Disclaimer: The Legend of Zelda, its characters and locations are all property of Nintendo. Any and all OCs and original locations belong to me unless specifically stated to belong to someone else.
The Hunt
Chapter 9
The water was freezing, but at least it didn't have a layer of congealed filth floating on top of it. It was a relief to be able to wrench off their soiled clothing and dive into the somewhat cleaner moat and furiously scrub at their skin. Sheik raked his nails over every inch of himself he could reach, feeling like he was sloughing off layer after layer of the repugnant sewers, certain that he would have to bleed before actually getting clean.
"Holy hell, this is cold," Link exclaimed, doing the exact same thing as Sheik, dunking his head underwater again and again while trying to get his hair free of...bits.
"It's better than what we just left behind," Sheik reminded him, feeling like the smell was inside his nose. "And lower your voice, we don't want to get caught out here. I have a feeling this'll be a difficult situation to describe to the guards up there." He pointed at the nearest tower of the city's defensive wall, where each window glowed from the warming fires within.
They were on the western edge of Castle Town, close to where the city wall met the northern mountain range that formed a natural defensive half-circle of sheer rock and steep cliffs, which had been vital in more than one ancient war. Here, the patrols were slightly less frequent than anywhere else on the wall, and the chances of getting caught were much smaller than, say, directly underneath the drawbridge. They could have followed the moat further west and washed themselves in the river that would eventually reach the Gerudo Valley, but that would have taken them forever, and Sheik had hoped to catch at least some sleep after an exhausting hunt like this.
"Right," Link agreed, definitely not particularly interested being arrested of public indecency. "How did you know about the passage, though?" he asked, his voice nearly a whisper, almost hidden beneath the sounds of splashing water.
Sheik glanced at Link...and hurriedly looked away when the Ordonian turned just enough for the moonlight to dance across his upper body and the well-toned muscles that shifted with each movement. Link's hands roamed across his abdominals, still scrubbing furiously, and further down... He looked away, his mouth dry.
Even now? he wondered, glaring pointedly down at a rebellious part of his body that could not be allowed to make itself known. He cleared his throat. "Er, it's an old defensive measure, from medieval times. If the city came under siege, the passage would be used to smuggle out both the civilian population and elite squads of soldiers who would strike at the enemy camps at night. Its existence has been forgotten by most in the past few centuries—I believe the only one who knows about it these days are the princess, a select few of her guards, and the hunters. We were informed of it in case there came a time when our presence would not be welcome in Hyrule. And, of course, should any of us ever feel the need to swim in the moat after a refreshing trek through the sewers."
Link snorted. "A very specific situation, that."
"The kings and queens of Hyrule have always been a forward-thinking and detail-oriented group."
"Clearly. I've always been more interested in the here and now, myself."
Such as the fact that you are absolutely beautiful, standing five feet away from me and bloody naked? Sheik wondered, unable to get his mind out of the gutter. Never mind the fact that Lor told him Link apparently felt the same way, but... No, definitely not an appropriate time to bring it up, he told himself. Especially not in public!
He would continue to admonish himself for his ridiculousness when he suddenly felt a feather-light touch at his back. He stiffened, and Link drew a quick breath behind him.
"Sorry," the Ordonian said hurriedly. "I didn't mean to...I just saw the scars, and—"
"It's...it's fine," Sheik said, happy he wasn't facing Link right now, for his blush could surely have been seen from the city walls. "Which one?"
"This one," Link whispered, letting his finger trail the long, straight scar that ran diagonally from Sheik's right shoulder to the middle of his back, a raised, white strip of skin. "What made it?"
Sheik suppressed the urge to shiver as he felt Link's gentle touch. "A...a gryphon. Sharp claws and beak. I got lucky by rolling out of its reach, but it left its mark nonetheless."
"And this one?" Link asked, trailing another scar. Two deep scratches beneath his left shoulder blade.
"Shrieker," Sheik explained. "Accidentally walked right into a nest of them. They didn't much appreciate my lantern or the flash of my pistol when I panicked."
Link paused. "I can't really imagine you panicking."
