yayyy. Update. I actually had more I wanted in this chapter, but it was getting a bit long so I decided to end it where it is. Hopefully this means the next chapter will be up sooner since I have ideas brewing!

There was a moment where he thought of a great deal of things he wished he'd said. It could have only been a fleeting second or two, but inside his mind, a million thoughts were spinning. Mostly thoughts of the girl back home who thought he would come back.

And then that second passed, and in a last effort to save himself from the blade above him, he braced his attackers wrists, stopping him with the knife no more than an inch above his throat. He wasn't strong enough, he could feel himself losing quickly as the tip dug into his neck, a hot pain bursting from the spot as blood spilled down the side of his throat. The man on top of him leaned forward, pressing more of his weight onto Link, and drawing more blood from the wound. A pained groan of effort pushed its way through Link's mouth, one that turned into a muffled cry of defeat. He was going to die, right here, and he never told Ilia that he loved her.

The pain was gone in the next moment, and he was sure that he was dead, his consciousness hanging on for one last second as the knife plunged into his jugular. But he awaited the darkness, and nothing came. Only a stinging where the enemy had drawn blood.

When he sat up, his body aching, he found the source of his salvation; Johnny atop the other man, his own blade stuck straight through his body. Johnny drew it out, and shoved the silver knife, stained with the man's blood, right back in. The soldier on the ground flinched once, like his nervous system was reacting though the man was already dead.

"Link, you okay?" he asked, breathing heavily, eyes locked on the corpse pinned beneath him.

Link blotted at his neck, there was a lot of blood, but it wasn't overly painful. "Yeah, I'm fine."

"Bastard..." he muttered under his breath, cleaning the stained knife on the other man's clothes.

"Hey, we should get back," Link said, getting to his feet a bit shakily, "if there are more coming, we'll need to let them know."

"Yeah, just a second..." Johnny mumbled, his teeth gritted together. He crawled off of the fallen soldier, pushing himself unsteadily off the ground, though one of his hands clutched at his side. There was blood on his fingers, though Link was unsure who's it was.

"Are you hurt?" Link asked, taking a step towards his friend, fear starting to brew inside him.

He didn't answer immediately, just held onto his side. "I just... ah—" he began to say, his voice breaking as he let go, revealing the tear in his tunic, the spreading patch of glistening crimson.

"Johnny!" Link said with a start, rushing to his side and pulling one of Johnny's arms around his neck. "Is it deep? Can you walk?"

"I can walk, you priss," he grumbled, but the way his jaw clenched, and his eyes squeezed shut, he wasn't sure that Johnny was entirely as confident as he seemed.

"We need to get you to the doctor," Link went on.

"I'm aware," Johnny said. Link knew his sarcasm came on strongest when he was worried. And he knew that as they hobbled back toward the trench, Johnny breathing hard the whole way, that he was very worried for his life. They didn't speak until they reached the doctor's quarters, when Link was all but dragging Johnny.

"Hey, we're here," Link said, trying to jostle him back to full consciousness. But as he did so, he felt Johnny's full body weight collapse against him, and he had to settle him to the ground. There was sweat pasting his hair to his face, but he was trembling like he was cold, the blood seeping further into his clothes. "Hey!" Link said, patting Johnny's cheeks, a breathless panic rising in his chest, "You've gotta wake up, Johnny. Remember what you said? Remember, we've got to keep each other sane, right?" His eyelashes fluttered a bit, the dull green growing dimmer. "Come on, it's not bad. It's not bad," Link continued, trying more than anything just to keep him awake, but he could feel the choked emotion in his words now.

"It... it doesn't hurt," Johnny managed in a quiet voice.

By then Link could hear his comrades voices around them. He could hear the confusion and the bustle as they tried to get help at realizing one of them was injured. "That's right. They're going to fix it right up."

Then Johnny's eyes opened further, though Link could tell by the way his eyebrows pulled together that it wasn't necessarily a good thing. "Your face is bleeding, Link."

He wiped at his cheek with the back of his hand, remembering just then the slice he'd taken. There were tears in his eyes now, one that spilled, the saltwater burning through the wound. "Yeah, couldn't let you have all the fun, could I?"

