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 10

"Here."

Lor looked down at the red gem Sheik was trying to hand him, frowning. "What's this?"

"It's a rupee," Sheik explained patiently. "A precious gem that is only second to gold in its use as currency in trade in Hyrule, and—"

"I know what a rupee is," Lor said, rolling his eyes and wondering if the time had come to finally let Sheik know that he wasn't half as funny as he thought he was. "What are you giving it to me for?" He continued dressing, giving his skirt a distasteful glance. He would definitely have to speak with Madame Rosa about its length again, even though he suspected the conversation would end the exact same way it had last time.

"I'm not giving it to you," Sheik said, still holding out the gem. "I'm giving it to you to give to Madame Rosa, so that—"

"Sheik, it's been a week." Now it was Lor's turn to adopt the patient tone, even though he was slightly annoyed. He appreciated what Sheik was trying to do, he really did. It was sweet, in a very fucked up way that could only happen in places like this, but it had gone on for long enough. "I have to get back to work."

"Your eye—"

"Will heal in time," Lor interrupted, briefly touching the tender, blue-coloured skin beneath his eye. It still hurt a bit, but not nearly as badly as it had the day after the bruise had been made. "Some even find it attractive. Makes me look dangerous, you know?" He gave the Sheikah a grin, hoping to convey his appreciation of the respite he'd had thanks to Sheik and Link's generosity. "Customers like bad boys."

"The tattoo makes you look dangerous enough," Sheik said, finally letting his hand with the rupee drop along with his gaze, which fastened itself on his boots. It made him look pitiful, sitting on the edge of his bed like that. Like a john who'd just had his desperate marriage proposal turned down.

Lor had to shake his head to banish the mental image of the situation that occurred just about every week at the Temple, though he was glad to say it never happened to him. On the other hand, who would ever...?

"Then I'm twice as dangerous-looking," he said, touching Sheik's shoulder to force the red-eyed boy to look at him. "I appreciate the thought, but I think we both know you're doing this to delay the inevitable."

"The inevitable?" Sheik raised an eyebrow, frowning. It was a very convincing fake confusion he was displaying, but Lor knew him well enough to recognise the signs of his acting. "What are you—"

"Link," Lor said simply, satisfied at the twitch that almost had Sheik jumping off the bed. He loved Sheik, he truly did, but couldn't help but feel frustrated at the way the hunter deliberately went out of his way to make things more difficult sometimes. "I'm not going to ask how far the two of you have gone, but I can definitely tell something's happened between the two of you."

Sheik ducked his head guiltily. "How did you know?" he asked.

The sheer awkwardness with which the two conducted themselves around each other had been the most obvious sign, of course, but then there were the longing gazes, the hesitant yet overtly friendly touches... Sheik was a trained hunter and fighter (and apparently had a skill set that wouldn't be out of place in an assassin's repertoire either), but certain things were just out of his range. Hiding his being smitten with someone was one of these things. Lor couldn't bear breaking it to his friend, however, and simply gave him a smirk.

"I have my ways," he said. "But it's not just that, is it?"

Despite being in the privacy of his room at the Temple, Sheik cast a glance around them, as if to ensure no one else was listening. Lor almost laughed. "No, it's not just that," Sheik admitted, the blush that had been painting his cheeks so far slowly fading.

Lor quenched the urge to grin triumphantly. It was rare to have the usually stoic Sheikah looking so vulnerable, and he'd be damned if he was going to ruin it by being smug. He'd save that for later. "What is it?" he asked instead, already suspecting the reason.

"It's...well, not really your business. Sorry," Sheik muttered, giving him an apologetic look that was quite uncharacteristic.

Lor nodded. Sheik's reply only strengthened his suspicion. "Fair enough, I won't ask. Where is the farmboy, anyway?"

He'd been wondering about that. For the past seven days, Sheik and Link had been inseparable (which had made Lor feel a bit like a third wheel if he was being completely honest, but the two hadn't let him leave their sight either, so what was one to do?), but this morning the Ordonian was nowhere to be seen. Sheik had slept in, only waking at around ten in the morning, by which time the other blonde had already gone.

"Getting himself a new wardrobe," Sheik explained, standing up and walking to the window, throwing it open to let in fresh air. The room was quickly filled with the cacophony of the city outside. "Kind of ruined if it when we crept through the sewers the other night. Can't have him walking around in my clothes all the time."

