So...Um...Hi...

This chapter took forever even though it's not even "action-y". *pouts*

Exams and stuff. They suck. Well, at least it's over...for now.

Anyways, thank you Joystick Gamer, Roxygirl, RyoKushei, and WeeabooNerd420 for reviewing. I know I'm terrible for not updating in, like...forever *shivers* ughhh

On to the chapter then!

Disclaimer: Not in four million years.

Chapter 21: Training

Soft snickering wakes me. I keep still, slightly opening one eye. My eyelids threaten to close shut, but I fight for consciousness. Trying not to fall back asleep, I look up and through the thick canopy of the trees. Judging by the brightness of the light shining through, I would say it is late morning. Knowing that, there was no way I would fall back asleep now.

Fully awake, I quietly sit up, rubbing my eyes. Looking to the side, I see Samantha bent over something with her back to me. Curious, I stand up and stealthily move behind her. Looking over her shoulder, I see a fairly small item clutched in her hand. Light gleams off its surface, preventing me from seeing the rest of its features. Reaching around her, I pluck it from her hands.

"Hey—"

"What is this?" I murmur curiously. Honestly, I've never seen something like this before. Holding the top of it with my thumb and index finger, I bring it up to my face. I squint, inspecting it carefully. A black surface with a large crack across it. By the looks of it, it's completely harmless.

"Give that back, Link! It's mine!" Samantha shouts, jumping and reaching for the item. I simply pull it out of her reach, but she doesn't give up. She scrambles up and tackles me in hopes of reclaiming her stolen possession. "Ah-ha!" When she tackles me to the ground with her own body, I lose my breath upon impact. I fall, her following suit. She attempts to pin my arms to the ground, but frankly, I'm more experienced in these types of situations. Using my mouth to hold the item, I easily roll on top, sitting up on her abdomen, straddling her. Taking the item from my mouth, I dangle it over her face teasingly. Looking down to see the frown on her lips, I smirk, satisfied with the outcome.

"Now that was too easy, Samantha," I tease as she squirms around, trying to escape. "I'm guessing you've never wrestled before?"

"Nope." Reaching up, her fingers grasp air as I lift the rectangular object higher above her. Giving up, she resorts to punching my thigh. A light blush settles on her cheeks once she realizes the position we are in. "Now get off of me, Link. You're crushing me!"

"Tell me what this thing is and maybe I'll consider it." I point to the black rectangular shape. She looks at me for a while as if considering it, but in the end, she shakes her head.

"Why should I? At this point you're crushing my stomach flat—hey, maybe I can become a stick!" She scoffs, crossing her arms over her chest. "Seriously, get off."

"No." I say, crossing my arms across my chest, imitating her.

"What did you say, fairy boy?" She hisses.

"Fairy boy? Where did that come from?" My eyebrows twist in confusion, as my lips curve into a mischievous grin.

The palm of her right hand makes contact with her forehead and then slides down her face. "I mean wolf boy!"

If it was possible, my face twists deeper into confusion. "And how do you know about that?"

Slightly tilting her head, she asks, "About what?"

"Well, I've never told you about my wolf side," I state.

"Uh..." She trails off, a panicked look slapped on her face. Then she waves a hand at me as if to dismiss the issue. "It's not important how I know!" She laughs nervously. "Now, could you pretty please get off?"

I narrow my eyes at her, trying to read the frightened expression on her face. It's true that I haven't said a word about it to her. So how does she know?

Despite my curiosity, I decide to let it go. At least, for now.

"You're full of mysteries, aren't you?" I say, leaning forward. My hands land beside Samantha's head as I lean forward, towering over her. Strands of my dark hair dangle at the sides, making my face fall into shadows. Her blush deepens as she looks away.

"This isn't fair," she pouts.

"Life isn't fair, Samantha." I smirk as she resumes her struggle. When I lean in closer, she stops moving, her face getting even darker.

"Link," she whispers in a cautious tone, eyes glancing at me.

"Hmm?"