"Link, move out of the way," someone said then, the doctor behind him.

Someone else tried to ask him what had happened, called for someone to get a bandage for Link's face, but he could hardly pay attention. His answers came without thinking, his attention fixed on one of the only people in this sorry place that had become his friend.

"Will he live?"

"Hmm... it's still hard to say."

"Is it infected?"

"No... thank the Goddesses, no."

There was a pause in which Link let out a sigh of relief. His commander watching over the conversation he and the doctor were having. "It's a noble thing he did," the Commander muttered then, "it would be a shame to lose him."

"Link?" the doctor inquired then.

"Hmm?"

"Are you feeling alright?" he asked.

Link scratched at the stitches in his cheek, before mentally reminding himself not to. It had only been a night since he and Johnny were attacked, but with Johnny's life balancing precariously on the edge of death, he hadn't been able to fall asleep for longer than an hour at a time. His answer should have been no. He was not alright, he was exhausted, he was cold, he was in pain, and he was afraid. But instead, he said, "I'll be okay."

"New men are coming in three days time, we'll send Johnathan back with the sick and injured," the Commander interjected. Link bit his cheek, somehow he'd have to make it through Johnny's recovery alone. "Link, you'll join them as an escort and to retrieve new medical supplies," he added a moment later.

"What? Sir, I can fight. I don't need to go—"

"Son," the Commander said, taking Link by the shoulder and turning him away from listening ears, "almost all the rest of soldiers have taken a three day leave, and you and Johnny have constantly denied your chance. I'm not sure if it's courage, selflessness, or idiocy, but you haven't taken a day away from this place in months. And that long in this place, without a good night's sleep is enough to drive a man mad. I need you at your best when we go to battle. You're no good to me dead. I'm not asking you to go, I'm making you."

"I just... I like knowing that if we succeed or if we fail, I had something to do with it. If I was gone—" he began again, only to be cut off a second time.

"You can't hold all of it on your shoulders. You'll never have peace of mind with the well-being of Hyrule solely up to you. You can't do everything by yourself, Link," he said, more firmly this time.

"I know I can't," Link replied, though he couldn't help but think of the time when he had to do everything by himself. When no one, save a few brave souls, were there to help him. No one constantly there but her. A pang of guilt sizzled through him, her face before him for just a second. He had tried desperately to not think about her, hated the feeling inside him when he couldn't help it. And he hated admitting that he loved her, maybe not like he loved Ilia, but he did. He had grown to love her. He never wanted to dwell on that fact that she'd severed their gateway to one another to keep him safe, perhaps out of her own love, he never wanted to dwell on the fact that for so long he had thought of it as betrayal.

Betraying his trust, his hope that they'd meet again.

"Go home, Link. If anyone has deserved it, you have," the Commander said then, breaking him from his reverie, and for that he was thankful, "and write that girl of yours, telling her you're coming."

Home seemed so different from the last time he'd seen it. The snow was new, he'd never seen Hyrule Castle under a thin layer of snow. He was nervous for whatever reason, maybe seeing Ilia for the first time in months is what sparked it. But even if he was nervous, he was beyond excited. She was meeting him in town, was probably already waiting in the square along with the families and sweethearts of every other soldier with him. Johnny rode by his side, face sullen as he cradled his side. It wasn't nearly healed enough for him to make the return journey though, no, Johnny wouldn't be fighting again for weeks.

But he'd survived, and that's all Link could ask for.

"At least it's stopped bleeding," Johnny said then.

"What?" Link asked.

"I don't want Celeste to be worried when she sees me," he replied, "she'll be worried enough as it is."

"I'm excited to meet her," Link commented, mostly to himself.

"You told Ilia, right?"

Link nodded, "She should already be there."

"Well then, I'm excited to meet her as well," Johnny said, mustering a grin though Link knew after such a long ride on horseback, he must have been not only exhausted, but in excruciating pain. That's Johnny, Link thought to himself, keeping me sane even after he's almost died.

There was a commotion as they rode under the arch and entered town. Shrilling cries of happiness, tears, soldiers abandoning their horses on the side of the rode as their loved ones surrounded them. Link's hands were slippery on the reins, his nerves making his stomach hurt.