"Especially since they don't fit him," Lor said, chuckling a little. "When his trousers split yesterday..."

Sheik joined him in laughing at the memory. "It was a rather...strategic spot, wasn't it?" he asked.

"Poor thing, I've never seen someone so red!"

The mirth continued for another few minutes, both of them struggling to let go of the flustered and embarrassed expression the Ordonian's face had taken on after his trousers had given up the struggle just as he'd gotten up to fetch more drinks during their card game the night before. Link had worn underclothes, of course, but it was still a part of his body he'd never willingly put on display...or, at least not for someone who wasn't Sheik. That thought made Lor want to ask Sheik how far they'd gone more than ever, but he fought that urge once more.

"And your wardrobe?" Lor asked instead, remembering the smell the two of them had trekked in that night. Madame Rosa had had their clothes incinerated the day after, insisting they were a health hazard. "You've plenty of clothes here, but none of them seem appropriate for hunting..."

"I gave Link a list of tailors who have my measurements, and an advance to give them. They'll know what to make," Sheik explained, leaning on the windowsill and staring into the street outside.

Probably scouting for Link, Lor assumed, imagining the Sheikah in front of him vibrating with excitement the moment he spotted the Ordonian, like an excited dog spotting his master. The thought nearly made him laugh again.

"Surprised you're not with him," Lor said. "I know how particular you are with your equipment..."

"Mhm," Sheik grunted noncommittally. "Needed some time to think."

"About?"

"How I'm going to explain the necessity of blowing up one of the central sewer cisterns to the princess, for one." Sheik sighed and fished a golf-leafed piece of paper out of his pocket, handing it to Lor. "There's to be a masquerade tomorrow night."

"Sounds like fun," Lor said, examining the elegant handwriting in the invitation. It was signed by Princess Zelda herself, her mark delicately drawn next to her signature. "Hobnobbing with the nobs. And in disguise, at that. Sounds like the sort of party you'd actually enjoy because no one would know who or what you are." Lor narrowed his eyes. "And I'm sure the princess will understand why it was necessary. You were on a hunt, after all."

"My hunts have never damaged a vital part of the city's infrastructure before," Sheik muttered. "Fifty thousand rupees to repair, apparently."

Lor tried not to choke on the amount. That was more money than he'd ever collectively see in his life...or several lives. Hundreds, really. "She's not asking you to pay for the repairs, is she?"

"She didn't say," Sheik replied, leaving it at that. "And as for the masquerade...well, I've been to one before. Didn't like it."

"Well, you've been invited, so you have to go."

"She invited Link as well."

"Oh?"

"Yes. That's why I sent him out for a new wardrobe today in particular. With a set of instructions on what colours and styles he's not to wear, of course. He may be from the country, but that is no excuse to dress sloppily. He will be in the presence of the kingdom's elite, after all."

There was a slight upturn to the Sheikah's nose as he spoke. It was a habit he'd picked up from his time at the castle, Lor assumed. Or his aunt, possibly. Lor had never met the Master Hunter, but she was apparently a very stern woman who'd insisted on Sheik staying at the castle for as long as possible, either to gain favour with the princess or instil certain values in her nephew. Goddesses knew which of these was the reason—even Sheik had confessed he did not truly understand his aunt's motivations for any of her actions that did not directly impact the hunters' ability to operate properly.

"I assume you'll be teaching him the etiquette as well?" Lor asked. "Can't imagine he'd get much practice in Ordon."

"You're right—he is not looking forward to it."

"Who would be?"

"I'll have you know that I'm an excellent teacher," Sheik said, sounding offended. "Why, he'll be perfectly able to navigate his way among the socialites by the time I'm done with him."

Lor shook his head. "I meant, who would want to learn all that in the first place?"

Sheik frowned. "That...is a good question."

In the distance, the clocks of the city struck noon, and the numerous church and bell towers began to chime. Peel after peel of melodious notifications of the hours that had passed echoed across the rooftops and through the streets. Lor sighed and stood up, disappearing behind the changing screen to finish dressing. He emerged seconds later and walked up to Sheik, touching his shoulder.