"I wasn't lying when I said I'd never wrestled before." As I'm distracted by her words, she swipes a hand outwards, striking my left arm. Surprised, my eyes widen as my elbow gives in and I begin to fall, but Samantha plants both her hands on my chest and pushes me to her left. Letting out a small grunt of pain, my back makes contact with the ground. Hard. I even have the wind knocked out of me. Fantastic.

I wince in pain, regaining my breath. From the ground, I look up at Samantha, who stands up while dusting herself off. "Ouch," I say, supporting myself with my elbows, despite the left one not feeling very well. She bends down to pick up the small object I had dropped in our wrestling match and places it in her bag. "That's such a dirty trick, Samantha. Where did you learn that from, huh?"

She shrugs, brushing a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "I've seen people do it before."

"Oh, really now? Where did you see that?"

"Places."

Narrowing my eyes, I study her, taking in the new set of clothes she wears. A type of tunic, blue and lined with golden stitchings, except with a feminine touch to it. From the mid-section and all the way to just below her knees, the dark blue cloth splits, creating a sort of curved triangle. The cloth curves around her legs, creating a sort of cape—that is, for her legs. At her waist two thin, leather belts are buckled over the cloth. Above the belt and beneath the split, a shiny substance glistens atop her stomach; I perceive it as a layer of chain mail. She wears long, black leggings that are tucked neatly into a pair of brown riding boots. Her long hair is messily pulled back into a ponytail. Leathery, simple arm guards cover her forearms, no gloves on her hands.

Overall, she looked ready for adventure.

The tunic she wears is very similar to the purple cloth of Zelda's usual dress. Maybe she had borrowed it from the princess herself.

I must have been staring off into space lost in thought, for a hand waved in front of my face, snapping me out of my daze. "Oi, Link, you still there?" She says, tilting her head to the side. "I didn't beat you up too hard, did I?"

"No, I'm still here," I say, standing. She soon follows. Then a sudden thought occurs to me. "Wait, why didn't you wake me for my shift last night?"

Samantha hadn't awoken me for my watch last night, leaving me to sleep until late morning. So that means she had stayed up all night on watch. And that's totally not fair for her. Besides, she needs to rest in order to stay healthy and fit for battle.

She ignores my question. Arranging the horse's gear, Samantha sighs. "We should get going now. Faron Spring isn't too far from here, am I correct?"

"Yes, maybe about half an hour of travel. But I don't think we should go just yet," I say, making my way over to her.

"Why?"

"First of all, you need some rest. Second of all, have you ever fought in battle before?" I ask her.

"Well, no, but—"

"Then we should do some training. In our 'wrestling match', you didn't even put up that much of a fight," I say, putting a hand on top of her head and ruffling it.

She flinches away, a hand shooting up to pat down the messy and tangled strands sitting on top of her head. "Says the boy who lost in the end," she retorts, giving me a glare.

"Samantha, I'm not a 'boy' anymore. I'm an adult now," I state. I smirk as I rummage through one of the horse's saddlebags. "Remember? I turned eighteen the other day."

"So? What does that have to do with this?" She flails her hands in an exasperated gesture—to which I laugh at. "Besides, you're not even mature."

"Oh, I can be mature."

"Uh-huh, yeah, sure you can," she murmurs sarcastically as she places her leather bag in one of the bigger saddlebags. I gently bump my shoulder against hers, smiling childishly. Using the momentum from my small push, she bumps me back. I chuckle softly. Finally my hands land on the items I was looking for. Long, slender, wooden blades edged with delicate lines of green.

These should do, I say to myself. Although most were gone, some weapons weren't sold at the festival so I got to keep a pair of training swords. How convenient.

Holding out one of them to her, I say, "This is the weapon we will use in training for today. If you prefer another, please tell me."

Samantha reluctantly takes the training sword and studies it. "Thanks." That's all she says after a moment of silence. I nod in her direction, and we walk around in search of a small clearing to train in. After finding a decent area not too far away from our campsite, I draw my wooden sword, my fingers gripping the rough handle. Samantha does the same, except in a ungraceful way, not at all like a warrior. The tip of her sword tips downward in a sort of lazy posture. Not confident, not courageous. It's just plain wrong.