The whole of the square was full with clamoring children and wives and mothers and fathers, so he couldn't see her right away, and panic struck him, panic that she hadn't come. He heard Johnny's name being called, desperately from a woman with curling dark hair down to her waist as she squirmed through the crowd. "Johnny!" she nearly screamed again as her face came into view.

Link had never seen Johnny move so quickly as he climbed off his horse, elbowing his way through the bustle of people toward her. "Celeste!" he called back.

And then they found each other, colliding into a kiss the second they were within reach. He'd never seen so much passion, it made him want to look away if only to give them some privacy amongst the throng of people. He climbed off his horse and looked to see if any of the faces guarded by scarves and hats were familiar. The anticipation was almost too much to bear.

No one caught his eye. He found Johnny and Celeste again throughout the mass, still locked together at the mouth, but not her.

"Link?"

He whirled around, eyes falling to the color of the green water of summertime. Her blonde hair was longer than when he'd seen her last, spilling out from the hood she was wearing, and over her scarf. He was certain that her coat was new because he'd never seen it before, but despite all the change, she was the same.

She was Ilia.

Link pulled her into his arms, holding her as close as possible. Her body was trembling, and judging by the quiet sounds of her swallowing and sniffling, he knew she was crying. The ground became blurry as tears filled his eyes. She was here, she had come for him after all this time apart.

She pulled back only slightly then, her gloved hands finding his cheeks so she could look him in the eye. She smiled, a real smile that could have turned into a laugh were it not for the tear that trickled down her cheek the next second. "You have a beard," she said, her voice thick.

He laughed in spite of the tears. "That's all you have to say? After all this time?"

She shook her head, joining him in laughter as she wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand, "I guess after all this time I expected nothing would have changed. But everything changes eventually, doesn't it?"

Link's face sobered at that. He wished it weren't true, but it was. He gathered her into him again, smelling her hair, and the clothes that smelled of home, picking her up from her feet as she wrapped her legs around him, not minding that the bottom of her boots were caked in mud and snow.

"Oi! Link!" The pair turned to find Johnny and Celeste walking towards them, grins plastered on their faces. Ilia unhooked her ankles and touched back down to the ground at their approach, still clinging to Link's arm, because even though she knew it was silly, there was a small part in the back of her mind that was afraid he would be lost if she let go.

She knew from Link's letters who this stranger was immediately, and extended her dainty hand, "You must be Johnny, I've heard so much—"

But Johnny wasn't one for small talk and pleasantries. He took Ilia's hand and pulled her into him, hugging her tightly. "Come 'ere girl," he said.

Ilia was laughing, her cheeks rosy and Link could see she was slightly flustered in the big city with so many people and so much going on. Ilia wasn't shy by any means, but the way she clung to him made him think she was overwhelmed, however slightly. "I assume you already know this is Ilia," Link laughed.

"Well, I was hopin' so," Johnny said, "This is my girl, Celeste. Celeste, this is Link, my best mate."

"Pleasure," the woman said, her lips curving into a smile. Ilia felt very small in comparison to her, the girl with the perfect eyebrows and lipstick and ringlets in her hair, but not as much when Link leaned over and kissed her temple as if sensing her worry.

"Hey, we should head over to Telma's before it gets too full," Johnny piped in then.

"Good idea," Link said, slipping his hand into Ilia's, and slinging her bag over his shoulder before quietly murmuring, "let's go."

Once they were out of the main square, the streets were quieter. Fewer soldiers and families reuniting and more merchants going about their usual day in the cold. Most of them had already closed up shop as evening approached, and soon Telma's Bar would be flooded with citizens and soldiers alike. There was already a small bustle inside her doors when they arrived, warm light enveloping them immediately. Link took both of their bags and told Ilia he would take them upstairs to their room. She'd somehow managed to avoid the topic of sleeping arrangements when she'd told her father that she'd be in town to see Link, for which she was grateful. That was the only time Ilia left Link's side that night, but she was content to run towards the woman behind the counter and throw her arms around her.