"My shift just started," he said, gently kissing the Sheikah's cheek. "Thank you for the past week—I really needed the break. Come back after the masquerade if you need help winding down..."

"Hm, and because you want to hear all about the party," Sheik grunted again, smiling slightly. "Let me know if anyone bothers you again."

"Bring me something from the castle, and you've got a deal."

Link only barely managed to keep his footing when he tripped on his way out of the tailor's shop, though he lost his grip on the many parcels he was carrying. He cursed under his breath as the paper-wrapped parcels scattered all over the cobbles outside the shop, one nearly landing in a puddle of filthy water. He ducked his head as he tried to gather the packages, ignoring the chuckles from the shoppers around him who enjoyed his misery. If there was one thing he'd learned since arriving in Castle Town, it was that city folk were a lot of utter bastards sometimes. That, and to never trust a shopkeeper's word on the price of an item, tailor's least of all.

Was it the same in every city in the world? Or was it just the residents of Castle Town who seemed to enjoy the sight of newcomers humiliating themselves? No one even offered to help him pick up his scattered parcels...

"Allow me."

A pair of boot-clad feet appeared in his field of vision, and someone bent down to retrieve the scattered items farthest from Link's reach. The Ordonian stood up, trying not to appear too embarrassed at his predicament (if only to not further fuel the glee of those who'd laughed at him). "Thank you," he said, clearing his throat. "You're the only one who's offered to help."

The man was a rich one. That was obvious from the his expensive-looking clothes (which made Link feel like a vagabond, despite the fact that the clothes he'd borrowed from Sheik were actually of high quality themselves, if rather plain), and his graceful manner of moving. A heavily ornate fencing blade hung from his hip, partially obscured by his long coat, which was black with a dark purple trim. His hair, long and a peculiar slate-like shade of grey, was tied back by a ribbon that matched his coat. His eyes were amber, almost yellow at the irises, sharpening his gaze. He looked to be in his thirties, perhaps somewhere in the middle. Not old, but not quite young either.

He picked up the last of the packages and carefully arranged them in his arms, looking doubtful about giving them back to Link, who was already quite over-burdened. "Despite being a bastion of civilisation," the man said with a frown, "most of the inhabitants of this city have little to no manners. I apologise on their behalf."

"It's all right," Link said, wondering why the man wasn't handing the parcels back instead of merely adjusting his grip on them. "Was my own fault, not looking before stepping..."

The man frowned a little deeper. "Even so, I find it terribly impolite not to offer assistance." He paused. "Your accent...would I be incorrect in assuming you are new to the city?"

Now it was Link's turn to frown. Was it really that obvious that he wasn't from Castle Town? He knew the way he spoke was different to, say, the way Sheik did...but he'd just assumed that was because Sheik had been raised in at the royal court. If people could immediately tell he was just a damn country bumpkin from the way he pronounced certain things, then...then perhaps it was no wonder why the shopkeepers treated him like an idiot.

The man seemed to realise something as his eyes widened slightly. "Now I should apologise," he said, shaking his head. "That was terribly rude of me. I did not mean to imply anything. I just recognised your dialect as a south-eastern one." He looked a bit embarrassed even, tightening his hold on the packages. "Languages are a bit of a hobby of mine, you see, and none of them are dearer to me than our own mother tongue, which is why I have devoted quite a bit of time to learning about its many facets, and I have spent some time in the region close to the Lost Woods and..."

Link couldn't stand the way he'd made the man babble, and quickly nodded and gave him a smile. "You're right, actually. I'm from there. I'm not offended, I promise—just a bit annoyed by the way people assume I'm stupid just because I'm not from around here and tal—speak a little differently."

That seemed to cheer the man a little, and he smiled back. "A justifiable annoyance, to be sure," he said. "It is an unfortunate attitude, especially seeing as the city could not possibly survive without the resources it receives from the same regions they mock. And I would be impressed if even one out of a hundred here knows how to...oh, I don't know, milk a cow."

Link grinned. "Or churn butter."

"Or grow something that isn't a big ego."

Link found himself laughing along with the man at that. He had a good point—how many in Castle Town knew any skills that would be useful outside of the city? Very few, he assumed.

"Ah, but I am still being quite rude," the man said, still smiling. "I have yet to introduce myself. My name is Ascal."