Calm down, Link. She's never been in actual battle. At least, that's what she claims.

"Samantha," I say, approaching her. "First rule: don't ever hold your sword like that."

"Like what?"

"Like that." I point with a finger to the way she holds it. Then I lift my own sword to demonstrate the right way of holding a sword. "Look at how I hold it. Up and ready. This position helps the quickness of performing a slice or strike. The one you just demonstrated was just terrible."

Samantha lifts the tip of the sword up as I explain. "You're very straightforward when it comes to battle, aren't you? You don't even sugarcoat it in the slightest." Before I respond, she laughs it off. "So, master Link, what else is wrong with my technique?"

"Now I've been promoted to master?" I joke. She nods, the corners of her mouth twitching upwards. We laugh it off, quickly resuming our small training session. "Bend your knees with feet apart and keep yourself in a sort of battle-ready stance. In battle, it's very important that you keep your guard up at all times; never underestimate your enemy, 'cause trust me, I've learned that the hard way." Having understood my suggestions, she nods her head and attempts to perform some kind of defensive position. Her knees bent, she holds her sword up, left arm out defensively. The only problem I have is the balance she seems to lack, causing her posture to look awkward.

Overall, it's not bad; not great either. At least it's a start.

We spend the next two hours "polishing" her skill in combat. Once, we even considered trying to bring back that flame whip from the memory. Since Samantha had been there when Shadow used it, we thought that maybe it would work for her, too. Then we decided to test that theory.

Let's just say Samantha didn't feel so well afterwards.

"I guess trying to grip a flaming whip isn't so smart, is it?" Samantha jokes, wincing at the pain, tears in her eyes. Sitting on the ground, we sit facing each other as I dab at the palm of her scorched right hand with a damp cloth. Our training equipment was cast to the side, forgotten. "Now I see why she had worn gloves."

I don't speak as I focus on a cleaning the large burn gouged deep in her hand. Dried blood fills the small tears of her cut, creating a very dark and nasty scene upon her small hand. Such a wound has caused imperfections upon her skin. I can't help but feel sick thinking about it.

I don't even want to know what future battles may bring her.

"Link," Samantha begins, flinching again from the pain. "It's just a little scratch. I'm fine. Really, I am."

It's like she's reading my mind and is trying to calm my nerves. Yet I don't answer and keep my eyes focused on the task at hand. Getting no response, she tries again. "Link, look at me," she says quietly, trying to push me out of my silence. When I don't respond, she seems to lose some of her patience. "Link." This time she says my name more sternly. Lost in my own world, I vaguely make out the threatening edge in her voice.

Jerking her hand out of my grip finally calls me back. "Hey!" I shout, grasping for a hold on her wrist. She places her hands behind her back so that I wouldn't be able to reach for them.

"Link, my hand is just fine. I'll live," she insists.

"No, it is not! They'll get infected!" I counter.

"Don't worry! It won't."

"But what if it does? What will you do then? Let yourself suffer worse?"

"I can take care of myself. I have been for years." She says the last part with a hint of sadness. Closing her eyes, she holds her uninjured hand out, palm up. "Now give me the bandages."

"Samantha, just let me help you," I try to convince her.

"Link, stop being so stubborn and give me the damn bandages!" I'm slightly taken aback. Maybe I pushed too much. After all, I have been sort of out of it after the accident. It must be frustrating for her—very frustrating by the aggravated look on her face.

But I just wanted to help.

I reluctantly give her the roll of bandages. She murmurs a thanks, and pulling out her hand from behind her, she starts to unravel the roll of bandages. She uses her mouth to adjust it on her hand once the cloth is wrapped firmly around her hand. Soon bandages cover the whole base of her hand, veiling the scar of the Triforce. Using her teeth and free hand, she ties a knot and tucks it beneath one layer of the bandage.