"I wasn't always the expert hunter you see in front of you, you know," Sheik said, chuckling.
"Expert?" Link said, rubbing the scratches gently, almost as if he wasn't aware of doing it himself. "In the time I've known you, I've saved your life twice...and it's barely been a month since we first met."
"I'm still young, and I've much to learn," Sheik admitted, trying not to enjoy the touches as much in case Link didn't mean anything by it other than showing admiration...or pity, perhaps? "I'm also, however, still alive. Each scar is a testament to a lesson I have learned."
"Like not to walk into a shrieker nest with a lit torch or lantern?"
"Exactly."
"I see..." Link trailed off with a chuckle, letting his fingers reach the pair of scars Sheik hoped he wouldn't find. Two deep-looking punctures, just beneath the left side of his ribs. "And these?"
Sheik paused, wondering if honesty was really the way to go with these. He didn't want to lie to Link, either, but how would he react to the truth? He'd be displeased...or so Sheik hoped, anyway.
"Assassin," Sheik whispered, closing his eyes and trying to ward off the memories of the night he'd suffered those injuries. Link's fingers stilled.
"What?" the voice was deathly quiet.
"Assassin," Sheik repeated. "I don't know if he was sent after me because I'm a hunter, or if it was because I'm a Sheikah, or even who hired him in the first place...honestly, I wasn't too concerned with the reason or contract giver at the time, on account of him stabbing me in the back, twice."
"What happened?"
"I was on my way back to Hyrule after a visit to the Studio. Stopped by a small city by the name of Kaerwall close to the Terminan border. He'd been following me for a while, apparently, and he saw his chance when I rented a room at the inn. I was wading my way through a drunken crowd in an attempt to order dinner, and he took the opportunity to shove a stiletto into my lung. He missed, thankfully, but the injury was life-threatening even so..."
He nearly gasped when Link's arms encircled him, just like they had back at the Temple...though now he felt the Ordonian tremble with barely-suppressed anger. "And then?" he asked.
"...er...I reacted faster than he'd thought I would, I suppose," Sheik said hesitantly, his train of thought momentarily derailed. "Spun around at the second stab, and shoved a dagger of my own into his neck. Cut through his carotid artery...and then I passed out. Don't really remember much after that. I woke up a week later, still in Kaerwall. A travelling surgeon had witnessed the attack, and while the other patrons in the bar wanted to throw me into the street to die, she insisted on having me brought up to her room, where she operated on me. She saved my life."
"Thank the Goddesses for that," Link said, his chin coming to rest on Sheik's shoulder, his warm breath ghosting over Sheik's cheek.
"That relieved, huh?" Sheik said, turning his slightly so he could look at Link, finding the Ordonian staring back at him. "How come?"
Link rolled his eyes. "You have to ask? Without you, I'd probably be dead right now, or sold into slavery. I wouldn't have gotten the chance to do things I could only have imagined in my wildest dreams, and...well, the sewer thing wasn't one of them, but it certainly was a unique experience and...and..." His eyes looked away, but his head remained where it was. "I...I wouldn't have heard Lor say..."
He trailed off and, before Sheik could ask exactly what Link had heard, turned to face him fully, letting his lips graze Sheik's carefully. Gently. Probing. It was the faintest of pressures, a mere touch of the wind. Then he retreated, looking meaningfully into Sheik's eyes, his own sparkling with excitement and fear. Sheik found his mouth dry once more, like a desert, and his tongue paralysed, unable to make a single sound. Instead, he leaned forward and kissed Link in return, just as carefully as Link had. The Ordonian's arms tightened around him, and a shiver passed through both their bodies as Sheik's lips erupted with heat.
They broke off seconds later, panting slightly both from the excitement and lack of oxygen. Link giggled (honest to Goddesses giggled) and turned away, probably blushing just as bad as Sheik was.
"Is something wrong?" Sheik asked, wondering if Link was laughing at him.
"Nothing, it's just...just...that was my first..."
"I see...how long have you been...exactly...?"
