*note Pipit's Austin Powers reference…

Chapter 26

What Defines Me

It had been exactly one week since Zelda's disappearance.

As the spirit maiden and her guardian made the long northwestern trek from the Skyview Temple to the spring near Eldin Volcano, she presided over the thoughts of a young man traveling westward through the skies.

Feeling like a new man after having slept in an actual bed the previous night, Link looked down, unable to view the expanse forming the mysterious planet below. Crimson's shadow skimmed the cloud cover, flowing over the sea of soft ripples. Pipit and Hematite followed close behind. An Azurian soldier led the two young men to a place that neither of them had been since early childhood: their home.

Link was caught in a string of musings. Snippets of one daydream mixed and melded with those of another. After everything that had happened that morning, not to mention that week, Link had entirely too much hurtling through his brain.

Zelda, goddesses, I miss you… I can't believe I'm going home… Zelda… Fi's story – what does it mean for me? Ghirahim and Zelda… Bringing her to safety, searching for this new sword… Hylia, what is gonna happen to us?

He felt guilty. Guilty for coming to the surface a reckless, cavalier fool. In his high-handed pursuit, he could have been killed.

Pipit was right, as usual, which implied that the demon was right, too. What Henya had hinted at in their conversation before the Wing Ceremony had been confirmed twice over.

Link had been overconfident in his dash to the surface, alone and inexperienced. Pipit's words, while harsh, were spoken out of love. Midna's concerns for his welfare had been lost on him as he forced his point, vainly shrugging her off.

Neither of them had wanted Link to go unaided, but, he had, pompously. At least he thought so. In the minutes preceding his departure, he gave Midna a less than heartfelt hug, looked Pipit in the face, all but sneered, and then left, leaping from the drop-off without even an iota of desire to look back.

Prior to that, a goodbye kiss in his room had turned into a sweltering 'outercourse' session. Thank the gods that their clothing had remained intact. Thank the gods again that he had held back. At least Midna got off as a parting gift.

We had no business doing any of that. Zelda should've been number one then. Zelda, and no one else. Certainly not myself and my own selfish needs. I'm sorry, Zel.

Link felt the heaviness of unspoken apologies.

Not a single doubt about his decision to leave had crossed his mind until he had fallen ill five days into his journey to the Skyview Temple.

He rolled his eyes. It had only taken a raging fever and waking up bound on Ghirahim's floor to make him regret his choices. Even Fi had warned him – ad nauseam– to return to Skyloft to recuperate, eat an actual meal, and sleep in a real bed. He felt his ribs, certain that he had at least a few pounds to reclaim. No wonder the demon had lobbed him around so easily - like an overly affectionate child roughhouses a small animal.

Link played idly with the downy feathers on the back of Crimson's head, feeling like a failure. Some hero he had turned out to be; he had ended up the one in need of a savior. His excursion had made one thing extremely clear: no matter how noble one's intentions, failure could still win the day.

Ironically, the two people who had urged him not to depart unaccompanied had come to his rescue. Sure, Ghirahim would have let him go in one piece; that much could be deduced by the demon's own words. But, there was no telling what might have happened to Link in that deserted temple, on that cold chamber floor, if his friends hadn't come.

Then again, he had waltzed right back to the very danger that he'd been so desperate to escape, on his own accord. Perhaps it wouldn't have made a difference if he'd been left to his own pitiful devices. The only difference made was that his companions could have been hurt, or worse, killed, trying to help him.

Link's mind was racing at the speed of light. He thought about himself and the demon. He wondered why he had felt so comfortable with him in the manor; comfortable enough to lean on him, if only for a short time. He considered his compulsion to follow the demon's voice into the depths of the Faron Woods. He questioned why he had allowed his enemy to fondle him, and, most disturbingly, why he had enjoyed it.

Enjoyed? he thought. Yes. Part of him had, at any rate. It was futile to deny it any longer. While most of him held nothing but hatred for the demon, a tiny, barely there whit of him had not only been pleased when the demon had violated him, but had waited for it; counted on it. When it finally happened, his entire body had rejoiced, ceding as a result of the rebellious fiber.

While the question of 'why?' was most prominent in his mind, the more practical 'is the weakness controllable?' deserved primacy. It eventually would have to be addressed.

How had General Sheik known about his dirty little secret? To have reality shoved down his throat like that during his time in the general's office was…insufferable.

Link's stomach squeezed inward and his face heated up. As if his loss of consciousness in the temple and his capture weren't bad enough.

Gods… Life had been so incomprehensibly different a week ago. An entire era separated the present time from the day that Zelda had been taken.

Addiction… Dependence… Obsession.

Three states of mind and body that Link never suspected he would have the displeasure of experiencing.

The only addiction he could have possibly been accused of in his 'former life' was his violin. That featherweight contrivance that was known to suck up countless hours of his time, day or night, weekday or weekend. Back home, study times were known to transform into private jam sessions more often than was academically sound.

…Because practicing his tremolo, martele and vibrato trills was much more fun than flipping mindlessly through textbooks. He would oftentimes begin in a book, but somehow end up with a bow in his right hand, and a violin in his left.

He would always start out quietly, mindful of Fledge's room to the right, and Cawlin and Strich's across the hall. They, especially Fledge, were sure to hear the product of each and every bow stroke through the thin walls. Still, in Link's emersion, the instrument's volume would soar, demonstrating every advanced bowing and fingering technique known to man, whether his listeners liked it or not.

Not only would everyone in building eleven hear him, but anyone within earshot of his open window would, as well. Luckily, dissonant sounds were a rarity for him, only coming to life if he was carelessly messing around.