"There. See? I can take care of myself." She holds it too my face, which remains neutral. I cast my gaze to the side to avoid eye contact.

Maybe she's right. Maybe I do worry too much. But that's not a bad thing, is it?

"So, shall we get up and train again? 'Cause I'd like for you to teach me that move again." She says, attempting to lighten the mood. With a small sigh, she stands up and stretches. She holds her uninjured hand to me. The corners of my mouth twitch upward as I take her hand, getting up from the ground. I don't speak as I reach for the two training swords with dents and shallow lines streaked across its surface. I hand one to her and she immediately assumes defense, ignoring the wound on her hand.

"So, how's this?" Samantha says, holding her position.

"You learn quickly, indeed. How about a sparring match, oh so great apprentice of mine?" I smirk, holding my sword out.

She smirks as well, chuckling. "Ha, don't make me laugh. You're on!" Our swords cross and the sparring match begins.

"You sure didn't go easy on me."

"And I'm not planning on making it easier any time soon."

"Well, fine. But next time I'll be better, and I'm gonna kick your—"

"Whoa there, Samantha, watch your language."

"So? What 'cha gonna do about it?" Samantha pants, falling on her back onto the dirt. She holds a childish look on her face, hands behind her head. She closes her eyes as if to add to the list of things she uses to show defiance. I purse my lips, quirk my eyebrows, and cross my arms over my chest.

"Taking a nap, are you now? I guess there's no choice then." Taking steps toward her, I cast aside my sword and reach down. Having sensed my movements, one eye opens in a narrow slit but it soon goes wide. I bend down and throw her over my shoulder, walking towards the campsite.

"H-hey! Put me down! I'm not some rag doll you can throw around!" She screams as she pounds my back, albeit with one hand. I've secured her legs with my arms so that I wouldn't get kicked in the face.

"This is a perfect exercise. What if someone captures you and carries you just like this? What will you do?" I question her. I immediately feel my hat snatched off my head. I almost drop her upon instinct, feeling the urge to get it back. But I stop myself, an unsatisfied look on my face. "Okay, that doesn't count."

"Shut up and put me down," she whines. "If you don't, I'll just throw up on you. Getting thrown around really isn't the best thing for my stomach, you know."

I chuckle lightly, almost mischievously. "Now I know another one of your weaknesses, Samantha."

I finally set her down. I snatch my hat back, setting it back on my head. She lets out a groan, putting a hand to her temple, massaging it.

"Yeah, uh, let's not ever do that again." We share a laugh, warming us both. Once we settle down, Samantha puts a hand on her stomach. "Now I'm hungry. Can we have dinner or something, please?"

I smile, rolling my eyes playfully. "Sure, why not?"

While we pick up all our dropped items, my pointed ears twitch, having heard a sound in the distance. I immediately stop in my tracks, snapping my head in the direction of the sound.

It's only a rustle in the bushes according to my senses. My mind thinks differently, though.

"Link, what's wrong?" Samantha asks. I turn my head to her and upon seeing her worried face, I relax my tensed muscles.

"Oh, it's nothing. We should get going now. We can eat later."

Sensing my urgency to leave, she doesn't say anything else, only giving me another glance as if to say okay. She leaves, walking to the horse. I jog after her, feeling protective all of a sudden. It may have been months since I've been a wolf, but my senses do not fail me.

We are being watched.

'Can we get her now?'

'No. Master ordered us to wait.'

'But I'm hungry.'

'Then go eat a squirrel or something. This forest has plenty.'

The other of the two pouts and leaves. Grinning, the one left on watch snickers softly.

'It's just a matter of time now...'

I know the beginning was totally...random. But between each trial/memory thing, they need to have some fun...(don't take that the wrong way) and well, relax.

At the beginning, if you can't tell, that was the iPod...yeah. Anyone want to guess what she was doing with it?

(12/22/14) Don't worry, I'll try to get the next one up quicker. /No Promises/

Oh, and please, if I made any mistakes (spelling, grammar, etc.), please tell me.

That's all for now. Please review!