"Since the day I met you," Link admitted. "When you took off your cowl and smiled at me. Couldn't it off my mind for weeks...and then you showed up in Ordon and...and..." His jaw clenched as the memories of his village burning undoubtedly made an unwelcome appearance. "How about you?" he asked.
"The same," Sheik replied, feeling utterly foolish. It had taken Lor, who had all the subtlety of a sledgehammer to get it through his head...and even then Link had been forced to make the first move. Embarrassing. "How much did you hear? From Lor, I mean..."
"Enough," Link said firmly. "And I'm not sorry for eavesdropping."
I'm glad you're not, Sheik thought. Or we'd still be bumbling around each other, I'm sure...
A chilly wind had begun to blow, and the two of them were shivering by now, goose bumps covering their skin. "Perhaps it is time to head back," Sheik suggested, looking at their respective piles of clothing on the shore. They'd done their best at rinsing them thoroughly before attempting to clean their bodies, but a quick whiff at both himself and the clothes revealed that clean water on its own had not done the trick. "At least we'll be allowed inside the Temple now, and can make use of their baths."
Link looked slightly disappointed at not being able to kiss some more (or so Sheik hoped, selfishly), but when his teeth began chattering as another gust of wind blew by, he nodded.
It would be an uncomfortable walk back to the Temple, in wet and freezing cold clothes, but it'd be worth suffering after the night's revelations...and the decision Sheik had made after emerging from the sewers. He'd tell Link about it later.
"Well?"
"I've made some enquiries, and learned a few things."
The shadow looked unbearably smug, with his arms crossed and leaning against the bedpost, regarding his employer with a triumphant gaze. Whether it was because he'd succeeded in his information gathering and had his suspicions confirmed, or that he'd caught the young lord sleeping and clutching a pillow like a stuffed toy, only he knew.
"I certainly hope it is worth waking me in the middle of the night for," the lord said, rubbing his eyes sleepily and glaring at the shadow.
"Depends on how badly you want to know who's responsible for the loss of your investment." The shadow stretched, sighing happily when several of his joints popped loudly. If he noticed the lord wincing at every single pop, he didn't comment. "I assume that is still of interest?"
"Of course," the lord said, scowling. "Now tell me."
"What's the magic word?"
"Ascal!"
The shadow allowed himself a chuckle at the sheer exasperation in his lord's voice before lowering himself to sit on the edge of the spacious bed, regarding the dishevelled young man beneath the covers. His hair was in complete disarray, a far cry from the carefully arranged sweeps he wore it in during the day. His eyes were dark with sleep, the slightly upturned nose wrinkled in annoyance. His mouth was downturned, almost pouting like a child. Ascal deliberately ignored the way the lord's shirt had slipped off his shoulder, exposing the pale, delicate skin there...or tried to, at any rate.
"Those responsible were indeed a young man from Ordon, his name unknown, and a Sheikah. And not just any Sheikah, mind."
"Yes?"
"It is none other than Sheik, former bodyguard to Princess Zelda."
The young lord perked up immediately at that, leaning forward. "That is...unexpected. And he is a hunter?"
"Indeed. The only one in Hyrule at the moment, at that."
"So he has no friends in the city and is mostly defenceless? Excellent, why don't you—"
"No."
The almost-pout turned into a tight-lipped frown, the lord's eyes flashing dangerously in the way Ascal had always found thrilling. Many things could rile or anger the young lord, but nothing achieved it like being told the N-word. "Excuse me?" he asked quietly.
"He may not have many allies, but my sources tell me he is still nursing close bonds with the princess and the boy from Ordon," Ascal said. "If we make a move now and kill him or make him disappear, the princess will move heaven and earth to find out who was responsible. Make no mistake, my lord, I am good...but I'm not so good as to avoid detection by the entire city guard. And when they find me, they will inevitably find you." He reached out and placed a hand on top of the lord's. "And I refuse to let that happen."
"So...what do we do, then?" the lord said, not reacting particularly to the gesture...but he didn't move his hand from underneath Ascal's either. "Nothing?"
"Of course not," Ascal said with a snort. "For now, we bide our time and watch. Sooner or later, he will have to leave the city for a hunt, and that is when I make my move. It is much easier to make someone disappear on the road than in the city, believe me."