A swift kick to his dorm room door meant one of two things: Pipit was tired of listening, or, Groose was in the building. Absorbed, Link ignored them every time. There were no rules against the playing of music in one's room at SKA. Besides that, he suspected that his instructors enjoyed the sound.

Zelda was known for spending hours in her room with her bamboo flute, and, more recently, her ten-stringed harp. Fortunately for her, no one banged her door down, or demanded that she stop. Perhaps it was because her room was on the second floor. Her father, Karane, Owlan and Horwell obviously didn't mind her playing. Pipit, as well, was gentlemanly enough to ignore the constant noise.

With a vivid memory of rich, flowing chords in his head, Link closed his eyes. He loved this simple yet sophisticated piece of polished wood that he'd owned since leaving Azuria. Not just loved, but adored. He needed it in ways that no one would ever understand—

Except, perhaps, for Midna. She played, after all…strangely enough. Midna's capacity to surprise was growing. Link needed to talk to her about these out-of-the-blue abilities of hers.

What about my own incompetence? What's going on with me?

Link had been so preoccupied that he'd failed to give his own problem the attention that it warranted. The mastery of his violin had slipped. Not just slipped, but vanished. Yesterday, his playing had resulted in nothing less than a racket. He sounded like a beginner. Even with the instrument in tune, the stroke of his bow had made the strings screech and wail. He couldn't even get an open string to sound right.

His frustration had been curbed by the unexpected arrival of two Skyloftian soldiers.

But, now, nothing was available to distract him from the truth.

A lifelong skill wouldn't simply cease to exist. It wasn't possible. That knowledge was a part of him. He couldn't forget it if he'd tried. The only ways to lose a hardwired skill would be memory loss, brainwashing, or maybe a lobotomy. Seeing as though his brain and memory were perfectly intact, something else must have caused the problem.

He knew how to play, but what he was doing – what he had always done – wasn't working. Midna had played moments before him, and it had worked well enough for her.

Odd…

A thought suddenly occurred to him. Perhaps it wasn't the violin, but the bow. He hadn't thought to check it.

How did that slip my mind?

Maybe Midna had tightened the hair past the point that he was used to. That could easily result in some sour sounds. Perhaps it needed rosin. How he hadn't felt the difference was a head-scratcher, though. He should have recognized any modifications.

He shrugged, shaking away the antsy feeling in his feet. There was no way of knowing until he could get his hands on his instrument. He couldn't wait.

Link's troubles, which he suspected were originating from within and stretching out to ensnare his friends, had begun eight weeks ago.

A seemingly ordinary yet fateful day. A peaceful Friday like any other, full of goofing off, lying around and teasing. Summer was just around the corner, the air was still cool, and Zelda was as playful and radiant as ever.

Yet, there was something off about her. She seemed distant. Attributing her lackluster attitude to her monthly bout of hormonal changes, Link thought nothing of it. But, it didn't take long for him to notice the strain on their friendship; not when it had always meant so much to him.

In fact, he didn't know how important Zelda was to him until what they once had had begun to fade.

Feelings had been hurt. Angry words had been said. He had chased her through a windstorm, and spent a quiet night alone with her by a fire on an isolated island. They had ventured to the North Province of Skyloft together, visiting friends. Zelda had yearned to see these people. Her need was urgent. Link hadn't understood it then. Now, he did. She was saying goodbye…

No. Zelda was alive and well, and she was going to stay that way – if he had anything to say about it. Over the years, Link's strength had always been enough, especially for Zelda. But now, like his foible regarding the demon, it was undeniable - he would have to become something greater.

He would see her soon. He would go back home, retrieve the surrogate weapon, and then head for the woods to hunt down the benedight sword Fi had told him about. Then he would be ready to meet Zelda, to tell her everything that he was feeling, and to fulfill his duty to protect her during her trip to a safe place.

This was all about her, yet Link had done little more than agonize over his own troubles. His trials, while precarious and difficult, were mostly just demoralizing. Surely her passage had been drastically more treacherous. She was in much more danger than him.

Link thought about Pipit and Zelda. Something had developed between them in recent days. How long these two had been smitten with each other was unclear. He certainly hadn't seen it coming.

Link glanced over his shoulder at him. So content, he seemed, sitting on his bird with an oversized breakfast sandwich in his face. The Crown Plaza definitely had its perks.

Link shook his head and started to smile, but it slowly dwindled. His eyes stayed on his friend.

In the days leading up to final exams at the academy, tensions had been high. He and Pipit had been terribly at odds, all thanks to misunderstandings, and a generous bit of immaturity. During the hours which carried him through the proudest event of his life, his knighting, he had been overrun by challenges. He had fought with Zelda, performed an awkward ceremony with her atop the Goddess Statue, and, for the first time, was jealous of her wanting to be with another guy.

One feeling contradicted another. He wanted Midna by his side that day, yet Zelda's wish to spend the afternoon with Pipit left him green with envy.

Hm… At least now I know why she wanted Pipit to go flying with her instead of me.

If Link was completely honest with himself, which he was becoming more inclined to be, then he had accepted his true reasons for hurrying to the surface -

Not only had overconfidence seized him, but he was disgruntled; sullen after finding that his standing as Zelda's first choice was in jeopardy. Someone else was in the running for his well-earned title.

Link's eyes narrowed. An old, familiar annoyance crept up, but he pushed it away. Zelda's feelings weren't Pipit's fault. His feelings weren't his fault, either. These things just…happened.

Zelda was no fool. She wouldn't have taken a liking to him unless there was a reason for it.

Pipit had failings like anyone else, but he was honest, true, dedicated, kind, and selfless - when he wanted to be. Karane was an outlier; their relationship had a way of bringing out his shortcomings. His conscience would undoubtedly overcome his misplaced justification soon enough, though.

