Trolly's Bara-chan: MWAHAHAHA! That's a secret!
Sunnepho: You'd think, but you'd be horribly wrong. Link HAS developed a tendency to attack eyes though, thanks to the ungodly number of monsters that have them as a weak point.
I can explain hearts from monsters, rupees from lakes and rivers and fields, and arrows and the like from grass (and all of it from broken pottery), but rocks will take some work.
Thanks. Overarching? What?
Many, many thanks to the both of you. You spoil me with your reviews.
And I hope ALL of you enjoy this very long update. Sure makes up for last chapter, right? –hides-
Chapter 8 – The fairytale at the bottom of the universe (everyone always tells it wrong)
Skulls rested in the ditch. Just… skulls. Gorons, dodongos, and many more he couldn't quite make out. Insult heaped onto injury had them discover that both ways in (and, more importantly, out) were blocked. Yes, even the one across the ditch that Sheik couldn't leap. Link tried to think happy thoughts.
Then he remembered an abhorrent one. Shadow magic… "Hey, Sheik?"
Sheik sighed, nestled in some shadows by the wrecked altar. "What is it?" He murmured, one eye cracking open to watch him.
"I… you remember that thing I told you about Iblis?" He bit his lip. If there was a state of affairs they had to avoid before anything, this was it, and they were settled into the middle rather neatly. There wasn't a person in the kingdom that didn't see darkness as evil. And the sheikah were drenched so thoroughly in it Ganondorf himself had been envious.
"Of course." He replied in a more alert tone, with his eye wider and tracing Link's face carefully. Even without knowing the everything of the matter – and Link didn't, quite, either - he knew exactly how bad this was going to get. And knowing their luck, it would get worse than that.
"Iblis told me that he… wanted me to find something. The 'brightest one'. I wasn't sure what he meant, but I'm starting to think it's a person. He said that they would snuff out the shadows if they weren't stopped. He said that it would… kill you." He muttered. Sheik raised one eyebrow, and chuckled.
But… the brightest person he knew… was Zelda…
"Cute." He said wryly, touching one hand to his ribs. Link didn't think so, but he decided to shut up before the part of Sheik that insisted on mothering him realized he was getting away with a lot of lunacy as of late.
"… so… how are we going to get out?" He wondered. The lyre Sheik so loved was back in the castle because prolonged exposure to the heat could very well ruin it, and Link's ocarina was… just an ocarina. He'd given back the ocarina of time a while ago (he wasn't sure how he'd managed to keep the mastersword) although, the Other him had been allowed to keep the ocarina, in that time… those thoughts dissipated in a burst of smoke as his companion hissed, shutting his eye again.
"… Link." He sounded frustrated, and the hero canted his head to listen. "I… have a way we could get out."
How he managed to make that sound bad was a mystery, though Link too had some misgivings when it came to returning to the outside world. And… the castle.
The king is dead.
(Death around me isn't exactly new.) Echoes of someone who was and wasn't himself cried out in his head.
He hadn't meant to hit the bag – he'd just wanted to stop him, but he… the bag flashed white, and red went over everything and that moon, it should've hid the color, it should've-
That man didn't exist, anymore.
After the battle, he was numb to it. Dead… He looked upwards at the monster's corpse and shattered heart. Dead.
"What's wrong?" Link asked softly, struggling to his feet before slinking over and collapsing just beside the Sheikah. Without the golem's magic, the torches had gone out one by one until just one final light remained, flickering uncertainly in the dark.
"… I don't have the energy." He admitted softly, so Link canted his head to hear.
"We have rations…" he began in considering tones, a kind of numb dread settling into his heart. We have to get out of here. I don't want to disappear in the dark like this. I don't…
'I don't want to die.'
"I don't have the energy." Sheik cut in bluntly, giving him a sharp look. Energy… if not food, then what in Hyrule was he…
"… oh." He blinked, and tried to make his eyes less… wide.
"Oh." Sheik agreed unhappily.
"… Well, I like living." Link decided a few minutes later – they were spent cursing and crying about delicate instruments that couldn't be brought into the heat of Dodongo's cavern, and wooden non-magical ocarinas – "So… yeah." Sheik gave him an incredulous look.
"Thats it, then? 'So yeah'?" He asked dryly. Link nodded.
"We've got places to be." Another disbelieving look was tossed his way. Sheik was good at those, he found. Really good.
He really wished Sheik would knock it off, though, because the more time they took the more he wanted to rethink this decision. It really wasn't an easy one the first time. But… he had made a choice, and… disappearing into the oblivion of death… he couldn't. It wasn't an option.
"I trust you." He added carefully, and guessed from the way Sheik pulled back and his eye widened that that wasn't what he was expecting, but probably what he needed to hear since he leant back and held out one hand a second after.
"… Alright."
Link watched with barely concealed trepidation as Sheik's cowl was pulled down, and fangs gleamed in the firelight so they looked impossibly sharp. He wondered, with a vague sense of terror, what it would feel like when they sunk into his skin.
"… um… is it… is it going to hurt?" Even as he asked, he placed his wrist in the other's grip. Sheik glanced up while he pulled back the white sleeve, eyebrows up and eyes gleaming.
"Well… yes," He began, sounding perplexed. "I mean, at least at first. Something will be pressing into you… I'm not sure. I… I suppose it could be pleasurable." He scratched the back of his head, leaning most of his weight on the altar. His fingers stilled on Link's arm.
… ah. Link tried to pull back, then, and Sheik let him.
Coughing and barely managing to keep his gaze on Sheik, he pursed his lips. "Well… have you ever had it done to you?" He wondered while looking over the altar cloth beside him because wasn't that interesting? Why, that infinitesimally small snag in the stitches, it certainly was important he memorize it!
"Erm. No, no, I don't believe I have." Sheik frowned, the faintest hint of heat appearing in his face. Good, this was awkward for Sheik too. Link tried to keep the vindictive satisfaction from taking over, but it was balancing out the embarrassment to a bearable point.
The silence hovered between them a while, gazes meeting and breaking off with alarming frequency, until enough became enough. Well…
"One way to find out." Link breathed out in a rush, flushing, and came into reach.
"Of course," Sheik muttered back, just as flustered, and took Link's wrist up for the second time. "… so… I suppose you wouldn't want it to hurt, then?"
Link gave him a wide-eyed look. Of all the things he shouldn't ask… "Uh… could you…?" They really should… move the topic away from this territory. The light was covering up a lot of red in both of their visages, but not all, and it was getting terribly obvious that neither of them were in familiar grounds, let alone friendly ones… He supposed it was better than if Sheik had had the ability to be nonchalant about it. He probably would have gone insane if Sheik treated this casually.
"If you wanted me to…"Another awkward pause. "Or I could… be very careful so you barely feel…"
"Uh, just not hurting is fine." Link mumbled, and looked away. He could still see at the corner of his eyes, though, and it took everything to keep from jumping out of his skin. Sheik brought the wrist to his mouth and pressed his lips to it. His eyes, Link noticed, glossed over the slightest bit so they were a shimmering red instead of the hue of half-dried blood.
Soft wetness touched his skin and made him jolt. "What are you doing?" He demanded breathlessly with his trepidation renewed.
"Looking for a vein," Sheik answered, not pulling back from his wrist. His eyes flit shut. Breath and warmth on his skin made Link shudder. Far too long a time later – less than ten heartbeats - Sheik found what he was looking for and pressed in.
His teeth didn't just look it - they really were sharp, like the teeth of keese that drank from other animals. They slipped into Link's skin terribly easy and he caught himself staring – not just at the corner of his eye but head on, open staring - at what he could, fixated on the morbid spectacle.
Sheik pulled them out again and ran his fingers in a very gentle way over the back of Link's arm where he held it. His eyes had gone glassier than before, his pupils disappeared in a sea of red, and there was a soft little smile touching on the edges of his lips. Something about it, painted faintly in the lines of his face, told Link it wasn't Sheik's smile in the truest sense. A pink tongue poked out and lapped the blood that ran quietly from the wound. He wasn't rough at all, but his eyes were shining like possessing gems and it wasn't really Sheik he was looking at, and there was something terribly uncomfortable about the whole thing, something deeper. And Link tried not to think about the more intimate implications that his mind could form.
And they really wanted to form. The blood kept flowing, longer than he knew it ever should've. Watching the faint red gleam of his own life slipping out, he wondered why it didn't clot. The firelight flickered and sputtered, but didn't draw his eyes from Sheik's face, or his too-clean wrist, or the tan fingers holding it so gently. The blood kept leaking. Eventually he resolved to ask, but… later. Now he wasn't sure he could form words. Or… syllables…
An implication he had really been doing so well to avoid popped into his mind, watching Sheik's gentle smile and the blood brushing on his lips, which he licked clean with nary a thought.
