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.
Moments
I
It was a busy day. The markets were so crowded one could barely take a step without also crushing someone's toes...or get an elbow in the face. Every now and then, someone cheered for the defeat of Ganondorf, which was quite close to a year ago today. A festival was being planned, apparently.
With the land slowly healing after seven long years of war, shipments of grain and produce were slowly becoming more and more regular, but the delays were still a little too long for comfort and resulted in everyone fighting for every last scrap. It was a pickpocket's paradise.
She'd split off from her fellow thieves no more than five minutes ago, having been assigned the lower left corner of this particular marketplace. This was her territory. Her hunting grounds. The fine goods section was usually avoided by everyone else because of how close the shoppers guarded their money pouches, but she had developed a set of techniques that allowed her to lift just about anything from their pockets. That, and she looked innocent enough for no one to suspect her of having stolen their rupees.
She weaved her way through the crowds, avoiding the jewellers' stalls like the plague. The hired guards there did not care for the concept of 'innocent until proven guilty' and regularly harassed those they believed to be suspicious. She'd learned that lesson the hard way a few months earlier, and had vowed to stay away. Instead, she went for stalls where exotic fabrics were traded for. It was difficult to steal a roll of silk without tripping over oneself or it, so hiring guards was unnecessary.
Almost faster than the eyes could see, her hand darted out and into a poorly tied-together pouch to her right, emerging with a pair of (score!) blue rupees clutched tightly in her palm. The man who'd just been robbed did not even notice; his eyes were fixed intently on an expensive-looking carpet from the Ashlands.
Of all the things to be coveting in a time where half the city was still in ruins!
She pocketed the rupees and continued on her way, occasionally reaching out to pinch a rupee or two from an unsuspecting shopper. She never took much—at most only a single rupee or two at a time, hoping they would be of the more valuable kind. If she took too many of the gems, it would undoubtedly be noticed. Take one or two, however, and the victim would more often than not simply think they'd miscounted before heading out.
She reached the end of one row of stalls and put a hand in her pocket, feeling the precious rupees and counting them. Twelve so far, and at least three of them were the blue kind. A good haul already, and only on her first pass! The whole group would eat tonight, it seemed. Proper food, too, not that swill they usually had to purchase from the cheapest stalls in the back alleys.
She was considering her next avenue of attack when she happened to glance towards the centre of the square, where the abomination of a fountain depicting the creation of the world by the Goddesses stood. It had yet to be turned on because of the unusually cold spring, but it was still a bloody eyesore, even to her. Someone was standing on it, seemingly surveying the crowds closely. For a moment, she thought it was a guard, trying to spot thieves and pickpockets like herself...but their outfit did not match that of the city watch, nor those of the hired guards employed by the merchants.
Standard brown boots and grey trousers were practically invisible compared to the dark green tunic. The most eye-catching feature, however, was the blue scarf wrapped around his—for it was a he—neck, the other end reaching the back of his knees. His blonde hair was mostly covered by a green cap. On his back was a fine-looking sword and a shield bearing the royal crest. He was someone important, then.
Not to her, though. As she made to turn back to her plan, the man on the fountain turned towards her...and their eyes met. His eyelids narrowed, and he reached out and pointed at her. The din of the market drowned his voice out, but she could read his lips perfectly.
"Hey! You! Wait!"
She didn't. He was at least a hundred yards away, separated from her by a vast sea of people. She'd have plenty of time to get away. Turning on her heels, she set off in the opposite direction, using her elbows for what they were worth in trying to get people out of her way, which was no easy task with her lack of weight. Breaking out of the crowds, she immediately headed for the safety of their hideout—close to the old inn. It was their shelter for whenever the guards were out in force and trying to find them—so deep into the old, dilapidated parts of the city they didn't dare follow for fear of being ambushed by all the other criminals who inhabited the crumbling buildings.