"I do believe you," the lord said. "You're the assassin, after all." He hesitated for a moment, and looked into Ascal's eyes. "Is that all you woke me for? To tell me that there is nothing that can be done?"
Those were the words Ascal had been waiting for, and he grinned as he climbed onto the bed and trapped the young lord underneath him. "I can think of another reason to wake you," he said, chuckling.
The Temple was quite busy, even for this time of night. It was just after midnight, and business was apparently booming. The noise level was nearly unbearable from the outside, and it only got worse when Sheik and Link crossed the threshold after being given an extremely sidelong glance by one of the bouncers. Had it been anyone else, he'd bar their entrance based on the smell.
Once inside, Sheik understood the reason for the noise immediately. One of the gangs had decided to pay a visit, as they sometimes did. He recognised their colours—The Blue Vultures—and relaxed. They were one of the more vicious gangs in Castle Town, but they usually kept their violent antics confined to their rivalries with the Butcher Boys and Red Falcons. Innocents were rarely caught in the crossfire, and never on purpose. That meant Sheik wouldn't have to start any fights tonight, which was good—he was far too exhausted to do so.
"You're back."
They turned and found Lor loitering on a stool in the entrance hall, waiting for them, apparently. He kept his face downcast, eyes focused on a book. He was in his work uniform—the abominable skirt-like piece of fabric that provided no protection or decency whatsoever. It was the same uniform everyone in the Temple had to wear, but Lor's was cut just like the girls'...which, he supposed was fair in some way, but it left nothing whatsoever to the imagination.
"How'd it go?"
His nose wrinkled, and he peeked up at them to take in their appearances. He must have noticed the smell.
"The hunt itself went well," Sheik said, exchanging a glance with Link. "Though we are in sore need of a bath."
"Excellent!" Lor exclaimed, jumping off the stool and grabbing their forearms, pulling them along. He did an admirable job of hiding it from everyone else, but Sheik spotted the slight limp in his step right away, and frowned. "You can hire me as your bath attendant for the night. I'll cleanse you, and massage you, and—"
"No thanks," Sheik said after Link began looking uncomfortable at the idea. "I know where the baths are, we can—"
"Please?"
The tone, which was so unlike Lor's usually flippant and cheerful one, made them both pause. It was quiet, begging, pleading. He still kept his head down, his hair hiding most of his face from view. Slowly, Sheik placed a finger under Lor's chin and moved it up. His heart thumped angrily in his chest when he saw the darkening bruise that was blossoming just beneath the other boy's eye. This close, he could also see the small speck of dried blood in the corner of one nostril, and the slight cut in his lip. Sheik felt his teeth grinding against each other, and in the corner of his eye he could see Link stiffen when he too noticed what was wrong. Lor's limp was easily explained now.
"Who did this to you?" Sheik asked in a low voice, trying to keep his anger under control.
"Sheik, I—"
"Who?"
It was only a glance from Lor, but Sheik immediately identified the culprit. A big, fat Vulture, with a pair of girls sitting on either side of him, drinking heavily. A higher-ranking one, judging by the way a bunch of weaker-looking Vultures sat with him, laughing and congratulating the fat one on...Goddesses knew what. Beating up defenceless pleasure workers, apparently. Rosa's girls didn't at all look happy with their situation either, but at least they weren't getting slapped around.
"Excuse me for a moment," Sheik said. "It seems I have some manners to teach." He made to approach the Vultures' table, but Lor's hand on his arm stopped him.
"Please don't," Lor said quietly. "Rosa's already told him off. He won't be any more trouble."
Sheik shot him an incredulous glance. "You can't be serious," he hissed. "I'm not letting him get away with this!"
"I don't want any more trouble, Sheik. It's bad enough as it is, I just don't want...I can't...please!"
There were few things that could stop Sheik in his tracks twice in one night, but Lor's wavering voice as he begged him to let the whole affair go was one of them. He looked into the black-haired boy's shiny eyes, and saw fear. Utter fear. It had no business in Lor's eyes. Slowly, he nodded, trying to force his heart to beat slower, to turn his anger into something productive instead.