Oh, damn it. Link came to the unfortunate realization - through his pounding heart and the feeling of lightness in his head - that his face was on fire. At that point, he wondered how Sheik was getting any blood from his arm at all.
The last torch flickered out just when Sheik pulled back, and he tugged on Link until their shoulders touched. Blackness was barely returned to his eyes, and there was still a sense of hazy, feral instinct in the way he smiled and moved. The hands on Link became languid and protective.
Melodic words stood out in the darkness, slow and gentle, and then in a flash of indigo they were in a sunny room again. Rough hewn earth was replaced with polished smooth stone. Sleep crashed against him, a command and a tidal wave, and Sheik slumped over.
Too much magic… he overdid it. Link considered hazily, though he wasn't sure if he meant his own magic or Sheik's spell. Light spilled across them, warm and gentle, and he really wanted… to give into that warmth against him. So, succumbing to the fluttering feeling in his chest, and the waves of dizziness that washed over him, he closed his eyes just a second. And then he collapsed from a combination of blood loss and exhaustion.
How much magic do those spells take, anyway?
White corridors yawned into everlasting light on either side of him, stretching on into nothingness or perhaps opening up entire worlds, he really couldn't be certain. Strands of amber and gold faded in and out of existence like a skulltula's silk, brushing against his face softly before evanscing. There was one window down the hall – he moved towards it, and settled into a shaft of sunlight. But outside it was only day for a second.
The sunlight was swallowed by stormy skies, and the beautiful world melted into a wasteland, filled with smoke and corpses. He watched from the window as men and woman ran screaming from something unseen, but he couldn't move. He watched the darkness swallow up everything, but he couldn't move.
A spectre flickered in the darkness – Iblis emerged in a plume of smokeless fire, a sad look on his face. Chains kept him in place. Crows settled in the carnage cried to him, and flew up carrying balls of light like wingless fae… they all were red, a sad color like shattered garnets and drops of blood on a stone floor, and dissipated in his pale-grey hands when Iblis took them.
The darkness swallowed everything. The black curtain had closed, and he supposed that act was over.
Light scattered in again, slowly, and the world had changed. Walls upon walls of books and the grinning draugr from the Devil Guard book was leaning in the window which overlooked the desert sky, keening a melody about birds with wings torn cleanly off. The smell of blood was sunk into the space, and looking down Link found circles of it painted on the ground, fresh red and old brown and ancient green all swirling together. One the last note of the song the room flashed white, and stayed white, like the opposite of Iblis's space – a skull clattered onto the nothing before his toes.
In spite of the horror he'd feel in the woken realm, he cocked his head and regarded it with quiet curiosity.
It grinned at him. The light swallowed everything, even the shadows of its face.
…
He woke up in the hold of disconcerting nausea, and groaned. "Bucket." What his mind hazily indentified as Sheik's voice called from somewhere above him, and a wood and metal one was kicked into his hands. Heaving himself up to clutch it, he retched.
"Oh, Link." Someone else's voice, Zelda's his foggy mind realized, cooed from above him. It was thick with tears. Soothing words murmured too low for him to hear came in Sheik's rougher tones, and he begged for his stomach to settle. The illness didn't leave him for a while longer regardless, and he used the bucket at least thrice more before his body either decided that it was done, or simply realized the futility of trying to purge itself of nothing. He sat up, passing his tongue over his lips and shuddering with disgust.
"Good morning, Link." Zelda murmured in a subdued voice.
Remind me, Zelda. What's good about this morning? He turned to looked at her with teary eyes, and found the Lady's were worse.
The King is dead. He sighed at the darkness whirling through his mind, settling on the floor so he faced them. Sheik, his cowl absent, was sat upon the bed to carefully embrace Zelda. The lady herself was all-but collapsed on him, watching Link with swollen red eyes. "The next time you two go out to kill something, and he gets hurt, please tie him up so he doesn't make it worse." She asked Link tiredly. He knew Sheik was hurt, but…
"What did he do?" He asked, half-worried half-exasperated and fully ignoring the 'I'm still here' glare he and the Lady both received.
"He was running around with broken ribs. He didn't even bother mentioning them to me until I jarred them – he did so by hissing and then denying a problem." Zelda grumbled, giving a sharp look up toward her guardian, who looked in the other direction with all the maturity of a scolded child.
"Sheik." Link twitched.
"You have no room to talk." His friend shot back, cradling Zelda to his chest while she laughed in a quiet tone, smiling through the grief.
A second passed before her eyes watered again. Sheik closed his own and stroked her hair. Sitting on the floor feeling awkward, Link remembered the absolutely disgusting bucket in his hand and moved to the window.
He was careful to dump it behind some bushes, and not on anyone's head. (That had really sucked when it happened to him.)
When he turned back Zelda's soft sobbing had died down again, and she was dabbing her face with a cloth. Moving it over her eyes softly, she sniffled once. "Oh, yes…" She caught his gaze, "Link. I found a book you might want... it's on the desk, I just…" She shuddered and sighed, tucking her face away in the crook of Sheik's neck. She kept like that awhile, shaking with little moments of stillness, though no sobs issued.
He looked to Sheik half-nervous, and the other glanced towards the book and twisted his lips. Being able to see them was strange, Link caught himself thinking, even though what seemed like minutes ago they'd been pressed to the pulse of his existence.
Zelda's room was neat as ever – so mostly neat, if he ignored the gown tossed on the floor like a rug or bit of rubbish – and the curtains drawn so she could see the sun. The desk in the corner only had a little bit of light from the window falling upon it, and it touched on the corner of a non-descript black volume. Cracking it open found the title as 'Guide to Cambion, Darkness and other Anomalies of Night. Companion volume to Atlas of Ghouls' - he frowned, reaching into his hat for the piece of paper from so long ago. Same author.
Somewhat more hopefully he turned the page. The table of contents listed several chapters, for repelling and containing dark magic as well as… using it… a section on Cambion, whatever those precisely were, and a mythology section detailing rituals for Iblis and funerals. He wondered how many rites were usually performed before the bodies were left for the birds. Also, when the King's funeral would be…? Though now wasn't the best of times to ask, his mind was quick to reason. He would find out very soon, anyway…
Sucking in a breath, he looked back up at Zelda. He wished today would end. Right then the future seemed so far away.
About midday, Zelda shooed them from her room on the premise of finding food. Sheik rolled his eyes and found a scarf to cover his face before trotting out, while Link lingered in the doorway. Before he could let himself think better of it, he stepped over and gave Zelda a quick hug, something Saria never failed to do when he was upset, and left. He headed for the castle gates, alone once again. Sheik had disappeared.
In the dark passage, Impa was waiting. What happened? He knew it was on his face, flashing in waves and spikes of anger. Words really weren't necessary, then – Impa knew him well enough to understand everything. His eyes flickered towards her own, and he cocked his head.
"Poison." She answered tersely, uncrossing her arms. "Very natural-looking."
"How… charming." Sheik muttered, narrowing his eyes. Zelda's teary face echoed in his mind, with the half-lost words written in stone.
… you who are nameless… to obey… only granted by your master…
When he found out who'd done it… His fingers clenched. Red streaks painted his mind… he would rip them apart. Across the dark space, Impa watched him quietly. Very clearly she knew the thoughts lingering inside of his mind, but didn't speak back up.
Rage would swallow his grief, and make him efficient.
Perhaps, on a better occasion, she would be interested in the murmuring of the castle. Other things crowded her thoughts today though, a plague of what-ifs and hazy tears.
Truly it was amazing, how so quickly life could and would change, and plans were made to alter. One day you could be imagining someone with you for years to come - watching you marry, holding your child, pressing a kiss to your forehead and promising you that come what may, you're still his little girl.
But the next day, those thoughts crash to the earth like broken birds and shards of glass shattered, and that possibility, that future disappears. You're alone at that wedding isle - he isn't there to give you away. Your husband comes to hold his new child but there is no quietly beaming face in the background. That kiss, that last kiss, you never get, because that person is gone forever and you can never have those chances back.
The castle around her was barely there, a background event dwarfed by the intensity of her innermost thoughts and feelings. Sadness and little tinges of guilt – because I loved him, but I love Sheik, and he would always hurt him and I- how could they ask me to-? Please don't let our story end like this, please please please I would give anything at all- dogged her no matter how noisy the world was, for she was an island unto herself. Isolation was the worst thing a grieving mind could suffer.