There Pipit was, munching away on his rich-people-sandwich, as he called it earlier, happy as could be. He didn't even seem nervous about returning to Azuria. Stranger still was his level of comfort after his side trip to the demon realm. It was amazing. Did nothing faze him?

"Pipit…?" Link finally called. His friend continued to dig into his food. "Pipit?"

"Mmmmmyum," Pipit mumbled.

"Pipit!" Link shouted behind him, garnering an offhand glance from the soldier. At last, Pipit set his undying love for his sandwich aside.

"Yeah?" he said, urging Hematite forward. In a moment, the two loftwings flew abreast.

"Enjoying your breakfast?" Link asked, grinning. Pipit answered in the affirmative.

"All happiness depends on a leisurely breakfast," he said with his mouth full. "I enjoyed yours, too. I dunno how you're not starving."

"I got out of the habit of eating in the morning on the surface."

"I think you got outta the habit of eating," Pipit said with a leery glance.

"Maybe a little bit."

"You need to eat, man."

"I will."

"Maybe we can grab a bite in your old institution," Pipit said jokingly. Link wasn't amused.

"Ha, ha."

"I'm serious! It's time for a trip down memory lane. You're twenty-one. It's been like…thirteen years since we've been there."

"Just 'cause we're going back doesn't mean we have to visit the children's home."

"Why not?"

"Because, Pipit. What's the point of going? To torture myself?"

"Yes, 'cause you obviously haven't had enough torment," Pipit quipped. "Actually, I was thinking maybe we could ask them about your parents." Link's mind blanked for a second.

"What?"

"Yeah, why not? Let's solve this decade-and-a-half-long mystery of who your parents are." Link pondered. "And where they went. It's like an ancientry at this point."

"I dunno…" Link said, looking away.

"Why not? You've always wondered. I think I'm curious enough for the both of us." Link shrugged. "Maybe they're both awesome violinists. Wouldn't that be crazy?"

"I guess."

Link was brought back to his time on the road to Acheron, the last time he'd thought about his parents. His connection with Ghirahim had pulled many unsolicited obscurities from his mind.

"You do not have what it takes to succeed at the tasks which have been set aside for you. You will never survive the hardships that you will be forced to face by that truculent tyrant. An unbreakable spirit is not enough, sky child."

The demon's harsh accusations were difficult to forget. In fact, Link had never been so apt to remember a person's every word.

If there was anything he wanted to rid himself of, it certainly wasn't his musical expertise…

"You should feel guilty. If you had chosen her instead of the other little vamp, then this entire calamity would have turned out quite differently.

"Oh, how wrongfully the Goddess chose when she formed you in your mother's womb, sky child. You - a worthless nobody, a deserted orphan whom no one had even the slightest bit of pity for… A valueless goat-herder. A despised human being by many with an intolerable stutter who failed repeatedly to find his place… You were simply a coward looking for a way to be something."

Link stared heatedly into space as his old home drew closer, emerging from the mist.

"A selfish failure of a friend who regrettably misplaced his passions onto another, more attractive, woman. A supposed man of honor who secretly wished to seek revenge against the spirit maiden by making her pay in unspeakable ways. A hero full of regret for not listening to his guide's wise advice...for failing to heed the concerns of his friends...for feeling utterly unworthy of the title, 'the Goddess's chosen one'."

Link cringed. A chill climbed from his spine to his shoulders as he remembered the feel of Ghirahim's hands…and his mouth. He shuddered.

"…for feeling utterly unworthy of the title, 'the Goddess's chosen one'."

Link glared into the distance.

"Unworthy."

"Jerk," he mumbled to himself.

"Huh?" Pipit asked, sitting up. Link snapped out of it.

"Oh, nothing," he said flatly.

"A man unwilling to admit that his love for his best mate has gone beyond that of friendship…"

"Pssh, now that's just stupid," Link whispered.

"Huh? What the hell are you talking about?" Link cleared his throat.

"Nothing, I'm just…remembering a few things."

"About what?" Pipit popped the remainder of the bread in his mouth.

"Our stalker." Pipit's eyes widened.

"Our stalker? You mean Jirgaheem?"

"I'm suddenly profoundly grateful for your bad form with names, Pip."

"What're you thinking about him for?"

"How can I not?" Link raised a brow toward his friend. "He's like a virus… He just…"

"Makes you really fucking sick?" Pipit interrupted. The two sat in silence for a moment. Eventually, Link had to chuckle.

"Yeah, I'd say so," he agreed.

"Sorry," Pipit said, whipping his hat off and ruffling his disheveled hair. "I'm a little pissed at that guy at the moment."

"You don't have anything to be sorry for," Link said. "Gods, I mean, look what happened to you because of me."

"That wasn't your fault, man."

"Yes, it was," Link insisted. "I shouldn't have left to find Zelda in the first place. Not without taking someone with me." He searched Pipit's face to make sure he wasn't mentally disregarding him. "I'm sorry I left like that, especially after you urged me not to." Pipit's lip curled in thought.

"It's fine."

"No, it's not," Link said. "What happened to you last night is because of me. If I hadn't been in such a rush to prove to Zelda…" He blinked, swallowing back his confession. "Then this wouldn't have happened."

"It's fine," Pipit reiterated.

"How is it fine?"

"Because it has to be. It's over and done with. Am I supposed to be mad at you forever?"

"You are mad, then," Link pointed out.

"Maybe I was…a little," Pipit said, shrugging. "But, what good is it gonna do? Will me hating you make you feel better?"

"In theory, yes. In reality, probably not."

