strike, too.

He lets me attack him three more times and even gives up a few feet of ground. Then the next time I block his sword with my crossed knives, he moves in until we're chest to chest, our weapons between us. Sheik shoves mightily against me, and I lose my balance and crash to the ground.

"You're dead," Sheik says, pointing his sword at my throat.

He makes me get up and try again. A minute later, I'm on my butt again. When I look around, I see that Tall Link is also getting his ass handed to him by Ashei, though he isn't on the ground yet.

I try attacking Sheik again.

And again.

And again.

I try coming at him from different angles. I try fighting defensively. I try attacking him wildly. I try simply throwing my daggers at him. I lose every single time.

Sheik lets me go back to throwing practice until dinner.

The next two weeks pass in much the same way. Tall Link gets better at a faster rate than me, but I improve, too, until I can hit the center circle on the target four out of the five times, and I even manage to land a few good hits when I fight with Sheik and Ashei.

And then Sheik tells us to take a couple days off, we're leaving at the end of the week.

"Really?" I squeak. Suddenly, it's too soon.

Tall Link nods. "I'm ready, I think."

Sheik smiles at him and lets us go down to the baths to relax. My arms and chest are a black and blue mosaic, and the hot water feels absolutely divine. We spend the next two days relaxing while Sheik stockpiles supplies in the room.

The day before we're set to go, a courtier from the princess knocks on the door. He bows when Sheik lets him in. "Princess Zelda requests your presence at dinner tonight," he says.

"We'll be there," Sheik promises.

The courtier bows again and leaves.

Sheik gives Tall Link and me clothes to wear to dinner. Tall Link pulls on a forest green tunic with silver leaves embroidered around the collar and the cuffs over a pair of black pants, his boots shining and his hair combed neatly. Sheik finds me a navy blue tunic that actually fits, and it has gold thread worked into it. I try to tame my hair into some kind of order, but it's thick and unwieldy and refuses to lie flat.

Sheik comes out of his bedroom in a garb much like his traveling clothes. The eye symbol is on his chest, outlined in red thread. Black silk is wrapped around his forearms and over his hands, looped around his thumbs. A white scarf curls around his neck and trails down his chest, small braided tassels hanging off the end.

"Are you ready to go?" he asks.

"What's the protocol for this?" I ask, tugging at the hem of my shirt.

"You're introduced, you bow, you sit, then you make polite talk and try not to spill soup down your shirt."

Oh Din, I really wish he hadn't said that.

Sheik leads us towards the royal dining hall. He turns briefly to make sure we're both properly primped and then nods for the page to announce us. The young boy steps through the door and clears his throat. "Introducing Sheik, ambassador to the royal family, Link of Ordon Village, and…Link of Ordon Village."

We sweep inside, and Princess Zelda stands up from the table, wearing a dark purple dress. She frowns a little, puzzled. "Did your Link multiply? When I first saw you, there was one, and now there are two."

"There were always two," Sheik says. He indicates which chairs we should sit in as we move around the table. "This one," he points to me, "wasn't originally going to come, but then things changed."

We all sit down, and I follow Tall Link's lead as he puts his napkin in his lap. "And they're both named Link?"

My mouth runs away before I can stop it. "It's a tradition in Ordon." I turn bright red immediately and drop my eyes to my plate. "Uh, Your Highness."

"How do you tell each other apart?" the princess asks, motioning for the waiters to start serving.

I glance around, but everyone seems to expect me to answer. "We have descriptive names, too. Your Highness."

"You don't need to say Your Highness every time," Princess Zelda assures me. "What do I call you both?"

"He's Tall Link, and I'm…" Din, I really don't want to say it. "I'm Sleepy Link."

Princess Zelda politely stifles her amused smile.

The waiters set dainty plates of salad down in front of us and pour red wine into the crystal glasses. I quickly start eating so I don't have to talk anymore.

"How did you get that name?"

I choke on a spinach leaf.

"We're leaving early tomorrow morning," Sheik says, saving me. "Any advice?"

"Actually, I have something for you." She reaches into her lap and pulls out a black pouch. She pours three green gemstones set in gold into her palm. "These are goddess stones. If you plant them in a triangle around your campsite, they should ward the Stalfos off."

She tucks them back into the pouch and tosses it to Sheik. "Should?" he asks as he snatches it out of the air.

Princess Zelda shrugs. "They haven't actually been tested."

"Great, so we're guinea pigs." Sheik ties the pouch to his belt.

The main course arrives; cheese stuffed chicken breasts with tiny, baked potatoes, and Tall Link and I glance at each other before digging in. "Someone needs to be," the princess says with a sly grin.

Sheik and Princess Zelda chat good-naturedly throughout the meal as Tall Link and I eat. Dessert is a giant chocolate cake with thick frosting and ruby red raspberries. When the final plates are cleared, we follow Sheik's lead and stand up, bowing to Princess Zelda. She inclines her head in response. "I'll see you off in the morning," she says.

"Thank you for the meal," Sheik says.

Back in our room, we all make sure that our packs are ready and our weapons are oiled. I fold my fancy clothes up and stack them on the bedside table, running my finger across the soft fabric. I've never worn such nice things.

"Sleepy Link." Sheik walks up to me, a leather bundle in his hands. "Here. These are for you."

"Oh?" I take the gift and unwrap it. The grey and black daggers from the market vendor lie in my hands, not even glinting in the firelight. "Wow. Sheik, thank you. These are beautiful."

"They're good blades. They'll serve you well."

Sheik turns a little abruptly and heads for his room. Just before he walks through the door, he pauses and looks back at me, an unreadable expression in his eyes. I stare down at my new daggers, smiling, and then replace the practice knives in my belt.

Tall Link runs his hand through his hair and gets into bed. "We'd better get some sleep," he says. "Big day tomorrow."

I nod in agreement and crawl under the covers. I don't sleep.