Her fingers trailed through her hair, slow and soft, tugging on the knots that had formed. She'd been rushing about as of late… hadn't allowed the maids time to style it, or given herself the little moments necessary in their steed.
There was… still a funeral to plan. Announcements to be sent, formalities to attend. She ordered them written, those strange and dreaded invitations, and sat down to write the most important herself. Tears dripped onto her pages several times, ruining them and forcing a start-over from her very weary fingers. She wished she could just lay down and die herself, but a fact of existing was that she would have to keep walking until the day she simply couldn't. There was no time to linger on the precipice for the living, they had to continue existing on their own until the sands of their own times, too, ran out…
About an hour in, someone knocked softly in the doorframe that she could swear she had blocked with the door itself. So wondering if there had been a particularly overbold servant hired, she dabbed a tissue to her nose and looked upwards. Link fidgeted under her scrutiny, looking very much like he wanted to reach out or run away. Perhaps both, she knew the feeling.
"… come in." She rasped, and winced – her voice cracked in the middle and she let out a half-strangled sob. Link carefully pulled the paper away from her, patting her nearest shoulder awkwardly. Silence lingering like the last light in a sunset sky, they stayed in limbo. She kept her eyes to the page and tried to forget her crowning would be the day after the funeral.
Biting back a sigh, Link settled in the window. Death… was strange, he decided, sometimes good but more often horrible. He knew it was part of the world, integral to existing and irremovable. The eventual fate to everything was to die.
That knowledge wasn't helping his friend, though, or him, or anyone else. In the end, it was just a fact. Cold salve to proof of existence. He could do better – if isolation was the worst gift, then he'd remedy it with companionship. He settled in beside Zelda and prepared for a very long wait.
The smell of decay lingered in the throne room. The corpse lay on a table in center, patiently awaiting burial. This was the most patient he'd ever been for Sheik... would ever be. Someone had shut his eyes; Sheik slid one open, assessing the pupil, before slipping it shut again.
After this, he was going to take a very long bath. He briefly considered talking Zelda into joining him, mainly because they hadn't sat and talked for a while and she needed to take break to care for herself for a few minutes, which then led to him amusing himself with imagining the faces each maid and lady in the castle would make upon finding out about their shared bathing. The city was so strange.
Back to the present, though. Not a scent of magic on the body. Then… he turned to walk away, heading for the stairs a few halls down. In the- deceased King's room, roped off and barricaded from the rest of the castle, he found what he was looking for. The room was all-but destroyed – in his last moments the king had been a man possessed, and he could see the path he'd taken in his frenzy clearly. Beside the bed he'd sipped his breakfast wine – something he indulged himself every morning - and moved across the room and about two thirds of the way, the illness set in. He grabbed at his chair for balance, overcompensated, toppled over along with the chair, who clattered and chipped on the back. Sheik checked. Next, the now-lost king cracked his head against the table and jarred the contents so they spilled over onto the floor, and in a calm moment drug himself to the bed and tried snatching at the sheets to stand. He became sick on those selfsame sheets, before he fell to spasms again. Sheik found a bit of blood and hair on the bed frame. The king had gone down hard over the corner, probably convulsing. Afterwards, he wouldn't have gotten back up.
Shortly after, he imagined, Zelda found him. Since he had been drinking, she was bringing him something without alcohol… one of the servants mentioned a shattered glass and spilt tea in the hallways. She'd told him the blood hadn't browned yet. He looked upward and his gaze caught on the empty chalice on the bedside table. Stone, somewhat heavy, finely carved - and with a slight film on the inside, one he'd never seen on the stoneware before. He took the chalice.
…
The sun shone bright and shimmering over the field. Link smiled at it, leaning over the window. "Don't fall out." Zelda warned him with a reserved smile, tearstains smudging her cheeks. He laughed, considered the image of Sheik hovering under the window with a paranoid look on his face, laughed harder, and then returned his gaze to the field past the castle walls. Some people were walking across it towards the woods, blue and gray smudges the size of ants. Perhaps they wanted to take a walk.
He'd like to take Zelda out there, too, albeit he doubted she'd let him. Still, the soft amber light of the world was soothing and warmed his skin where it touched. A welcome reprieve this high up, where the wind was sharp and cold and so often begged him to jump into its clutches. He watched the leaves fall from the highest trees in the courtyard below them.
"… I'm done these." Zelda murmured, breaking into his observation of the world. "Will you accompany me downstairs?" He stuck to her side in an instant, and the walk down the stairs had them passing many nobles and servants. Several stopped to offer condolences, some with solemness and some with tears, but he watched both wearily. The feeling of eyes on his back lingered and he knew Impa was following them from the rafters, since Sheik would have descended from his perch to rip someone's head from their high-born shoulders long before this moment. Not to say all of their words were insincere, just…
He played one hand over his baldric, and felt the mastersword bump against his back. For whatever reason, this made several people veer away from them. Link smiled, though not kindly. Zelda glanced back and raised an eyebrow at the dry expression on him.
The one always with the sheikah…
Earth-skinned demons… red eyes… fangs of the beast… I'm certain it was his unruly behavior that brought on the king's untimely death.
One of his ears twitched. Link's smile disappeared, and he tilted his head to listen to the murmuring of the maids they were passing. The women hushed themselves just beside him, but continued after what he presumed were a few cautionary glances to his back.
Those monsters would have us all, I think. They have already infected the castle.
He didn't like that at all.
…
Certain flowers only grew in certain regions.
Exotic ones were popular with the court ladies as of late – in particular, he recalled a lacey white flower, difficult to obtain because it only grew in the deep swamps on the west border of Weiss.
The dungeons were as unwelcoming as ever – he'd stayed the night in here, once, and it hadn't been under Ganon's reign. He had hated the place since, but he probably would've hated it anyway – it reminded too much of desolation and dark things that didn't deserve light. The stone stretched long and charcoal gray in front of him, and he stopped in front of one cell.
The man inside didn't bother looking up, thumbs twiddling with too much idle amusement, and all Sheik could see of his features was a large and twisted smile. Reminding of carnage and burning and pain, it was easily the darkest thing the dungeon's had to offer.
In the war, he had happily taken advantage – raping women and children, killing anyone who crossed him or just caught his eye, wantonly searching out chaos for pleasure. What he enjoyed the most was… probably the screams… the horror and suffering in someone's eyes as he defiled them. Sheik knew very much about him – he used to work with him.
This man was a monster.
Sheik leaned on the stone beside the cell bars. "Would you like to play a game?"
"Tomorrow?"
"Yes – we have moved it up; it must be as soon as possible."
Link cocked his head, hovering by the throne while Zelda spoke. He supposed he should feel like a lapdog, but he was only here for Zelda, and all the seedy advisors in the world wouldn't convince him to leave. And anyway, it only took one of him to convince those same advisors to get lost if his mood was foul enough.
Right now his expression surveying the court was too sharp, lingering on the latest visitor. Zelda would be discussing marriage tomorrow. He wondered if Sheik knew yet – doubtful, since they'd only just heard of it, but the man had ways. (Ways, he suspected, that were bordering on illegal and involved a good deal of eavesdropping, but Sheik was Sheik.) White edged into his vision and he cocked his head to regard, with no little curiosity, the Duke of Weiss. The man looked deeply troubled, and swept into the room with the obnoxiously graceful hurry highborns were taught from the cradle.
Link didn't really realize all of that, though, just that Sheik greatly disliked the man for whatever reason. (Likely starting with 'engagement', involving 'king', and somehow ending with 'queen Zelda') Typically, Sheik's intuition did not fail them, honed from years of being exploited, enslaved and looked down on. He had a wonderful sense of when someone was about to screw them over. Link tried listening to him, no matter how docile a person seemed.
"Milady, is it your will that the funeral should be restricted to the noble classes?" He demanded in urgent tones, all-but disregarding everything outside Zelda's gaze. The young woman stood, pressing her hand against the arms of the throne.
"Of course not." Link watched her lips curl into a troubled frown from the corner of his gaze. "Though we will have a viewing the morn of, there will be a procession all the way to Kakariko, where my father will be buried to rest with our family in the royal tomb." Link took a moment to shudder. His first encounter with redead. "From the castle gates onward, all the citizens are entitled attendance. The funeral itself will be in the field." She sat back down after she'd finished, expression dark and irritated.
The duke stalled a moment, then deflated the smallest amount. "I see… then I have listened to poor sources. I apologize for your trouble, milady." He bowed, so low his hair slipped from the hood of his ganache. "May I approach?" He asked quietly.