"That's not what I want, man," Pipit said. "Last night sucked, but I'm not blaming you for it." He took a minute to brood. His friend looked at him strangely. "Yeah, you shouldn't have left." He gave Link a stern glance. "Actually, it was stupid as hell." Link almost recoiled, not only at Pipit's word choice, but his severe expression. Pipit let the silence speak for him. "There, you happy?" He crossed his arms and gave a perfectly patronizing glare. Somehow, Link had come to miss the Pipit-stare during their time apart, even if it grated on him.

"Maybe a little," he said, facing forward.

"Aha!" Pipit yelled, pointing in Link's face.

"What?" Link cried, jumping.

"I knew it!"

"Knew what?"

"You're a masochist! You're in trouble, man. Jhirabeem is gonna have a field day with you." Link didn't know how to respond at first.

"I am not a masochist!"

"Then what are you? I'm pretty sure anyone who gets off on being verbally ripped up is a masochist."

"I'm not getting off on anything," Link said.

"Then why are you happy I said that?" Pipit's dark eyebrow came up.

"I'm not, I mean…" Link thought for a second. "If I feel bad about something, it helps if the person I offended-"

"Does something unpleasant back? You're a masochist, man."

"There's a difference between that and myself," Link said, getting annoyed.

"No, there isn't," Pipit said, still crossing his arms. "If it makes you feel good to be reproved, then who's to say it won't develop into something worse? I think we both know someone who'd be willing to play that game with you, know what I mean?"

"Pipit…" Link muttered, shaking his head. "Do you even realize what you're accusing me of? What you're saying is worse than what I was thinking about earlier. And it's not true. Where are you getting this stuff from?"

"I know how you are," Pipit said. "You're a masochist." Link grumbled.

"And you're nuts."

"Man, you've always had a guilt-complex going on. I wouldn't be saying this right now unless there was a reason for it." Pipit's gaze hardened.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You've got a psycho after you, bud. And if you actually like what he's doing, then—"

"Pipit, Goddesses." Link glowered at him. "You're kidding, right?" Pipit slowly shook his head. "You're out of your mind."

"If things were normal, and this Ghira-whatever stuff wasn't happening, I'd say have at it if you want. Go out and get your kicks with somebody." Link just gaped. "No matter who they are, ya know?"

"Pipit…"

"I just don't want you getting sucked into anything."

"What makes you think I would?"

"Just a hunch," Pipit said. "Or maybe it's 'cause he said that you enjoyed your time with him, and I believed him." Link was almost speechless. Almost.

"Are you saying that just to mess with me?" he asked. Pipit picked at his teeth.

"No," he said with his pinky in his mouth. "Maybe I'm just trying to scare some sense into you." Link looked away.

"I think it's time to talk about something else," he said evenly.

"What's that?"

"How about we talk about you and your mom?" Link suggested with a spurious tone. Pipit stopped what he was doing.

"What about?"

"Well, since we're on the subject of flaws…" Link glared at him. "When's the last time you said a kind word to your mother? Or are you too busy verbally abusing her to say something nice?" Pipit's hands, mouth, and face dropped. If his sandwich was still in existence, it would have been lost to the clouds. "Or maybe your mom's a masochist like me and you're doing her a favor."

"That's a messed up thing to say, man…"

"It would be if it weren't true," Link said, "but it is." Perhaps if Pipit hadn't ticked him off so much he would've felt bad about his friend's sudden chapfallen look. "Mallara is one of the sweetest people I know. And you treat her like garbage." Pipit slowly sat up, his face gradually turning from shocked to irritated.

"Just because I told her to stop using my money to pay people like you to clean her house? That's not treating her like crap."

"You hollered at her, Pipit! I heard you from a quarter of a mile away!"

"I gave it to her to buy freakin' bread!" Pipit shouted, attracting the attention of the Azurian soldier. "Not pay you, or whatever little twerp decides to show up and take advantage of a lady who feels the need to overpay someone to do an easy job – that she should be doing herself."

"You calling me a twerp?" Link asked, squaring his shoulders. Pipit leaned closer.

"Sure. Why not? You'd probably like it." Link grinded his teeth. "Do I make you horny, twerp?" Link gasped and drew back.

"I guess I hit a sore spot," he said dryly.

"Guess I can say the same," Pipit replied, "seeing as though you're pulling this complaint out of nowhere."

"It's not out of nowhere. You've yelled at your mom, inexcusably, plenty of times."

"It's not inexcusable," Pipit said more quietly, looking at the soldier in front of them. "You know how she is. She's irresponsible and sloppy. It reflects badly on me, even though I don't live with her anymore. I took that patrolling job to help pay for my classes, but, also so I wouldn't have to watch her either starve, or take some crappy, menial job to make up for everything that she's thrown away over the years." He looked away. "What my dad left for us should have been more than enough." He paused again. "Her and her gambling problem…" Link shook his head.

"Is that the only person you can think about? Yourself?" Link asked. "I think you need to give your mom a break. You know she hasn't been the same since your dad died. She may 'squander' what you give her sometimes, but she tries her best." He repaid Pipit with the same delation that he had just dealt him. "Sure, she goes into town and drinks and gambles sometimes. But she needs you. And I don't just mean for money." He zoomed in on his friend's elusive gaze. "You're all she's got. She needs you to be more than just a critical drone in her ear."

"How did we go from you being hot for Despero to me and my mom's dysfunctional relationship?"

…..

The Azurian army base was much like the state as a whole: small. While Skyloft's Fort Cielgrenier and Superna's Fort Céleste each housed at least five-thousand soldiers, Azulstone contained less than half that amount.

The base was no less bustling, though. Even on a Saturday morning, soldiers and their superiors were pacing the grounds.

The one distinction that Azulstone could claim above all other bases, however, was the abundance of blue eyes. Nine out of ten Azurians, just like Link, Pipit and Zelda, had eyes ranging from the rich shade of cerulean to the soft hue of an ice field. Whether red-haired, blonde, brunette or black-haired, most people shared this feature.