When he came back downstairs, Ilia and Telma were still hugging and laughing. He couldn't hear what they were saying, but there were tears glistening in both their eyes, a long awaited reunion between the girl who remembered nothing, and the woman who had kept her safe. Link hadn't thought of it before, but she probably suited the mother role Ilia lacked in her life. There was something in Telma's eyes, like the pride a parent feels when their child has come so far, the sadness of seeing their innocence being left behind.

"And here he is," Telma said, turning from Ilia as Link neared them both, a smirk on her face as usual, "the boy that's caused you all this trouble you speak of."

"The very one," Ilia agreed grinning.

Without another word, Telma poured them both a mug of ale, and then after Link had introduced both Johnny and Celeste, she poured two more. "I hope you don't have many more friends, Link. I'm going to go broke," Telma teased.

"These are the only ones I care enough about," Link said, and thanked her for the drinks. Later that night before he went to bed, he would leave money on the counter, but she wouldn't know who it was from. If she did, she wouldn't let him leave it.

The two couples found a small table in a corner, sitting at it as Johnny rambled off the tale of his attack. Link was paying more attention to Ilia who hadn't touched her drink. Link didn't think she would, he didn't think he'd ever seen Ilia drink. He hadn't either before he started coming to Telma's regularly. Before that, the only times he had anything with alcohol were holidays or birthdays, and only within the last couple of years.

"You gonna drink that, sweetheart?" Johnny asked her, finding the source of Link's attention.

She glanced down at the dark brown liquid, weighing her options, trying to decide. But then she decided to be brave. Her father would sometimes drink the bittersweet smelling drink, and though she didn't particularly like how it smelled or how it tasted the one time she'd tried it, she decided to do what none of them expected of her.

She lifted the mug in her hands, and touched it to her lips, taking one swallow, then another, gulping it back until it was half-empty.

It burned in the back of her throat, but she quickly swallowed away the feeling, taking in dropped jaws and wide eyes. "What?" she said.

Johnny was the first to break the silence, bursting into laughter, "Link, I love this girl!"

Link almost said, "Me too." But held his tongue. He didn't want the first time he said it to be like that. Celeste quickly interjected, putting any awkward silence to rest, "What about me?"

Johnny turned to the brunette girl beside him and cupped her face in his hands. "I think everyone knows I only want one girl."

"Oh," she purred, "good answer."

Not a second later, they were attached at the lips again. Link just smiled and looked down at the table, scratching the back of his neck. The display put an odd feeling in Ilia's stomach... or maybe it was the buzz from the alcohol. But altogether, looking at them, made her want to touch her lips to the boy next to her. She shook her head and took another drink, cheeks pink just thinking about it. Sure, she had kissed Link before, but never in a public place like this, never like that.

"Do you want to go?" Link asked, covering her hand that was resting in her lap with his own.

"Go?" she inquired, setting the glass back down.

"I'm tired," he said with half a grin, his eyes drooping with fatigue, "we could go upstairs, where it's quiet."

"Alright," she said, heart racing at the thought of being alone with him. She would have to try harder than usual to remain proper with him under the effects of the ale.

"I'm just going to go say goodnight to Telma," he told her, standing up and squeezing Johnny's shoulder once as if to let him know that he was leaving. Johnny only hummed in response against Celeste's mouth.

They pushed their way through the boisterous crowd up to the bar where Telma was busily dishing out food and drinks, collecting money, and tabs, and entertaining those around her all at once it seemed. Link thought that she must be best at what she does. Ilia held tight to him, not wanting to get separated, or worse, trampled under the noisy men. She tried not to look at them for too long, the way their glassy eyes shifted over her made her feel sick to her stomach, and had she not been so close to Link, she would have been terrified.

That's when she saw her, a girl maybe her age, long dark hair, pure blue eyes, pinned up against a wall near them. A man was suckling at her neck, though she didn't look like she welcomed it.

She looked scared.

Her hands were pushing at his shoulders, trying to get him away, but he was so tall, so big, she seemed like a child fighting against a grown man. She was just a child fighting against a grown man. "Link," Ilia said, loud over top of all the laughter and shouting. She pointed towards the girl and the man, who was now trying to work his way to her lips.