"Yes." Zelda replied, just as quiet, and he moved to kneel beside her hand.
"I hope you are doing better, Lady Zelda."
"Only a few days have passed. The wounds are fresh." She murmured back, and Link felt his heart clench and ache at her voice. And with that man so close beside her while tears threatened to spill… Sheik would have a fit.
Link stepped forward. "Zelda. I… need to speak to you privately, if that is acceptable." She looked up, eyes glassy but curiosity shining in them.
"Of course." She turned to the duke with an apologetic look and excused herself. He waved it off, smiling solemnly at them, and remarked, "Everything fades in the stream of time." in their passing.
Somehow, Link didn't find that reassuring. This ache would fade, but so would every joy. Another reminder of life's lonely, ephemeral lot.
They stopped in a near-empty hall.
"What is it?" Zelda asked him very calmly, her face still touched red from not-quite-shed tears.
"When did you last eat?" He asked, putting his hands on her shoulders.
"This morning." She frowned at him, cocking her head and narrowing her eyes, like another blond he knew. "Was that all, Link?" She appreciated the discretion, but…
"Not quite." He mumbled back. "… I don't think Sheik wants you near that man." Zelda's look turned just the slightest bit wry.
"Then he may take it up with me." She said calmly, arching one brow at him.
"And if he finds out I stood there and let that man near enough to touch you, he would murder me." Was the utterance Link returned to her, quite serious, as he searched her eyes.
"Sheik wouldn't murder you – he loves you." Zelda announced while she waved it off. "In any case, why do you keep calling Sir Hell 'that man'? Its… dehumanizing. It's not like you."
… Actually, it kind-of was, since thinking in those terms made fighting easier, but he wouldn't correct her.
"If Sheik doesn't trust him… I'm sure there's something we're not seeing, and I don't want to be caught unaware." He added faintly in his mind we've already had enough of that.
Dark eyes gleamed, though from interest or insanity one couldn't be sure. "What are the stakes?"
Shrugging, careless and nonchalant, Sheik let his eyes go darker. "Your life." It was said very unremarkably, like mentioning the coming winter. "Heads or tails, you see. If you get heads, you die. If you get tails… you'll be set free."
The grin went back a little further to show jagged teeth. Sheik couldn't remember if he'd practiced cannibalism once the cows had died, but he supposed it didn't matter. The man was a plague on the world, what was the weight of one more sin?
Gleaming again, though definitively in interest this time, the man's eyes caught his. "What will we play with?" He asked, casting too-eager glances toward the lock.
Sheik cocked his head so his fringe covered more flesh. "This goblet… if I'm wrong, the wine in here is the finest in the castle."
The man grinned. "And if I survive, you'll let me out?"
"Of course. It doesn't really matter, though. I imagine you're very bored living in here."
The man held out his hand – he expected to win. The chances of Sheik being right didn't even come into play to him.
A complete and true monster, Sheik reflected again. He could well be setting this loose on the kingdom, if the poison were too weak, or simply not in the goblet at all. Then again…
He was very sure.
Zelda returned to the throne room shortly afterwards, but beyond the funeral preparation they had little to do. About three hours after the fact Link convinced her to leave, so that they could at least walk in the meadow between the castle and the gates.
The first few moments after he drank it were tentative, his eyes fixed on the chalice and Sheik's eyes on him. When it became clear he wouldn't immediately drop to the floor, frothing at the mouth and howling, he looked up with a grin of triumph slowly working back across his features. "Looks as though I've won." He murmured.
Sheik cocked his head.
The cell door clicked open.
Wrapping a bit of rope over his wrists, 'just for appearances', they began out of the dungeon, Sheik carefully directing them to a servant's door that lead to the field behind the castle. "I'll take you a mile into the forest, and then you're on your own." Sheik told him quietly, leading him away like an executioner taking a criminal on his last mile. The man chuckled, eyes roving over the land around them. His gray clothes and paled skin (from too little sun, Sheik supposed) made him look like a mudge of charcoal against the world.
"Once we get past the trees, can I get these ropes off?"
"Why? Are they too tight?" Sheik asked calmly, not looking anywhere but ahead.
The man frowned. "Nah, principle of the matter."
"Well, you can't." Sheik decided, "We need them on in case anyone sees us in the trees. At the point where we will separate, it will cease to matter." Sheik murmured, eyeing the bound hand in front of him.
"… whatever." Even the negative wouldn't ruin the monster's giddiness at freedom. The stretch between them and freedom was a good mile, though; one trudged over in silence and barely restrained glee until about halfway. Sheik didn't think he should've celebrated so early anyhow. The man groaned and swayed, stopping to stoop over. "Damn, I really became lax inside." He gasped, before putting a hand to his forehead and vomiting. Sheik didn't look away, but neither did he move to help, and soon the freed prisoner was back on his feet and they were moving again.
He stayed silent and more subdued than before, but the way he swayed and hissed suggested he was still nauseous. Watching all of it, Sheik didn't speak. The sun had fallen a little further in the sky when the first shadows from the trees touched on them, and soon they couldn't see the sun at all over the topmost branches. On the presumed prisoner, a little bit of the dark, happy smile was returning. It promised pain and corpses. Sheik knew both would be fulfilled today.
Another wave of nausea hit the criminal, and he clutched his stomach and groaned but didn't vomit. "Must've gotten heatstroke…" He muttered, pushing forward. Following quietly, Sheik glanced around and caught sight of a marker – a strip of dark green tied to what used to be a trees base, but was now several feet above their heads. Well over halfway in.
"You know, I'm surprised, Red devil. I figured you were executing me on orders of the king." The man commented in light tones and heavy breathes.
"Have you ever known me to play games for an execution?" He replied seriously, arching a brow in disdain. "I'm not you."
"No need to be rude." He muttered back, smirking.
"In any case, the king died just a few days ago." The whole forest seemed to quiet for scant seconds. The hylian and sheikah in their midst had more to do with it than any sense of mourning, he knew.
"Eh?" The one escorted glanced back. "That's why there weren't any guards on the cells?"
"I suppose." Again, the forest rustled around them.
The man frowned and began to rub his stomach lightly. "Anything to eat in here?" He wondered in a quieter voice.
"It's forest." Sheik's answer got him a slightly darker, manic smile.
"Riiight…" He muttered, cocking his head. "We almost there?"
"We are four meters away."
"Wonderful." He cooed, and picked up the pace. A few heartbeats after, he began to sweat – very badly, stroking his throat with a nervous expression.
Two meters from the agreed endpoint, his body began to seize up. At one meter, he dropped, writhing and gasping, onto the leaf-strewn floor. The cicadas chirped quietly around them. High above, a bird whistled.
"Looks as though I've won." Sheik commented neutrally, kicking a little dirt over the corpse. He turned back the way he'd come.
The man hadn't finished convulsing, but he was definitely dead.
…
"They used quite a large amount in the concentration. Just what was left in the cup was enough to kill another Hylian." Impa's eyes were trained on him as he reported, standing in the shadow beside the window.
"I see…" She murmured softly, narrowing her eyes at him. "I will continue for today - but first we need to talk about another matter."
"… another?" Expression turned quizzical under the cowl, he blinked at her. "What is it?"
She crossed her arms and gave him a dry look. "I saw Link earlier." She told him sternly. Her eyes were sharp and the bright light cast the other half of her face in shadow. For whatever reason, Sheik began to dread the coming conversation. "What exactly happened on Death Mountain, Sheik?"
… ah.
"I plead the fifth."
"That isn't available." She deadpanned and narrowed her eyes. He bit back on the urge to toe the ground with shame, because that would be an admission.
"Ah… we were closed in after we dealt with the problem. We couldn't get out, as you know I was injured… and I didn't have the energy to teleport us both… so we agreed…" He silenced himself, watching Impa carefully. The returned stare was impassive and revealed the predictable nothing Impa favored.
"… I see. I will consider the circumstances, but rest assured this will arise again – next time in the presence of Link." A curse wanted to spill out, so he bit his tongue.
"Yes ma'am." He sighed, rolling out his shoulders. He supposed he'd go find Zelda now.
…
Watching Link was always… interesting, Zelda reflected. Right then, for example, he had acquired a stick and was trying to… edge closer to some butterflies…
Ahem. Not bothering to wipe the half-confused smile off her face, she cocked her head. One butterfly was just about to land on said stick when Sheik decided to put the fear of god in them both, and jumped down from the ledge by the castle wall to land right between them. Link broke the stick over his head.
Sheik turned and gave him a measured look.
"… sorry."
"I suppose we're even." He muttered back dryly. Zelda slowly removed her hand from where it was clutching her still-franticly beating heart.