"Ah, the scent of childhood," Pipit said, breathing deeply.

"Apparently our childhood smells like manure," Link said. The most prominent characteristic of their home was farmland. Fields of crops, predominantly cotton, sprawled in every direction outside of the base. Chickens, cows and goats could be seen roaming.

Link's pulse quickened when he saw his old farm from the air – the satisfactory yet hollow place where he had lived and worked for two years before moving to Skyloft to pursue a knight's education with Pipit.

"It's not that bad," Pipit said. "It brings back so many good memories that the stench doesn't bother me."

"Wish I felt the same."

After a thirty minute flight, the three young men and their loftwings welcomed the landing. After a generous amount of stretching, the visitors were led down a well-worn path toward the general's office.

After directing the soldier and knights through a maze of trees, the footpath expanded into a wide dirt road. Long, extensive flats ran along each side. The modest structures comprised the majority of the soldiers' barracks.

Walking leisurely down the road, Link compared his birthplace to Superna—

No high-rises here, much less buildings that resembled castles. No constant hum in his ears from a city that refused to sleep. This place was quiet, pastoral and laid back. The unstrained way of life flourishing in the vast countryside carried over into the fort, coloring it with a very different brush than any other military institution in the hemisphere.

Link inhaled a concoction of smells that he hadn't imbibed in over a decade. It wasn't all bad. It reminded him of his downtime after a hard day's work on the Ordonian farm, which almost always consisted of either stick-fights with Pipit, private excursions with Zelda, or both.

Link smiled. He and Zelda, in their younger years, were as inseparable as they'd been in the days leading up to her recent detachment.

From an affluent family, she was well-known and loved; the opposite of her short, scrawny friend from the orphanage near her house.

With access to some of the finer things in life, most of which were imported, she would regularly supply her best friend with a much needed reprieve from the daily grind that was life in an institution, or a farm. Common delicacies for her became lifesaving luxuries for him. The simple gift of Zelda's confectionaries kept him sane, stopping him from writing himself off as a worthless nobody who was worthy of little more than goat's milk and gruel. It made him think - despite what he'd been told - that he deserved something more.

The smallest gestures left him with the most lasting impressions.

He peeked at his friend out of the corner of his eye. Standing to the right, Pipit's gaze dropped to the ground as if he could feel the jaggedness of Link's thoughts.

Pipit was justified in his discomfort; the projected sharpness wasn't imagined. Link's face said it all, but Pipit refused to look at him. He thought it best not to, seeing as though they were in the company of others, and he had already offended him once.

But, little did Pipit know that he was prancing about in Link's thoughts, destroying one of the few memories of home that was actually pleasant for him.

Link wondered how many of the trio's childhood playtimes had been marred by Pipit's tainted thoughts about Zelda. Until recently, Link would have never suspected his friend of such indecency. The obvious had been overlooked. He scoffed, surprised at himself, but not at Pipit.

Link arrived at the general's office far more punctually than he would have had he not been incited by someone else. In fact, he was early; the general had yet to enter his office for the day.

The one room building was softly lit and rustic, the favored atmosphere of Azurians. After taking a chair in front of the general's desk, Link watched as Pipit was seated next to him. He rolled his eyes as his friend sat back.

Why couldn't Azuria's general be as much of a stickler for the rules as Superna's? Link thought about requesting a one-on-one conversation.

His underlying aggravation was not helping matters. He'd been displeased with Pipit ever since he had seen him with Zelda on the surface. Pipit had also been a veritable pain on the flight to the Skyloftian army base, and had left Link high and dry in Superna. After refusing to take part in the trip to the library, he'd provided his companion with an eyeful that he most definitely hadn't anticipated, nor had he wanted. Then, he'd gone off with the demon and tried to lie about it.

Link's irascibility was rising. He closed his eyes, suspecting that he might burn a hole through whatever unfortunate object was snagged in his sights. Had he really thought Pipit was loyal and selfless earlier?

Pipit thought he heard him growl.

"Dude, let it go," he said, staring at the general's empty chair.

"How do you know what I'm mad about?"

"You're pissy 'cause I voiced my concern about your well-being. How mature of you." Pipit glanced at the ceiling.

"Mature?" Link turned to him. "You have no idea how much effort it's taken not to knock you out these past twenty-four hours."

"This isn't about Lord Geejareem at all. This is about Zelda." Link didn't like his flippant tone.

"Yeah?" Link asked.

"Anybody with half a brain could read you like a book, bro. And the best part of all is that you have no goddess-damned right to feel the way that you do right now. And you're a hypocrite." Nothing but the sound of merry, chirping chickadees filled the office for a moment.

"Mind elaborating on that?"

"My pleasure," Pipit replied, picking his chair up and twisting it around. The wooden legs slammed into the carpeted floor before he sat with a thump. Link eyed him from the side. "Zelda might be your best friend, but she's not your girlfriend. How is it any of your business who she talks to, or flirts with, or kisses?"

"I know you don't understand, but it's always been my business," Link said, looking at his hands.

"Well, now is as perfect a time as any to let it go. Maybe not completely, but just enough to give her the space that she's given you. Pretty sure she's released you to Midna so to speak, or at least accepted that you may want to date other people. You owe her the same courtesy." Link sighed, knowing that most of his own opinions would be better left unshared. Some, however, just had to be said.

"Is no one safe from your lewd practices, Pipit?" he asked. "Seems nobody is turned away when it comes to your lustfulness. Even Zelda, who you've known your whole life." Pipit looked like he might laugh.