That was surprising. From his appearance and mannerisms, Link had assumed the man in front of him to be a lord of some kind, but the lack of a family or bastard name marked him as a commoner. How was that even possible?

"Er...mine's Link," he replied. "I'd shake your hand, but mine are a bit..." He glanced down at his arms, which were still heavily occupied.

"I cannot really say mine are in a better position," Ascal replied, grinning. "Quite heavy, these. Clothes?"

Link nodded, deciding not to mention what sort of clothes they were. From what he'd understood so far the existence of hunters was not a guarded secret, but certain details might be best to leave out regardless. "Yeah," he said, leaving it at that. "I can take those, if you'll—"

"Nonsense," Ascal said, turning away slightly. "Carrying so many parcels on your own is a recipe for disaster, or at the very least more episodes like this one. Please, allow me to assist you."

"Thank you," Link said, "but you've wasted enough time helping me—"

"Helping people is far from a waste of time, in my opinion," Ascal interrupted, caring little for how rude that was, apparently. "In fact, it is every man's duty to do so when given the opportunity." He turned his piercing gaze on Link, giving him a grin. "Now, where to?"

Link tried to think of a way to protest, but realised that Ascal would probably double down on his argument no matter what he said...and carrying all the packages on his own all the way back to the Temple would be a pain in the neck. "All right," he said hesitantly. "But only to the Shades, all right?"

"The Shades?" Ascal said, raising an eyebrow. "That is where you are staying?"

"Is that a problem?" Link asked. "I'm not exactly rich, you know..."

"Not at all," Ascal quickly recovered, smiling. "Shall we?"

As they began to navigate their way out of the busy shopping district, Link failed to notice the two pairs of eyes that were watching them carefully from the mouth of an alley. He'd failed to notice them all morning, in fact.

Nikal turned her head to look at Eren, biting her lip. "Who is that?" she asked.

"Don't know," Eren replied, shaking his head. "Never seen 'im before. Looks like a nob, but..."

"He's carrying way too many weapons for that," Nikal finished, confirming her analysis with Eren's. The fencing blade was a distraction from the multitude of other, hidden blade handles that had dotted the man's coat and pockets. "Those colours, though...I've seen 'em before somewhere. Probably works for some nob up in the Gardens."

The two of them watched Link and the newcomer carefully before they disappeared from view. Eren looked at Nikal. "Should we tell the boss?" he asked.

"Let's watch first," Nikal said. "Could just be a decent fellow."

The snort from Eren told her just what he thought of that hypothesis, but he nodded anyway. "All right. Let's go."

They parted at the border of the Shades, the imaginary line where the bad part of Castle Town began. Ascal had offered to help Link the entire way, but the Ordonian felt guilty enough having taken up so much of the older man's time already. He almost had to argue with him to agree, and Ascal only relented after Link (very politely) argued that someone wearing expensive clothes like Ascal's would quickly find himself a target for the area's many pickpockets and other thieves.

"Ah, perhaps you are right," Ascal said with an agreeing nod and touching the handle of his fencing blade. "I am quite able to defend myself with this, but I suppose the technique I employ would be...lacking when dealing with the kind of thugs and other filth that breed in places like these. Not that I am implying that you are...would become...er..."

"I know, I know," Link said, smiling. "Thanks for the help, Mister Ascal—"

"Just Ascal, please. I am not a lord; I just serve one."

"Thanks, Ascal."

"My pleasure. Until next time, Link."

"Oh, I, er..."

Thankfully, Ascal wasn't listening to his stuttering and clumsy reply, having already begun to walk away. He did turn and give Link a small wink, but that was it...and then he was gone, turning a corner and heading in the direction of the Gardens, the city's high-class district.

Struggling with his load, Link went on his way to the Temple, hoping that Sheik would be happy with his purchases. The hunting clothes were a given, seeing as they had been made with Sheik's specifications, but Link was mostly worried about the masquerade outfit. He'd had no idea what to go for, and had simply gone along with what the tailor had suggested. Surely someone in that profession would be attentive to the quality of their wares since it'd be on display at the royal court? The masks had been a challenge too, but he'd gone for what he felt was appropriate for the two of them.

He still didn't notice that he was being kept under watch, though this time by more than two pairs of eyes.

To be continued…

Hm...

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