"Please refrain from doing that, Sheik. You're going to make my hair go gray…" The man turned to frown at her, apparently unbothered by the whole broken stick ordeal. The branch was more long than thick anyway.
"What? I was very loud approaching…"
"I'm loud, Sheik. You aren't loud. You're like… a cat." Link groaned, shaking his head. An agreement rose from Zelda. Sheik twitched.
"In any case, what did you do today, Sheik?" Zelda's question broke off whatever argument was forthcoming. Link turned an interested gaze to the shadow. Some leaves blew by, the breeze ruffling their hair and clothes.
"I had some things I had to take care of." Sheik answered quietly. His tone was measured and neutral, but he made up for it by tugging his cowl down to smile at them. Red eyes flickered from one to the other. "I suppose Link kept you safe in my steed?"
Link bit back another groan. Zelda's gaze turned sharp. "Oh, Sheik. Of course." Somehow she made that sound irritable, and colder than the autumn's wind. Supposing she was still upset about the issue with the duke – lady could hold a grudge like no one knew – Link carefully edged behind Sheik, who turned to give him a curious look before addressing Zelda again.
"I'm happy to hear that. I sincerely apologize for my absence." He bowed, and Zelda's eyes softened.
"… if you come here, and give me a kiss, I'll forgive you."
Sheik straightened back up, and Link looked on to see if he'd do it, when the sound of clanking metal reached them. A soldier ran straight to Zelda, huffing and puffing. "Milady! A body was found in the woods beyond the castle." Link didn't really see why that warranted such a rush - when he'd first ventured into the outside world, he knew he would have been horrified at this news, but he'd moved between wilderness and cities for over seven years now (seven years that were only in his head, and a final year he knew was real). The world was dangerous. But he kept those thoughts to himself while Zelda frowned. It was sad, but it happened – rather commonly, he thought. It shouldn't even be worth reporting.
To his faint surprise, Zelda said as much – though of course in gentler terms - but the guard pressed on, "He is- was a prisoner that until now was thought to still be in his cell!" Link had been watching Zelda, but something shifting caught his attention.
He turned a little; just enough to see at the corner of his vision – Sheik's cowl was still down. He was frowning, almost thoughtful looking, and his arms were crossed and his eyes not-quite narrowed. Not widened in surprise, or gasping to reveal those vicious teeth, but simply pensive. There was no surprise in his countenance. When Zelda began to hurry back towards the castle after the guard, Link followed Sheik. They didn't follow Zelda.
In the side path, beside the channel and the servant's entrance where milk was delivered, Sheik turned to face him. "What did you do?" Link breathed quietly, and Sheik cocked his head. The problem with Sheik contriving to look innocent… well, he couldn't even settle on just one problem. The man didn't have it in him, pure and simple.
"What do you mean?" Sheik sounded genuinely curious, and the frown tugging his lips was thoughtful in a different way from before – his eyes were focused on the present. Progress.
"You didn't seem surprised at all… that a prisoner got loose and was found dead just beyond the castle…"
"Two miles from the castle." Sheik corrected easily. 'Two', he'd said. Blue eyes narrowed.
"The guard never mentioned that."Link pointed out gently. The frown got a little bit worse. The wind brushed against them again while the sun set behind the trees. Sheik groaned, very quietly.
"I've gotten too close." He grumbled, before skulking over to Link and snatching up one wrist.
"Hey-" Sheik yanked harder, dragging them in through the servant door and the depths of the castle, until they were hidden in a half-lit corridor.
"Someone killed the king." Sheik murmured quietly to him, "I would appreciate it if you stuck around to help guard Zelda, but… I also don't want you involved." He shook his head. Link would be lying if he said he always understood, but he assumed Sheik didn't want his friends in danger, and that he could comprehend.
"Well, it's not as though there was ever another option." He pointed out gently, which made Sheik cant his head. His lips quirked in a smile. "But you still haven't answered my question." Smile gone.
"Ah… Do I really have to tell you?" Sheik asked him almost-mournfully, verging on a pout and brushing a strand of hair from Link's face. Link almost batted him away.
"I told you about Iblis, didn't I?"
"… It's different." It was unusual for him to mumble, Link thought. Really, it couldn't be anything that bad…
"Who was he?" He decided to start out gentle, easing himself and the Sheikah into it because otherwise, he was sure Sheik would flee. Or do something horrible to shut him up, like kiss him or something absurd… actually, considering it was Sheik…
It was very possible. The man was sneaky and quite insane when the mood suited. And Link wasn't really sure he'd stay on track if Sheik did anything like that.
"A man by the name of Keros. He ran amok under Ganondorf and was subsequently imprisoned when the false king was overthrown." Sheik replied methodically. Red eyes stood out in the dark, Link noticed. Even if he shouldn't be able to see the red. Perhaps it was an illusion.
The red is an illusion. Right.
"Did you know him?" Link continued carefully, cocking his head a little. Sheik quirked a brow at him.
"Regrettably." He sighed. "The man was a monster."
"Alright." Link murmured. Sheik had seen some horrifying things – monster was a pretty substantial term for him to use. He didn't think he really wanted to know what the man had done. "And… do you know how he got out?" Sheik watched him curiously for several seconds, before rushing him and pinning him to the wall, nose-to-nose.
"What the-!" Recovering enough to glare, he squirmed. "What the hell was that, Sheik?"
"Shh." Someone turned the corner. A guard passed them by, dark eyes trained ahead of him. He didn't look back before slipping into the dungeon. They must've been worried more would escape, Link realized. When he looked back to the too-close face of his friend, Sheik was frowning. "Shame." He murmured faintly, "I was hoping you'd turn bright red." Link felt his eye twitch, but couldn't bring himself to retort – it felt as though someone's hand were wrapped around his throat. Sheik leaned forward, past his line of vision so his face was beside Link's ear.
"And yes, I do. But that's a secret." He breathed teasingly before leaning back.
Link felt the blush on his face very clearly, but… "You did it, didn't you." He deadpanned despite it, staring at Sheik unamused.
The hall was filled with the faint sound of living, but no words.
Moments passed. Sheik carefully moved back into his own space. "Why?" Link continued questioning him, cocking his head to one side. Eyes narrowing – of course Link wouldn't give up on this – Sheik sighed. "I was hoping not to, but let's move to a better place." The unexpected passing of the guard had spooked him, and Link considered how often things happened that Sheik didn't expect. Bongo bongo, the depth of Link's pure hard-headedness, that time Zelda had jumped the garden wall…
… It happened more than one might think.
Returning to the topic of safe places to talk about conspiracies with spooked sheikah found the lyrist skulking off, and Link moving briskly behind him – he didn't even jump when Sheik made a sharp turn into a wall and kept going.
About a hundred feet down the hidden path – Link gawked at the size – Sheik turned to face him. "I already told you the king's death wasn't chance." Link nodded, eyes trained on Sheik's. "Well, there was a certain something in his room with him… I suspected it was vital to his demise. To be sure, I had to test it… That man is not someone who should have ever been put into prison."
Almost-imperceptibly, Link nodded in acceptance.
"Did he know?"
"… I told him he would die if I was right. He accepted my terms." Link caught that.
Then what did you offer… if you were wrong? Red eyes crinkled slightly when he asked aloud. "My body." Sheik deadpanned.
… Link really wanted to punch him. "That… that's very funny, Sheik. I'm glad to see you've developed some humor." He stammered, trying to rein in the violent urge.
"I blame you." The man continued in the same tone as before, the one that would drive Link to smash his head into the wall if he didn't quit it. The urge to punch him grew… exponentially… stronger.
"Be serious, Sheik." He sighed. The other blond quirked an eyebrow at him in return, trying to clearly telegraph just how absurd that statement was, coming from Link to him. Link staunchly ignored the implication – later he'd recall it and just curl up and die or something, from laughing too much.
"… alright. I told him if I was wrong, I would let him go."
… Oh. For a moment, he could honestly swear he thought the ceiling had crashed around them. A second after though, he realized he was wrong and that that had really just been said. Sheik was careful to act nonchalant, looking the other way, but his arms were crossed. His tone betrayed a lot of displeasure. His whole body was tense, and after a few moments spent looking him over and determining this, Link had the uncomfortable realization that Sheik wasn't kidding.
"… didn't know you liked to gamble." He settled on finally, watching the flicker of red eyes in the dark.
"I was very sure of my odds." Sheik returned, voice quiet in the almost empty space. The atmosphere between them was horribly icy all of the sudden, Kakariko's-graveyard-at-night cold.