"Oh, so you wanna talk about lustfulness, do you? How clean is your mind? How many females have been the pampered guests of Link's dirty thoughts lately, huh? Plenty, I'm sure." Link's tight gaze didn't move an inch. Pipit leaned closer. "Try and tell me you haven't thought about Zelda in a carnal way before. I dare you." He waited, but Link wasn't interested in disclosures. "See? I told you. And you have no more right to lust after her than I do."

Link drummed his fingers and chewed his tongue, glaring indifferently.

"That's quite the poker face you have there," Pipit said, "but I can see right through it. Don't act all innocent. You're not nearly as pure as you come off."

"What would you know about purity?" Link asked.

"I can recognize its absence."

"Wow, go figure."

"She's never been your girlfriend, yet I'm sure you've entertained some less than virtuous thoughts about her. And you wanna get on my case?"

"Something makes me think that she's no different than every other woman unlucky enough to pique your interest," Link said. "She's just another drop in a very large ocean."

"So it's about a number?" Pipit tilted his head in suspicion. "Then what if I behaved myself, and never thought about anyone but her? What then?"

"At least she'd be the only one," Link said.

"Yeah, right. You still wouldn't be happy, 'cause you think you deserve her more. And Midna. You think you're entitled to every woman you want. You have to be number one."

"That's not true."

"And speaking of her, 'Mister Innocent', I know she occupies your thoughts at night, if you know what I mean." Link still didn't move. "But who held the job before Midna came along, huh?" Once again, Pipit waited. "Well, I'll tell you who: Zelda, who you've known your whole life. For shaaaaaame."

"Knock it off, Pipit," Link rumbled.

"What? You seem to think it's okay for you, but wrong for me. And your excuse is that you never fantasize about anyone else, right?" After a few seconds, he sighed, finding Link's silence maddening. "You're full of crap, man. Trying to act like bad thoughts never cross your mind. I'll bet you're just as bad as me, if not worse. It's always the quiet ones."

With nothing to say, Link just sat there.

"Who else?" Pipit asked.

"What?"

"You're not better than me, pal. Who else?"

"Who else, what?"

"Karane?" Pipit pushed forward. Link leaned sideways.

"What're you trying to say? I've never thought about Karane like that."

"Why not? She's got a nice body. She's pretty. I wouldn't be surprised."

"So does Midna," Link noted. "So what does that mean for you?"

"It means I'm guilty, man."

"What!" Link jumped to his feet and stared down at his friend. "When?"

"It was just once," Pipit told him pointblank. "After we all went swimming on Kehia Island. She was practically naked." He shrugged. "I couldn't get the image out of my head for days, so I did something about it."

"Goddesses, Pipit, is nothing sacred?"

"Hey, sorry," he added with a shoulder scrunch, "but at least I can admit it, unlike you."

"Well, unlike you, I consider my friends' girlfriends off limits!"

"What about the single ladies, then?" Pipit crossed his arms and raised a brow. "Like, say, Peatrice?" He gave an inaudible chuckle. A grimace crossed Link's face before discretion could stop it.

"No way, Pipit."

"How about Ilia?"

"Pretty, but not my type," Link said.

"Not exciting enough for you, huh?" Pipit's eyes shifted. "How about Kina?"

"Pipit, that's enough of this game."

"Hell no. We're not done yet." Pipit stood to join his friend. "You have a type. It's just a matter of uncovering it."

"Fine, Pipit, I do have a type, and it's Midna. And, yes, I've thought about her, okay?"

"Well, now we know you've been lecherous toward two women, at least." Pipit provided two fingers for a visual. "But there's more. I refuse to believe you're better than me."

"The general's gonna be here any minute," Link whispered. "Do you really want him walking into—"

"How about Malon?" Pipit chimed in. Link froze. Pipit's brow furrowed.

"No," Link said with a headshake.

"She was your first kiss, man. You're telling me you never thought past that?"

"Nope."

"What about Wryna?"

"Kukiel's mom?" Link said, his voice rising in exasperation. "What? She's married!"

"Okay. Try this on for size." Pipit stepped nearer and grasped his chin. The other hand pointed. "Orielle." Again, Pipit waited, but this time, Link had no answer to give. He simply blinked, swallowed and looked away for a split-second. He watched Pipit's curious grin turn into a full-blown and rather evil smile. His eyes twinkled.

"Check and mate," Pipit said, lowering his head. Link held back a flinch. "I got you." He wagged his finger about. "I get it. You've got the hots for the helpless girls, right?"

"Pipiiiiit," Link groaned.

"Oh, Link, my loftwing is hurt," Pipit cooed in falsetto, folding his hands beside his face. "Pleeease, go find my brother—" He flitted about. "—and get some healing potion for my bird." He batted his eyes. Link mumbled. "You can be my brave, handsome knight and I can be your goddess." He edged close enough for Link to give him a nice uppercut to the jaw. "Thank you, Link. Let me show you my…gratitude."

Link felt heat surge through his body. His hands clenched as his eyes met Pipit's.

"Still think you're better than me?" Pipit asked, enjoying himself. Link's forbearance was wrestling with his pride; the latter was winning. "Well?"

In the interstice between Pipit's questions, Link considered five different ways to cause vast amounts of pain without excessive bodily injury. His fingers were restless, opening and closing with fervor. Pipit took notice. The two were so close that he could see his own smirk in Link's eyes.

"Since when have you become so ireful?" Pipit asked. Link's chest puffed up.

"Since you accused me of being a masochist," Link said gruffly.

"Well, I'm not apologizing," Pipit stated. "I meant it."

Pride now had forbearance in a headlock.

"I figured," Link replied.

"I think you need to admit I'm right. You aren't as pious as everyone thinks." A flame was dancing its way up Link's body, changing his already flushed ears to a rosy red.

"I'm not apologizing either," Link said. "You are worse than me. And you're a jerk to your mother. And…" He slid so close to Pipit that their chests were touching. "You're a selfish coward."