Link's face froze, like he'd seen a ghost, or something worse... like Ganon himself had walked into the bar. "I know that girl," he said.

Before Ilia could respond, he was pulling them towards the girl with the blue eyes, fast, like he was ready to lurch at the man and wring his neck. When they'd pulled away from the throng he gently pushed Ilia aside, "Stay here," he said before proceeding to pull on the man's shoulder. "Hey, leave that girl alone."

The man was a bit perturbed to say the least, sneering at Link before returning to the girl pinned against the wall that was trying to cover her mouth.

Ilia could see Link's shoulders rise and fall quickly, taking a deep breath before he grasped the other man's forearm. He spun around just the same, but this time Link didn't give him the time to talk, or explain, or fight back. He punched him square in the face, right over the cheekbone. The girl behind them screamed, and Ilia jumped, not quite believing what she was seeing.

He stumbled back only slightly as Link shook out his hand, his knuckle already throbbing as the attention of nearly every person in the bar that wasn't passed out on the floor or snogging a woman, flashed to them in less than a second, their voices fizzling into quiet murmurs as the man cupping his cheek found his nerve. He lunged forward, catching Link in the lip.

That was all it took for the army men, the ones that knew and respected Link, and not to mention Telma, to respond, yelling and shouting curses as they seized his burly arms in seconds, wrestling the brute towards the exit as Telma warned him not to come back. Once she'd seen that he was sealed on the other side of the door, out in the cold of winter, she pulled an ice pack from the freezer box and took it towards Link who was leaning against a wall, dabbing at his bloody lip with his sleeve. All of this happened, but Ilia and that girl with the blue eyes were still standing, unmoving against the wall, startled into stillness. Everything was happening so fast, yet for Ilia she felt like every time she tried to move, she couldn't, time was passing but she wasn't in it.

Link took the ice and pressed it to his mouth. Telma continued on and slipped her arm around the other girl's shoulders, leading her somewhere safe. But Ilia was left against the wall, her heart hammering erratically.

"Ilia."

She looked up then to find blue eyes, ones she was very familiar with. He slipped a hand into hers, the other holding the ice pack against his lip. She was aware that there was a great deal of muttering and shuffling as he passed through the crowd with her in tow, that many—if not all—eyes were on them. But everything seemed quiet, there was just him and her, with no curious gazes on their backs as they climbed the stairs to the inn, and closed the door behind them as they found their room.

And then the quiet seemed suffocating. It was just him and her, in one small room with one bed. She supposed that even had their been two beds for them, she would have ended up climbing into his, but the idea that there wasn't a second, scared her to pieces. "I can give you a moment alone to get ready for bed," he said then, bursting the barrier of silence with just a gentle voice. She nodded gratefully, finding her bag on the foot of the bed as the door clicked shut again.

He returned a few minutes later after she'd changed into a nightgown, and sat beneath the covers waiting for his return. He had a cloth in his hands, and he had changed down into his night clothes somewhere else. His eyes met hers, half-lidded with a ghost of a smile teasing his lips, like he'd just discovered something very pleasing after a long day. She hoped that she was his 'something pleasing'.

"I'll just be a few minutes," he said, motioning towards the wash basin against the wall with something silver in his hand. "I had to borrow Johnny's," he explained as he filled the bowl with water.

It made sense then, the squared off blade he was holding, as he lifted the edge to his cheek, shaving off the months away, shaving off the passing of time in the snow.

Link found it odd to find the part of himself he recognized more thoroughly hidden beneath the beard he'd become accustomed to. His facial hair had never been long or overgrown, but it had covered the youth in his face, hidden well the fear that showed in the part of him that was still a little boy. His cold eyes grew misty in the mirror before him, the contrast between the younger him he remembered, and the circles beneath his eyes that were new.

Ilia watched him intently the whole time, seeing the boy who kissed her on the rooftop coming back to her, though not completely. Her stomach dropped as she watched his face in the mirror, the one that should have been hers, but just wasn't. She wasn't sure if this boy still belonged to her.

He laid down after he was finished washing up, and her palm immediately came to rest on his cheek. She smiled at the smooth touch, "You look like you again." It was mostly the truth.