Link frowned, cocking his head. "… okay." He murmured, though he didn't touch the other. "Do you… want to go find Zelda?"
"No." He said bluntly. "This is why I didn't want to tell you this – you're walking on eggshells and now I'm in a terrible mood." Link agreed- about the mood; it wasn't very common for Sheik to snap at him. He wouldn't call what he was doing 'walking on eggshells', though.
"… well, if you say he knew what would happen and did it anyway, then it's not your fault." Was what he settled on. Link knew it wasn't quite true, and so did Sheik he was sure, but hopefully he'd recognize the gesture for what it was.
Sheik looked back at him, carefully assessing. "… besides." He grumbled finally, finding whatever it was he was looking for, "I never said I wouldn't have alerted the guards."
Of course not. He wasn't sure why that had made his heart skip a beat. "So… what do you want to do, then?" He tried cheerfully, to which Sheik looked him dead in the eye.
"I want a bath." He groaned. "I was around a corpse all day."
Getting what one wanted tended to be a pleasant affair. The rarer it was, the more pleasant it seemed.
He almost never got his way, so when he did the feeling was bliss. Sheik was very much prepared for something to ruin it.
Link didn't seem inclined to agree, ardently chasing a fish that had most probably gotten in through the main line.
But nonetheless, Sheik was waiting. A thief in the castle running in here to hide. Another murder. Ganondorf rising from the dead as a country singer. He knew something would happen, because something always happened. Especially when he didn't have pants.
Gods, how he hated it. Scrubbing his hair furiously - The smell the smell the smell-! - he tried his best to put the little pessimistic voice in the back of his thoughts out a moment, just long enough for him to enjoy the feeling of too much filth being sloughed off like old skin. A cheer came from across the bathhouse. Link had caught the fish. "In Kakariko, the mountain heats these." Sheik mused aloud, catching the attention of the triumphant hunter. (was it still hunting when his quarry was a fish? Was it still fishing if he caught by hand?) Link cocked his head, ears twitching upward. "We think it's the magma heating up the water, but who knows. Maybe its fire spirits – that's what the people here think." For whatever reason, that had Link smiling. "Not going to talk?" Sheik asked a few minutes of silence later, tone wry. Leaning back with arms stretched out on the wood floor behind him, Sheik tried very hard to relax. And to stop picturing Ganondorf as a country singer. Link shrugged, gesturing abstractly. 'Don't feel like it.' or something along those lines.
To each their own, Sheik thought. He closed his eyes, enjoying the peculiar silence (though it never used to be peculiar around Link, time had a funny way of changing things). Outside them the pools of clean water were empty, and he was happy for the respite from wary stares and hushed voices. Something curious – and a little entertaining – he noticed about using the bathes was that his clothes were seen neatly folded outside and suddenly everyone had something more pressing to attend to. With the resurgence of Vampir myths, and newly-baptized believers, he figured it would only get worse. As long as they didn't interfere with his job, his Impa, Zelda, or Link (and they were all certainly, definitely, never-to-be-doubted at any moment his, no matter how much they might protest), or his clothes, he couldn't really claim to care.
As Sheik carefully worked some soap through his hair, the sound of clattering echoed from outside the door. Someone started screaming about a skulltula infestation in the west wing, and deku shrubs invading the garden. Also it was apparently storming outside. Something would probably blow up in the kitchens soon. Chaos was dancing outside the bathhouse door and calling them to join.
Once Sheik began to rinse his hair, there was uproar about the north hall being flash-flooded and children riding mattresses through the mire of rainwater. Smiling peacefully, he left the bath.
Chaos had been very insistent after all.
…
He honestly hadn't thought it possible, but he found a mage that scared him more than Zelda had as a girl. One of the court's magic-makers had been studying the power of the song of storms.
Neither Link nor Sheik liked thinking about that song for long, thanks to the entire paradox of who taught it to whom. Headaches ensued whenever they dredged up the patience.
Well… back on topic, the mage had decided to see what would happen if it was amplified using several instruments and some spells that Link didn't know but made Sheik sincerely wish for a neck to wrap his fingers around. The barrier spells on the room they worked in had failed, only the ones of the hall (an 'unnecessary precaution') kept the water from coating the entire castle, albeit spread out to much lesser depths.
While the thought of trudging through water like he was in the bottom of the well all day, every day, was entertaining, Sheik was glad the unnecessary precaution had been deemed by someone to be necessary anyway. Currently, Link was sitting beside him on a rafter, a too-contemplative look on his face as he eyed a table floating by. "Don't." Sheik muttered, because if he wasn't allowed to jump around the water-logged castle furnishings then Link wouldn't either.
… That didn't seem petty at all.
A teapot floated out one open door towards them next – leaning over, Link spotted a mouse sleeping comfortably inside. He wondered what was wrong with it. "Hey, Sheik, are there any white rabbits around here, too?"
"What?"
…
A hasty drain job, several castings of Din's fire, and an explanation that 'no, Link, I do not believe we keep any lagomorphs in the castle regardless of coloration', (and Sheik wondering why Link looked so amused) the hallway incident was resolved. They moved on to reporting the occurrence to the head of staff, who cursed the mages in three different tongues, and assuredly the maids in charge of clean up would do worse. Next on the list was obtaining food and then making sure both Sheik and Zelda ate it, which Link was quite ready to do. Sheik agreed with him on the Zelda issue, (he was not enlightened on the Sheik issue) and they made their way to the kitchens.
"Why were you asking about white rabbits, exactly?" Sheik muttered, rifling through a cabinet. He hated talking to the servants, so he was cooking something himself.
"Dormouse." Link grunted, ducking around a strung-up moblin corpse. "People eat these?" he mumbled in a perturbed voice – seemed a little too human to him. Not that that had stopped moblins from trying to eat him on several occasions.
"Please grab a tektite." Sheik reminded him, "A couple came in during the flood – they follow the water." Link smirked a little. Yes, he was aware of those - he'd gotten to jump around on furniture after all, thanks to them. At least Sheik hadn't seemed too upset by the excuse to act like ten year olds and play in the flooded corridor on half-submerged tables and beds.
He grabbed a nicer looking beast from the wall – well, as nice as any tektite could look – and avoided the moblin again on his way out. Those were dying out since Ganon's fall, and the royals were quite intent on hunting down the rest. Link was fine with that – he'd had quite a few unpleasant experiences with those. Including one where he'd been climbing a ladder when one charged and skewered him… ah, red fairies. They were the only reason he didn't die before even reaching the forest temple. He winced in recollection – gut wounds were fatal without a very skilled healer or those before-mentioned fairies on hand. Sheik would probably beat the crap out of him if he knew about all the times Link had managed to forget about a moblin before turning a corner. Sheik probably already had a very long list of things he was going to beat the crap out of him for, and just hadn't gotten around to fulfilling them. Yet. The bastard never actually forgot.
"Thank you." Sheik murmured, submerging the corpse in a sizable cauldron.
"You look like a witch." Link noted in amusement. Sheik paused – in that moment, offense was probably blooming. Link knew he had to get that habit of blurting things out around Sheik under control, and he had the horrible feeling that he was about to be maimed when the other glanced back over one shoulder at him.
Sheik turned slowly away from the cauldron, dragging one hand up Link's arm. While the hero stood frozen, something like 'if I don't move he can't see me' echoing through his mind, Sheik leaned in until their noses brushed. His eyes met Link's, and he smirked. "Really now. Can you still see it?" His breathe brushed over Link's lips, and the fingers against his shoulder curled up like claws and scratched gently. Yes, I can. In fact, it just got worse, Link twitched, feeling a flush form on his cheeks.
Sheik, content that he had once again screwed with the hero's head, went back to cooking.
Poor, dazed Link stumbled over to sit down at a table for the chefs. He wondered where they'd gone. A pale servant wandered inside their sphere of influence after some time, blue-tinged and sickly. Sheik raised an eyebrow as he looked her over. "You're far afield from home." He noted, which Link thought was a mild way to put it indeed. The poor thing looked as though she'd never seen daylight. The girl squeaked when she noticed them, and looking up to Sheik she let out a string of gibberish which made him narrow his eyes. "Behind those crates to the right. The sun will disappear soon." He told her, and the girl came to sit across from Link without another sound. He nodded to her, and her eyes darted over his face nervously before she nodded back.
Sheik's earlier sense of good humor had evaporated, the whole change settling over the kitchen like a sheet of snow. As he stirred the pot the muscles in his body seemed tense enough to snap.
When he put out the fire an hour and a half later, the girl stood from the table and slunk out the servant's exit to the side yard of the castle.