"Fine," he muttered. "Tell Rosa you're hired for the rest of the night. And tomorrow. And the day after."
A cursory glance at Link told him that the Ordonian wholeheartedly approved, after he himself had cast a withering glare in the Vultures' direction. They didn't know it yet, but the Vultures had made themselves a pair of dangerous enemies that night.
"And you're sleeping in my room for that duration," Sheik continued, fighting the urge to draw his pistol (which had long-since dried) and blow the fat Vulture's brains out. "No buts."
"I...okay," Lor said hesitantly. "But what if a customer—"
"We're your customers for the next three days," Link said, his face hardened and so unlike the miserable, confused young man he'd been the day before.
"He's right," Sheik intoned. "Now, I believe we were promised a bath?"
The next morning, the Vulture was stumbling home in a drunken stupor. The sun had barely begun to rise, but his head was still swimming. His body was delightfully sore and stiff from his activities that night, both carnal and...well, corrective. Where that slut had come from, he'd no idea, but he wasn't going to sit there and let some little poof walk around unpunished. Disgusting, was what it was...but he'd given the little shit what he'd wanted, as well as a little lesson. He would have done so again, but then that fucking nomad and his friend had come in and hired him...oh, the fun it could have been...
He grinned at the hazy memory of it. The little freak had been a good lay, though...
The Vulture turned a corner and headed through an alley, a shortcut to their hideout and, conveniently, out of the guard patrols' way. He should bring the boy here sometime, for another lesson in how to properly please a—
Something bit into his ankle, and he cried out as he stumbled to the ground. He tried to get back up, but his foot wouldn't take his weight. He glanced down, and realised to his horror that something had sliced clean through the tendon. He opened his mouth to shout for help, but a knee slammed into his jaw, cutting his cry short. A vicious jab was then delivered to his throat, and his voice became little more than a croak, not even loud enough to echo in the alley. He tried to lash out at the blur that was attacking him, but every punch was met with something slicing into the tender skin between his knuckles or his into his palms.
"Fucking—"he croaked, but was cut off when the same knee was rammed upwards into his nose, breaking it with a loud crack, warm blood filling his mouth and nostrils.
"You like this?" his attacker asked calmly—male, young. "You like being rendered helpless? Oh, my apologies, I'm not quite finished."
A boot stamped down on the Vulture's hand, breaking the fragile bones in his palm and crushing his fingers. It disappeared, only for its partner to repeat the process with his other hand. The first boot then returned, kicking him hard where his legs connected with the rest of his body. He squeaked, curling up on the ground.
"The boy you hurt yesterday," his attacker said, words barely audible over the blood rushing in the Vulture's ears. "He is a dear friend of mine. I have very few of those, so I think you can understand why I am so upset." The tip of his boot hit the Vulture's solar plexus, causing his entire body to spasm. "And the things you did to him...I would gladly visit them upon you as well, if only the very thought didn't disgust me to the very core of my being. So no, I am giving you the easy way out. No need to thank me, of course."
The Vulture tried to move, to sit up, do anything to fight back, but the bastard had immobilised him. His vision span, both from the beating he'd just received and the alcohol from the night before...but he definitely heard the whisper of a blade sliding against leather. He made a great effort to focus, breaths coming out in short gasps...and the last thing he saw was a pair of red eyes staring into his, before the Sheikah's knife opened his throat from ear to ear.
Sheik watched the man die, wishing dearly that he'd had the time to hurt the man even more for what he did to Lor, but he was already pushing his luck by doing this in broad daylight. He cleaned his dagger and sheathed it, before retrieving a crimson-coloured handkerchief from his pocket and dropping it by the Vulture's body. This way, it would look like the murder had been carried out by the Vultures' rivals, the Red Falcons.
It wouldn't be the first time Sheik had started a gang war, but at least this time he was doing it for a good reason. Or so he told himself. After this, Lor wouldn't have to be afraid of the man coming to the Temple again—and that was all that mattered.
To be continued…
Don't screw with Sheik's friends. He will screw you up just as badly, if not worse.
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