There was no response as he tucked her under his arm to rest her head against his shoulder, his other hand settled on her waist. His heart was beating slow when she laid her palm over his chest, but she felt it quicken if only slightly, as she pressed her lips to the soft underside of his jaw.

She pulled back suddenly though at a loud thump against the wall outside in the corridor. Both of them seemed to hold their breath, that is, until giggling from outside interrupted the silence. "I think Johnny and Celeste have found their room," Link whispered.

Ilia continued to listen as the door to the room next to them swung open, the pair inside scuffling across the floor towards the bed she imagined. Every now and then it sounded like they'd bump into something, knocking it over, and then she'd laugh. That girl with the dark curls was probably just happy that the boy she loved was alive, Ilia thought. She supposed the walls were thin though, because she could hear every movement, only slightly muffled, from the squeaking of the bed frame, to the desperate gasps that were coming from the other couple's mouths. Ilia felt her cheeks begin to burn as Link pulled her in tighter, nestling his cheek against her hair.

She felt a restlessness begin to brew inside her, one she'd always been too afraid to feel. It made something deep in the pit of her stomach ache, and it was only made worse by the indiscreet moans from the other side of the wall.

As the sounds died down, she wondered if that would ever be them, if they would ever be married, and if he would make love to her on their wedding night.

And she wondered idly if he'd ever made love to a girl before. Perhaps while he was gone on his journey, maybe he had. Maybe it was that girl with the blue eyes.

"Link," she whispered then, causing him to stir.

"What?"

She swallowed, "How did you know that girl? The one that you helped downstairs?"

He shifted against her, rubbing her arm up and down slowly. "She... the last time I was here, she was drunk... and she kissed me."

Ilia froze, her heart starting to hammer, her head spinning. She couldn't quite believe what she was hearing, but he went on.

"And I... when I pushed her away, she hit her head. I never really—I couldn't forgive myself for hurting her. Telma told me that she comes here a lot, and she gets taken advantage of, just like tonight, a lot of the time. She lets sick men like that touch her, because she feels like she isn't worth anything better. So I didn't want to see it happen again, if I could, I wanted to try and help her feel like she doesn't have to do that to herself. I'm sorry..." he ended gently.

She wasn't entirely sure why he was sorry. Maybe because he had kissed her, and though Ilia felt a tremor in her chest at the thought, it wasn't his fault. He had helped that girl just the same, and she should be proud of him for that.

"I think it's good what you did," she said, propping herself up to look at him, look into his tired eyes, at the thin red line over his cheekbone that was still healing. They'd been lucky since returning to Hyrule to have access to spring water or red potion that helped the healing process along, luxuries they didn't have on the battle front. He'd only had the stitches in for three days before he could take them out, and those three days were spent in the trenches. "You look so tired," she added, running fingers through his hair.

He covered her hand with his own, "I've been tired for months. I don't know what it feels like to sleep well anymore."

A lump formed in her throat as she leaned down and kissed his forehead. "You can now," she murmured against his skin.

"You don't know how much I miss you while I'm gone," he said, his voice almost pained.

"No, I do," she whispered, because she missed him just as much. She touched her lips to his then, holding his face fast against hers as he secured her to him, wrapping his arms around her lower back. She hitched a leg up around his waist, her nightgown not concealing her legs anymore as his fingers found her hips, skin against skin. They climbed higher up the small of her back, but then stopped abruptly when she gasped.

She hadn't ever let him touch her like that, even though it was just her back, it was not far from her bra strap, and suddenly her pounding heart and her brain caught up with her through the haze of alcohol.

"Not now," he inferred after a moment of silence, pulling her nightgown back down to cover her body again.

"Not now," she agreed almost silently, caressing her lips over his cheek.

She laid back on her side, and he turned onto his to look at her. He rested his head on his arm, touching her hair gently, his other hand holding hers between them. She touched his lip, eyes lazily scanning his face. "Ilia," he whispered.

Green eyes met his, curiously waiting.

"I think I love you," he said quietly.

She paused a moment, and kissed his knuckle once. "I know I love you," she said.