Link nudged Sheik worriedly when the man passed him by – Sheik sent him a dark look back, sighing as he retrieved a platter. "We're running out of time." He really wasn't expounding upon that the way it deserved. Link cocked his head. "That girl will return to her mistress shortly. And once she does, my time can be measured in minutes and seconds - that woman never waits long." He sighed, "She's already itching to rip apart whoever harmed the king."
"I thought you and Impa were the only ones who knew…" Link trailed off at the look on Sheik's face.
"The Twili's leader knows." He muttered. "She always knows." And he didn't sound particularly happy about that.
Link patted his shoulder, canting his head to the other side now. There was a worried light in Sheik's eyes, and it didn't flicker as they left the kitchens. Watching for it when he could, between hallways and fading hylians, Link guessed that it wouldn't die out until the problem was dealt with. He tried not to remember the magic seeping from the stone corpse, familiar and dark…
The people in the hallways were all slumped and murmuring, sad. The announcement the king was dead… it seemed to be a lifetime ago. He wondered if Sheik felt the same.
Neither of them had been close to the king but… hatred still wasn't apathy… Another glance was sent towards Sheik.
…
Zelda was on a bench in the keep's tower when they found her, gazing out the window at the looming moon. It had almost disappeared. Has it really been so close to a month? Link wondered, settling his hands on the sill before leaning out. He heard Sheik set down the tray with his usual speed, but he wasn't expecting the hand that fisted itself in the back of his tunic. He glanced back, eyebrows up, to find Sheik glaring at him and Zelda giving them both a slightly dazed smile. "You two…" She shook her head, chuckling softly. It was sadder than he liked, though that was unavoidable. He knew it would be for some time. "Link, I don't think Sheik is comfortable with how far you're leaning into the night."
Oh, but the night is just so sexy. I think I was just about ready to give myself up to it. Link rolled his eyes.
Still, the careful words of the queen were accentuated by a little tug, given to display Sheik's agreement on the matter. Flopping back with a dramatic sigh, he was careful and timed it just right so Sheik couldn't avoid him. He slumped cheerfully into the other's chest, while the sheikah stood more-or-less frozen. The silly man was not yet accustomed to Link fighting back in these matters.
Zelda chuckled again, averting her eyes. Rather mournfully (in Link's mind) it broke Sheik from his stunned-silent state. Impa had disappeared once they'd made clear their intention to linger with the queen, and excepting them the room was empty. About a second after Sheik's break from shock, Link realized he needed to work on picking his battles; taking full advantage of their position with Link leaning into him, Sheik wrapped his arms around Link's waist. He settled his head on one of the hero's shoulder's to chat with the queen.
Link wasn't as amused as he had been with their situation. "That was the freshest meat in the cellar, milady." They both had to bite back grins, though, Link glancing off towards the window and Sheik still managing to look at Zelda head-on. "In fact, it was killed right inside the castle."
Zelda started, eyebrows shooting towards her hairline. "What?"
"North wing flood." Sheik said sagely, very comfortable where he was wrapped around the Hero of Time. Zelda watched Link's face turn progressively redder with each breath from the Sheikah – they seemed to be hitting his ear.
"… Oh. Tektites came inside…?" Both of them nodded, "But I do recall the flood. The Duke of Weiss was staying down there, along with his servants and guard. I presume you two dealt with the monsters?" She asked evenly, beginning to divide the food into three portions, two much bigger than the last. Link frowned.
"Eat more than that." Sheik echoed his sentiments.
"Don't be silly, this share is for you." Zelda corrected with a mild grin.
"Oh, do forgive me." Sheik rolled his eyes. "And of course we took care of the beasts; do you really think the Hero of Time would leave beasts to roam the castle uninhibited?"
"He wouldn't, but you might." Zelda said it so softly they weren't sure they heard it, but Sheik smirked.
Probably wouldn't have bothered, Sheik grinned, if there hadn't been the obligation of using the furniture as platforms. What glorious fun. Zelda again began to eye Link's face while Sheik ran those thoughts over in his head, a mild grin smoothing over his face under the cowl.
"Sheik?"
"Mm?"
"Have I told you lately that you're a shameless beast?"
Sheik paused, cocking his head. "… no, not you, but someone did. I can't remember…" He shook his head. "Why do you ask?" He stayed where he was.
"Remove yourself from Link's person before his face explodes." Zelda told him seriously because indeed, the hero was quickly attaining the same red shade as a dodongo ready for detonation. Sheik glanced at the too-hot face, then back at the lady.
"Oh, boo." He muttered, grinning, but detached himself from the hero. He sat on the bench beside Zelda, carefully setting his plate on the inner edge of the wide sill. When Sheik was in a good mood, very little could deter it (not unlike any other mood he had, Link supposed.)
Case in point; "Why don't you sit on my lap?" Sheik asked with a cheerful grin. It was hard to tell if he was joking.
Link responded in kind. "Sheik." He muttered, narrowing his eyes like he was upset, "Zelda is right there."
Then Zelda started laughing at them. Link sat on the bench beside Sheik in the little remaining space, was handed a plate, and the three sat together and watched the clouds drift by whilst they ate.
Even in the dark cloak of an almost-new moon, Link could see the Sheikah tear painted over white.
…
Mourning bells echoed like the haunted cries of midnight sky and frozen earth in winter. Sheik and Link bowed their heads, ears still tuned carefully to the chime of the crowd. Zelda's voice broke in the eulogy only once, and when it was over she tucked her head against her brother's and sobbed quietly. Link kept beside them and dared anyone to say something, fingers on his baldric.
People came forward one by one, praying, kneeling, crying or placing gifts for life-after in the casket. Sheik would be among them, Link knew; he had carried a single black feather with them from the castle. He wondered if it meant a blessing or a curse.
The stone around his neck that was often so heavy seemed to lighten in the presence of the mourners and corpse, and for a moment he could feel the brush of slick feathers against his side. A black cloud that only he and perhaps Sheik could see, almost human, slithered to the body. A limb extended from the haze and drew toward itself a faded light from the amulet about the king's neck. After a moment watching Link realized, with a kind of detached horror, that it was a soul the hand drew out.
Navi had stayed gone the past few days – he missed her, yes, but he had to take care of Sheik and Zelda too. He wondered how she would feel upon seeing a hylian's life disappear. Maybe… she had seen it many times before. His memory was hazy, but the first sight of hylian death he'd ever caught kept flashing clear in his mind's eye. A bad alley, the smell of metal so strong in the air he could taste it. The uncomfortable clank of armor shifting against itself as a chest moved in struggles for breath. The solider stuttering something to him, about the Lady and something to give him…
And then he had stopped moving, half-open eyes glazing over and still staring at Link.
Half-blurred vision left him watching Impa approach the coffin. She carefully extended a bouquet of white, long-tendrilled flowers and black feathers to the wooden box, and rested them on the king's chest.
The haze cradled the soul quite gently, seeming to nod toward Impa. She didn't respond – Link wasn't sure she could see it at all.
This one has disappeared. It is for this reason you cannot dwell.
Then the dark mist shifted and murmured, drifting by him. The amulet grew heavy again.
Iblis was gone.
Something the god hadn't mentioned, or perhaps had thought obvious, was the changing weight. Link hadn't noticed it too quickly, caught up as he was in the wake of everything, like that first month after the war's end. But it was definitely there, caught in an ache of his neck was a memory of pain and deadweight. Without Iblis the amulet felt like lead chains.
As he watched the king be laid to rest, a memory of time passed swam up behind his eyes…
Three days after Ganondorf had died, he had gone to sleep. He dreamt of returning to the past, and emerging from the temple of time to watch Ganondorf be walked away from the castle in chains. He went back to the sleepy village by the Demon gate and the mountain with a name too dark, and found a nondescript house with a kind boy inside.
They talked for hours, and later with the Lady's blessing disappeared. That was well and good, and they were close, until one day they went stumbling through the darkness of forests lost to eternity and never known by Hylian gazes.
Sometime past their entrance, Link fell down a rabbit hole just out of his friends' reach. In his tumble Navi had been lost to him, and he wandered the wonderland around him to find her. He walked with a fairy named Tatl instead, who was looking for her brother Tael and their friend the skullkid who really wasn't quite their friend anymore. Above them a malevolent moon loomed, crashing into the earth at the end of three days, over and over, until he transcended the cycle of rebirth and struck down the darkness responsible. He wandered the land again, trying to find a way home. He knew Navi wasn't in the realm where he was.
Three years passed.