Her lungs burned as she pushed herself to run as fast as her legs would take her, not even looking back to confirm that the green-clad man was chasing her. She couldn't take the chance—if she was caught, who knew where she'd end up? She'd heard stories from the others—secret torture chambers and jail cells so far underground they'd never see the light of day again. The people in this part of town claimed nothing had changed since Ganondorf was defeated.
Some things had, of course, but she had no idea what they were apart from the lack of people being killed in the streets for imagined slights against the Legion, of course...
Only when she was deep in outlaw territory did she slow and allow herself to look back. The man was nowhere to be seen. She ducked into a small space between two buildings and gave herself a breather, trying to ease the feeling of her lungs exploding. It didn't take long until she heard the rapidly approaching footsteps. The man was fast, she had to give him that. She squeezed herself further into the space, hoping it'd provide enough cover.
The man came into view, pausing at the crossroads, looking around and panting. Confused. She allowed herself a grin, imagining how his train of thoughts must have gone. 'Where did she go? Damn, she's fast...'
His head turned towards her hiding place, and she cursed inwardly. What was he, psychic?!
"Good hiding place," he said, still struggling to draw breath. "A bit obvious, though. Sheik is weeping somewhere, I'm sure."
Sheik? As in Lord Sheik? What the hell was he on about?
She remained quiet, hoping that the man would foolish for talking to thin air and move on, but he stubbornly remained there, seemingly staring straight at her. He wrapped the scarf tighter around his neck and crouched down, keeping it from touching the muddy ground. "Cold for this time of year, huh?" he asked. "I just got back from Lumina. Winters there are hard."
What do I care where you've been, Greencap? she thought. He had the most strikingly blue eyes she'd ever seen on a person, and they seemed nice. Warm and kind. But she'd been faced with false kindness on the streets before, and she refused to fall into the same trap again. The last had nearly been the end of her...
"The silent treatment, huh?" the man asked. "Well, I suppose it's what I deserve for being rude. My manners are a bit crude, to say the least, but I'm working hard on them. My name is Link."
Good, now go away, she thought.
"You've heard of me, I think."
Nope. Posh outfit says you're a nob, though. I hate you already.
"If not my name, then at least my title."
What is it, Lord Fancyscarf-Colourblind the Third? I guess that would technically be your name, though.
It was strange. She'd never heard of a noble who'd referred to themselves by their given names. Nor any that would willingly chase after a street urchin into the dangerous part of town. That was usually the job of their bodyguards—a job they rarely returned from alive since the roving street gangs made short work of anyone they deemed rich enough to rob and murder. Then again, Fancyscarf did have a wicked sword on his back and carried himself with confidence, and even now she had a feeling the gangs were eyeing him with wariness rather than predatory eyes.
"I'm the Hero of Time."
She could vaguely recall a young man at the head of Princess Zelda procession of victory into the city after the defeat of Ganondorf, but she had been at the very back of the crowds, forced to balance on a crate to see anything...and what she had seen wasn't much apart from shapes and colours. Had there been something green?
"I know you're in there," Fancyscarf continued. "I'm a lot more perceptive than I look. I just want to talk to you—that's all."
"You'll have me arrested," she retorted, refusing to move. He was too big to get to her from there. She could stay there for as long as it took.
He looked surprised. "Why would I do that?" he asked.
"Because you saw me pickpocketing, and you're a soldier," she replied. "You'll report me to the guards."
"Actually, I didn't see you take anything," Fancyscarf said, shrugging. "And even if I did, I wouldn't care. I'm no stranger to being broke with nothing but the clothes on my back. And if it's any comfort, the guards don't arrest people your age. At worst, you're stuck in an orphanage."
"Like that is so much better than jail," she growled.
"Last time I checked, it is," Fancyscarf replied. "But I get it—you've been on your own for so long that you wouldn't give up the freedom...even if it meant steady meals and a warm bed at night. I remember the stories..."
She blinked. Stories? What stories? To his credit, Fancyscarf did seem genuine...those who merely put on masks in order to get something from her usually didn't last this long. They usually gave up after a sentence or two, upon realising there was nothing they could get from her, no matter the price. And the things she'd been offered...