"I'm a what?"

"You heard me."

"Why?"

"Because of what you're doing with Karane. You're afraid to tell her the truth, but you have no problem using her. Every time you seek out her company, you use her." A stiff finger jabbed beneath Pipit's collarbone. "Every second that you allow her to invest herself in you for your own egotistical gain, you use her. You tell her whatever she wants to hear with no intention of keeping your promises." He reached up and shoved Pipit back with a grunt. He caught himself against the desk, staring. "You took vows, Pipit. Vows to respect women. Not to increase the amount of scum in society."

A chorus of birds sounded in the background.

Disoriented, Pipit straightened up, yanking on the front of his tunic, grasping it tightly to keep his hands busy.

"Scum, huh?" he asked, reclaiming his spot in Link's face. "Is that really how you view me?" Link didn't respond. As furious as he was, he was reluctant to speak in haste. "Well, I've got news for you, pal. News. So listen up." Link leaned back on his left foot, ready for anything. "I'm not afraid to tell Karane the truth. I already decided I would yesterday, after we discussed it in Superna. I'm gonna talk to her as soon as we get back."

"That makes it all better, I suppose," Link muttered sarcastically, discounting his earlier attempt to focus on his friend's positive traits.

"What? Does that not please you, hero?" Link's nostrils flared.

"Don't call me hero," he warned. Pipit cocked his head.

"Oh?" he asked with a grin. "Why not, hero?"

Desiring to recreate their bare-handed fight in the sparring hall from three weeks ago, Link seriously considered teaching Pipit a lesson.

Before impulse could take over, however, both young men found themselves caught unawares by a rather commanding presence in a navy blue uniform. Looking the knights over, the taller man brought his hands behind his back. Link and Pipit turned to face him, quickly dipping into two knightly bows.

"Morning, boys," the man said slowly. His bright, cyan-tinted eyes offset his grey hair and chiseled face.

"Morning, sir," they both said. The slight upturn on one side of his mouth suggested that he was privy to the tension in the room.

"I'm General Pajaro," he said, presenting them each with a firm handshake. "Which one of you is Link?"

"I am, sir," Link said without delay.

"Have a seat, boys."

The two sat in their previous spots, each fighting back a scowl.

"I understand you are both Ordon natives," the general said, lacing his fingers atop his desk. Link looked down, happy to see the odd fingerprint and messy pile of papers resting on the not-so-shiny desktop. He and Pipit both nodded. "And you're both knights. Wonderful."

Link gave a weak smile, which was more than could be said for Pipit.

"More and more of our youngsters, especially our boys, are emigrating to nearby states. Cyainus and Twilight are popular for their exceptional junior knight academies. Superna, however, seems to be considered the acme of all destinations. Nothing like a big city to lure a simple farmhand." He paused as if to receive a response. Link nodded. The general looked back and forth between him and Pipit.

"Is there a problem, boys?" the general asked. Link's heart thumped. "Lighthearted conversation doesn't seem to be having the effect that I would like it to." Rigidity struck Link's spine. He stole a glance at Pipit, whose mouth was in a tight line. His eyes were inexpressive. Link looked down, pounding back the redness that was trying to make a comeback.

"It's all right, sir," Pipit said. Link held his breath, clutching his pants at the knees.

Oh gods, no…

"Pipit…" Link whispered.

"We were just having a disagreement," Pipit explained. "See, we're lovers." Link barely held back a muffled grunt, but couldn't quell the riled exhale. Motionless, the general eyed them both. Pipit stared back, straight-faced. "He's having a little trouble accepting his role as the femme, is all."

"Gugh…" was the only sound Link could make. The general's eye twitched.

"Not a big deal. We'll be okay. Won't we…honey?" Gazing lovingly at his friend, Pipit reached to the side, wrapping his hand around the top of Link's thigh. With a gasp, Link looked down. Even though he knew the general couldn't see what was happening, he was so embarrassed he could hardly stand it. When Pipit's hand began to knead, the blush finally spread across his face.

Humiliation. Anger. Link didn't know which of the two was dominant at the moment. With his head low, he glared hatefully at the far wall. The general's lip dropped ever so slightly.

Moving nothing but his arm, Link slid his palm over the intruding hand. Each of his fingers sneaked their way in between Pipit's before clamping down. With Pipit's knuckles secured within his own, Link squeezed hard. Unsparing, he had Pipit squirming in record time. Concealing his agony for a whole three seconds, Pipit turned away and made a pitiful sound. The general took on the likeness of a statue.

It didn't take long for Pipit to fall to his knees beside Link's chair. After one last squeeze, he quietly begged for mercy, schooled on the subject of why it was a bad idea to mortify Link in front of an authority figure. Pulling free, he inspected his aching joints, complaining that his sword-wielding hand was probably ruined for good.

"Love hurts," Link said to the bewildered general.

…

Finished answering the general's questions and released from his obligation, Link made the short trip in the warm Saturday air to his old orphanage, following the advice of his friend – who was still griping and whining.

They hadn't said a word to each other since the general had interrupted the would-be fight of the century. But, when pride was broken, silence oftentimes followed suit.

With a twist and an excruciating crack of his knuckles, Pipit gave in.

"I can't believe you did that," he said. Link turned to gape at him.

"You can't believe me?" he asked.

"Oooh, pain hurrrts…"

"You deserved every second of that," Link chided. "You are unbelievable."

"You pissed me off with the mom and Karane comments," Pipit moaned.

"Well, you got under my skin long before that, Pipit."

"That was mean…"

"Mean?" Link asked with a laugh. "And what exactly would you call, 'We're lovers'? And, 'He's the femme'? What're you trying to do? Don't you know I'm gonna be seeing that guy again?"