Another rabbit hole's shifting dark passage came and faded. He stumbled again into the sunlight below Death Mountain, disoriented and half-blind. A young man who'd been laying out flowers before graves had looked up in disbelief and without a moment to spare wrapped him up tight in strong arms. Blue light buzzed out of nothing and settled into his hair. And then, of course, he knew he was home. (It really was a wonderful feeling, so he pressed back in the embrace with a grateful smile)
It never really occurred to him that the boy he followed behind quietly looked like someone else he'd known, in the future (his past). That person didn't exist, of course, not there and not then, so the resemblance was just coincidence.
Link continued to wander the country. The older boy appeared and disappeared at will, sometimes walking beside him for days on end. He watched the way Link moved and swung the sword, but didn't correct or praise. He just watched. He always said when he was leaving. Otherwise he'd simply fade into dark, a presence at the back of Link's notice like the lingering rays in a sunset or the coolness of moonlight against his skin. He always came back, just like Navi.
Years passed and faded in that way. Link had only lost his temper once in the time, and a laughing young man had scolded him for it. (About a month later that same young man lost his temper, but when Link tried to point out that he was always being lectured about control he was laughed at. His friend's reply was more than strange, as well – 'it's different. I am not the hero')
Link stayed so near to him, he never noticed how the man looked just like someone gone when seven years had passed in full.
He just remembered red eyes and a very blue sky. One day, these things in his thoughts, he'd fallen asleep in the field.
Then Link woke up.
Seven years in a night.
Stumbling the next day from where he'd been sleeping – guest quarters in the castle, the couch because the bed was too soft – he had looked around in bewilderment, then down at his hands. Seven years in a night. When he checked his arms, the scars from the Other him were there.
Between the dream, which he would never have again, and the work of rebuilding the kingdom, everything blurred. He didn't realize he worked his fingers raw until he felt blood dripping down from torn calluses. He didn't realize he was in pain until his knees gave out. He'd had it happen so many times in the past, and again it had been going on without his notice. It would only lift again when they reached the graveyard.
Words that meant nothing soothed over him, Impa adding something to what had already been spoken. Fingers caught and tugged softly on his tunic – he glanced down and saw tanned flesh.
A barely-seen step brought him closer to the sides of the grieving siblings, and the fingers lingered on his tunic's hem. A few more people stepped up, saying things he wouldn't remember. The chain and gem seemed to be made of stones. Zelda's tears lulled just as it became time for the procession to the gravesite. She took up a lit torch, and began walking in the wavering daylight across the field. A thousand bodies followed her.
The three in the thousand that actually mattered kept close to her sides.
Link looked up at the sky, clear and burning up into a fantastic sunset. It was beautiful, like autumn leaves and broken dreams and glass. A world in recurring supernova – he wondered if it was better or worse than dreary gray skies and the plipplipplop of drops of rain. Smoke trails from Kakariko traced the sky in careful lines, the cracks in a mirror not yet shattered. Whippoorwills whistled in the trees. The world was fading to grey, the sun was dying, and night was being born again. The cycle of rebirth was unending. He wasn't sure if that was better or worse either.
Zelda stepped away from Sheik, though his hand lingered on her wrist – she wasn't bothered by it, taking it into her own after a moment. Link stepped a little faster to catch a glimpse of her face – the tiny bit of makeup she'd worn had smeared, and her eyes were swollen red. Tears stained her gloves, and she blew her nose into a handkerchief. She looked terrible, but no one would ever say it. Link himself would've been more worried if she'd looked perfect. Sheik tossed a glance behind them at the ladies painted up like dolls, and narrowed his eyes.
Yes, Link thought, funerals aren't a place for preening. Sheik seemed to agree with him, but he didn't speak. He sighed and ducked his head. Link watched the slump of his shoulders. Hate is not apathy.
'Was not', he supposed it would be now. Existence was fragile – for the poor, at least, it was common to disappear before even breeching adulthood. Their world was still war-ravaged and dangerous, even if that danger faded every day, just a little bit. Death wasn't new to him, and many times over (especially in the ice-and-flame grip of the desert wasteland) he had considered the notion of simply ceasing to be. There was something uniquely jarring about someone you knew fading from the world, though. He always forgot to account for it.
The pallbearers would have trouble getting up the stairs, he realized, but didn't move to help them. He was only here for Zelda, and Sheik, and the rest of the world could fade into the back of his mind for a while because he needed to be with them. Tomorrow, Zelda was to be crowned queen. The sun's last rays faded. The sun had set on Hyrule's Lion.
Sheik stopped, cocking his head and ignoring the perturbed look Zelda was giving him. Link sighed and closed his eyes, and whispers caught in his ears. Excited and hushed and everywhere, like a world of voices ripped open.
Something flashed in the dark. A woman stepped out of a tear in the world, orange-red hair – flames in darkness, Link thought - spilling over her back.
"Lady Midna." Sheik hissed– his time had just run out.
Zelda was curled up sleeping in the only bed. Night had crashed down like a heavy curtain, and after the funeral they'd gone to Impa's home to rest.
Outside, Sheik was stretched out over the flat roof of the cucco pen, lazy and graceful.
Up above on the house's roof, Midna kept close watch over him. Sharp eyes and ears took in everything, from the song of night birds to the rhythm of his breathing, but he didn't give a twitch.
"You haven't told her anything." Midna guessed easily, kicking out her legs so they hung over the side. Sheik grunted, which was as good an answer as any then. The cicadas were chirping in the distance, and occasionally a whippoorwill cried out. The stars were lovely tonight, he knew, but the moon was blighted by shadow and cloud. "She will find out, Sheik."
"That is why you're here." Sheik muttered, sighing. He heard Midna shift, sitting upright and likely offended at his words. He was good at upsetting her.
"I came to keep her company in grieving. It is what friends are for." She grumbled back at him, "And anyhow, she'll certainly need to loosen up after tomorrow." Sheik's eye flicked open to meet her's for the first time in that conversation.
"If you so much as think of giving her alcohol I will boil your entrails while they're still in your body. And then I will utilize you as a horse-and-cart speed bump."
Orange-red eyebrows rose disbelievingly – along with her hands in the universal gesture for 'please don't, mr. crazy person' – and a startled laugh escaped her.
"I would never dream of-"
"You don't need to, because you fantasize about it in waking." Sheik grumbled, narrowing his eyes.
The stars above them didn't blink or beat like hearts, but Sheik wondered if they were alive – infinite worlds in the distance or maybe ascended souls. Or just match-lights in the sky, it didn't matter. They were so far away.
He always hoped it didn't, anyway. (Stars looked better a million miles from his reaching fingers than when they were crashing towards the earth.) Every scar revealed… he shook his head and returned his attention to the twili noble, trying to gather his thoughts.
"… Midna…" He sighed, meeting her gaze squarely. "I'm asking you this as a favor – don't tell Zelda about the king."
"I don't give favors." She replied neutrally, a frown tugging her lips. "Why shouldn't she know?"
Sheik sucked in a breath – why, oh why…? Because Zelda looked outside her window, and saw goodness in the world. He had done his best to hide her from the war, and though he'd failed, if she didn't have to know about this…
He whispered these things to the twili's queen, who listened in a way attentive and contemplative, and most of all silent. "… it would rip her to pieces, if we didn't catch the perpetrator. She would never rest again." He whispered, fingers clenching into a fist. He hadn't saved her then… and he'd never be so worthless again…
"Is there a chance you wouldn't catch him, Sheik?" Midna drawled, challenge in her voice like knives tinkling against bells and glasses.
"Never." Sheik spat, baleful red eyes flashing up to her in the moonlight. She saw light glint off his fangs under the cowl from her high vantage.
"So what's the problem?" Nonchalant as if they'd been speaking of dinners and castles and slightly bleak weather, she made her mind up.
"I'm going to protect her. I won't have a breathe of this spoken, not if I can stop it, until I have the responsible party right where I want them, inside a grave."
She canted her head.
AN:
Sheik is not being a pervert with the whole bathing thing. Because it made sense (as much as death mountain with onsen makes sense, anyway) and would cause some culture clash, Kakariko doesn't have as many taboos on nudity as the city. Family members of the opposite sex, for example, could bath together, but wouldn't bathe with someone of the opposite gender outside their family. They wouldn't bathe with anyone of the same gender unless they were considered very close friends. There, bathing is used as a social activity that reinforces bonds and the ability to cooperate. (washing each other's backs. Shut up.)
Hm… it sounds like someone is being murdered OUR the bathroom. Why the hell is Noelle slamming into the wall? I'd better go check. Hope you guys enjoyed the chapter, tralalalala, ciao.
