Chapter 11

Link was in a constant state of fevered sleep for the next three days. When he slept he thought he was awake, and when he was awake he thought he slept. Days and night merged, and he couldn't tell dawn from dusk, or his head from his toes. The fever of the mountains had him, and even for one as strong as himself he was struggling to fight it.

His dreams and hallucinations were plagued with visions of monsters and devils which taunted and terrorized him to the point of screaming.

Yet whenever he thought he wouldn't be able to bare a moment longer, there were hands to comfort him, and in his minds eye, the image of Princess Zelda smiled down upon him.

'Be strong, and the goddesses will guide you out of this hateful sleep…'

Her shining visage would softly kiss his forehead, push back the darkness and lead him to quiet rest.

And thus it went on, only barely aware of the true world about him, until the fourth evening, when he finally opened his eyes.

He knew where he was exactly this time, as he stared at the ceiling above his bunk. There were skins of rabbits, wolf furs and goat hides hung out for drying. The hearth was glowing away merrily as before, a few basic pots scattered before its glowing flame, the window pane still shuddered against the arctic winds, but the door was locked. The hut empty save for Link. His thoughts drifted back to the man he'd seen. Or rather, the woman. So he had been so convinced that his host's presence was male, he was still bemused to have found a female residing within the mountains. He didn't have long to ponder the question of gender however, as the latch on the door was suddenly lifted from the outside.

The tall figure slipped into the little house, dressed as before, head to foot in thick furs that masked the shape his host completely. He watched from the corners of his eyes as the hermit shook the snow from their body in the same animalistic manner, before shedding the great fur coat, pushing its weight from their back, and flexing their shoulders. Even without the coat, from the back Link may have been tempted to still register the figure as male through tired eyes. There was certainly enough height. The hermit had to stoop low to enter through the door, and Link guessed that he might only just be a few inches taller himself were they to stand side by side (and Link had always been very proud of his height). But now that he was able to study this hermit more closely, he could see that the shoulders where too narrow to be male, and the hands that went to hang up the furs, although large, were somehow more pointed and elegant than a man's ought to be. Letting his eyes run down the length of his host's body, he couldn't deny the ultimately feminine curve of hip and thigh, dressed as it was, however in male leather breeches.

Link waited for this woman to turn around in order to see and greet him. She didn't. As if completely unaware of his consciousnesses or even his existence, she strode directly over to the fire, and began to feed it with logs from a pile that was stacked by the hearthside. Link watched quietly as she continued to ignore his presence, and warmed her hands by the fire, before picking up a kettle that had lain on the floor and set it above the flame. Link rolled his eyes and sighed silently, gazing at the ceiling once more. Perhaps she wasn't very alert and thought he was still asleep…maybe she was deaf…

A knee was pushed roughly into his side. Link was startled out of his idle thoughts to find the girl in question stood looming over him, an offered cup hovering before his nose. She stared at him, her face perfectly impassive as she held the cup out to him. Link blinked at her, and waited a moment for her to speak. She didn't move. The cup still hovered patiently before his nose. Awkwardly he pulled himself to sit upright, and took the cup from her hands. He glanced at the water inside before guzzling it thirstily. The girl still just stood there staring at him at he drank. Nose buried in the cup, Link flicked his blue eyes over to her again. Her eyes didn't flicker. She just continued to watch him intently, lips pressed together, her brows on the verge of a frown as Link stared back.

Their eyes locked, he returned the cup. She took it, and turned smartly on her heal back to the fire. Link's eyes still followed her as she filled up the cup once more from a pitcher that lay nearby and returned it to him. He took the cup a second time and drank again, keeping his eyes on hers for as long as possible. Her eyes were steely green and deeply intense as they stared into his face. It was difficult for him to hold her gaze; it was so strong it made his insides squirm. He drew back from his cup and carefully handed it back to her, wetting his lips.

"Thank you." He said as she took the cup back.

The girl looked startled for a moment, her eyebrow perked in surprise briefly before she frowned at him. She returned to the stove.

Leaning back against the wall his bunk was set into, Link continued to watch the girl as she busied herself with the rest of the pots and pans, removing the kettle and placing a small cooking pot in its place. As he studied her face in the glow of the firelight, there was something about it that felt familiar. Like a memory from a dream.

"Are you the only one that lives here?" he asked.

She ignored him, and poured something hot into a cup from the kettle, and gave it a sniff before sipping it.

"Was it you that saved me from the Wolfos?"

She looked into the cup, before snatching a handful of dried leaves that were hanging above her head and crushed them into the steaming liquid, and tested it again.

"My name is Link."

She strode over to where he lay in the bed and handed him the drink, giving him a small nod of acknowledgement as he accepted it. He wrapped his hands about the warm pottery, but continued his in vein of questioning.

"Where are we exactly?"

The girl appeared to have resumed ignoring his presence. She sat down before the hearth and began to unlace the leather braces that encased her forearms. Apparently waiting for the pot to boil she busied herself in re-braiding her hair; the fierce winds had pulled locks astray bound tightly as it was in a long plait that ran the length of her spine. It was a deep brown, and the firelight flecked it with bronze.

"…are you deaf?"

The question was innocent enough in its approach. Link was concerned with the lack of reaction from the young woman. But the look she gave him just then made him feel as if he had just insulted her by comparing her mother to a pile of Goron excrement. She shook her head very slowly at him.

"Oh…" Link flushed. "…My apologies."

She went back to the cooking pot. Link stirred uncomfortably. He cleared his throat to break the silence that was building and threatening to become awkward. He was about to ask 'you're not dumb are you?' but thought better of it least she give him another one of those looks. Ever persistent, he tried another approach instead.

"What's your name?"

She answered by giving him a quick glance as she began to unbutton the stiff leather jerkin she wore over a rust coloured shirt. Those fierce eyes studied him for a moment as her nimble hands danced over the fastenings. She turned away again, and slipped the green leather off her shoulders, casting it aside with her gauntlets and leant towards the fire, giving the pot a stir. Frustrated, Link swallowed hard, and pressed his fingers to his forehead, his eyes stinging with physical and emotional fatigue. He pressed his eyes tight and covered his face with his palm as he refused to give in to tears again, breathing heavily, when a hand gripped his arm.

He looked up sharply to find the girl stood by his bedside, her sympathetic hand firmly on his shoulder, and offering a bowl of hot soup that smelt wonderfully of salted meat.

"Rhoben" she said.