"Look, I know it can't be comfortable in there," Fancyscarf said. "Won't you come out and just talk to me? I promise I won't do anything...and to prove it..." He stood back up and walked a considerable distance away. Enough to allow her to escape before he could even get close.
He did have a point about her discomfort. The houses were pressing in tightly. Gritting her teeth, she slowly climbed out of her hiding place, ready to sprint the moment she saw suspicious movement from Fancyscarf...which never came. He simply stood there, smiling kindly at her with his arms hanging at his sides and hands spread to show her he meant no harm.
"So?" she asked. "What do you want?"
"It's a long story," he said. "But the gist is that I would like to extend an offer—"
"No thanks," she said immediately. She'd heard that line a million times from all manners of creeps.
It took him a moment to realise. His eyes grew comically wide, his face reddening like a ripe tomato. "Goddesses, no! Not...not that! What do you think I am?"
A bastard, like everyone else, she thought. A nice-sounding, nice-looking bastard, but a bastard nonetheless. She didn't reply, only continued to stare at him, wondering if perhaps it was best to bolt after all. He still wouldn't be able to catch up with her, especially when she employed her mental map of the surrounding streets.
"No, look," Fancyscarf said, shaking his head. "You know who Sheik is, right?"
"The Earl of Hyrule," she replied. Everyone knew who Lord Sheik was—former bodyguard to the princess made noble and granted the holding of Kakariko Village. A noble Sheikah. He was the talk of the city after the announcement was made. Good for him, she'd thought, even though she was wary of Sheikah in general, like everyone else. "What about him?"
Fancyscarf smiled. "Yeah, the Earl of Hyrule...he's building an organisation, and is looking for people with certain sets of skills. Skills like yours."
"Skills?"
"Pickpocketing."
"You said you didn't see anything!"
"Exactly, I didn't," Fancyscarf said, winking. "Anyway, he could really use someone like you."
"Not interested."
"That's fine," he said, nodding. "Recruitment is completely voluntary. I just wanted to offer you the chance. Good day to you."
He turned and began to walk away. She blinked. That was it? No appeals to her sense of duty to king (queen) and country? No tempting perks or rewards? Nothing? He was a horrible recruiter, in that case. "Hey," she called after him. "What's the organisation do?"
"Can't tell you," Fancyscarf said. "That's only for members to know."
...or maybe he was brilliant?
"Tell me."
"Nope, can't."
"Tell me!"
"Sorry, I really can't," he said, shrugging helplessly. "Classified information." He paused for a moment. "I'll tell you what—show up at Redemption's Circle Orphanage at noon tomorrow. Lord Sheik will be there. Perhaps you can ask him yourself?"
She hesitated. She hated to admit it, but she was very much intrigued, even if it went against her survival instincts. Perhaps this Lord Sheik hadn't yet made the transition to a full nob? It could all be a trap, though, to lure in unsuspecting innocents...but then, he was the princess' right hand, and she would never authorise something...indecent? And if Lord Fancyscarf...er...Link, the Hero of Time, who was apparently revered by the entire kingdom, spoke for him...
"Will you be there?" she asked.
"Of course," Fancyscarf said. "Will you?"
"Maybe," she replied. She supposed she could possibly make an appearance. If she didn't like what she saw, she could simply leave again, right?
"I'll be looking forward to it, then," Fancyscarf said, smiling wider. "As I said, my name is Link. What's yours?"
"Nikal," she replied.
"I'll see you there, then, Nik," he said, and walked away, scarf trailing him lazily in the air.
On her way to the hideout, she went over the conversation again and again in her head, trying to find cracks in Link's manner and appearance. She found none. Still, it would not do to trust so easily. She'd learned that much. She'd go to the orphanage...but she'd bring her friends. Safety in numbers, and all.
Maybe she'd try her hand at pickpocketing Lord Sheik.
Just a fun little side-moment. There will be more of these. Hope you enjoyed it!