"Oh geez, so what," Pipit groaned.

"So what? That's all you have to say?"

"For now." Pipit tried to rub away the soreness.

"How about, 'I'm sorry'?"

"You first."

"Why should I apologize first?"

"'Cause you almost crippled me. Again. You're a brute."

"Pip, you asked for it," Link said, looking him in the eye as they walked. "Wouldn't you agree?"

"Not really."

"You grabbed my leg. I thought you were gonna—"

"Okay, okay," Pipit admitted. "I guess I see your point."

"So, do I really need to apologize first?"

"…Yes."

"Gods, Pip, you're something else." Pipit shrugged. "Fine, all right? I'll man up first." Link pivoted, walking backward to face his friend. "I'm sorry for saying anger-fueled things, and for nearly obliterating your hand."

"Thanks."

"And?" Link urged.

"And what?"

"Ugh," Link sighed.

The rest of the walk past several farms and meadows was spent endeavoring to draw a simple 'I'm sorry' from his obstinate companion. After a good amount of convincing, Pipit relinquished the words. He even promised to never massage Link's leg again; not in the presence of a general, anyway. Link deemed his statement suitable.

Moving beyond their mutual annoyance, the two chitchatted all the way to the stone steps of the Ordonian Children's Home. In the middle of an apple orchard, the place wasn't even close to the dark, macabre house of misery that would tease Link's idle thoughts and pop up in his nightmares every now and again.

On the contrary, children were everywhere, and they seemed happy. Ascending the steps, the two friends passed by several groups of boys and girls. Of varying ages, they played and conversed with one another. Some stopped to check out the tunic-wearing strangers.

"How did you ever survive this hell hole, man?" Pipit asked, observing the carefree activity around him. "Poor you."

"This place was a lot different years ago, Pipit."

"Sure."

Entering the wide corridor of the three-story structure was like brushing shoulders with the past. The smell of the polished floors and nearby dining hall brought back a flood of memories.

"It's this way," Link told his friend, moving as if there wasn't a moment to lose. After weaving in and out of rambunctious children, they arrived at the main office. The door opened with a memorable creak.

Sights, sounds and scents were all the same, yet the spirit of the residence was much different, as was the face behind the chest-high counter. Light streamed in from a large window, delivering some much needed cheer.

"Morning," Link announced to the receptionist. The older, brown-haired heavy set woman peeked over the top of her reading glasses.

"Can I help you?" She removed her eyewear, adjusting the top of her grey linen dress.

"Yes," Link said, stepping up to the counter. "I'm here to collect some old records of mine." The woman scrutinized him from head to toe. It was impossible to tell whether she was pleased or not. The wrinkles around her eyes contracted.

"Records? Were you a resident here at one time?"

"Yes. I left about fifteen years ago after living here for two years."

"Resident identification number?" the lady asked, replacing her glasses. She turned to her right, preparing to fish through an enormous drawer full of files.

"22-119-86-S," Link recited. Caressing his hand, Pipit gave him a funny look, not knowing anything on the matter. The woman deserted the drawer to face them again.

"'S'?" she asked. Link nodded. "I'm afraid I can't give these records to you."

"Why?" Link asked.

"Because of the nature of your enrollment," the woman said. "The 'S' in your ID number indicates that your records are sealed." Link didn't say anything for a moment.

"Sealed?" he asked.

"Yes, sealed," the woman repeated, giving him a concluding glance before returning to the paperwork on her desk and preparing to put her glasses on.

"Well, wait," Link said, regaining her attention. "I'm hoping to find my parents." The woman's glasses hovered as she looked him squarely in the eye.

"While that is a noble venture, young man, you will have to go elsewhere. I am unable to help you at this time." She was close to shooing him out of her office.

"Wait! Ma'am," he said, his cadence attracting her gaze once more. "This is my only way of finding them. I live all the way in Skyloft. I haven't talked to anyone from Azuria in years. I never had any family here. I don't know if I'd be able to find anyone to help…" Pipit stood quietly, surprised by Link's sudden thirst for answers. Earlier, he couldn't have cared less.

Wrapping her fingers around the frame of her dark glasses, the woman thought.

"You said fifteen years ago?" she asked. Link fervently nodded. With tapered eyes, the woman dipped into one of the many drawers surrounding her desk. Link waited, twiddling his thumbs. The joyous sounds of kids poured in from the hallway.

After a minute of paper shifting, the receptionist pulled a brown folder from a cabinet. She opened it and laid it down, perusing its contents. Link rocked on his toes, eager to see.

"What age did you leave the institution?" the lady asked, popping her glasses back on her nose.

"Six," Link answered. She lowered her head again.

"Where did you go from here?"

"Blue Sage Farm," Link told her. Her eyes dropped again.

"What is your name?"

"Link."

"Spell it, please."

"L-I-N-K." He blinked, waiting.

"Stats from last physical exam," the woman began. "Age: six years. Height: forty inches. Weight: forty-two pounds. Hair color: blond. Eye color: medium sapphire."

"What's with the twenty questions?" Pipit interjected.

"She's just trying to confirm that it's me," Link said, looking the woman in the eye. Staring back, she shifted the paper before examining it again.

"I do believe that these are your records," she stated.

"Can I see them, please?" Link asked, turning up the charm. The woman started to smile. Her glasses came off.

"I'm sorry, but I can't do that," she said. Link's shoulders slumped.

"But, I have to know," he said, his eyes pleading. The woman pursed her lips. She looked at the paper again, tapping her fingers against the desktop. "I'm twenty-one. Now that I'm older, and I've been through four years of senior knight school…" His voice trailed off. "I'm a knight now. I guess I…finally have something to be proud of." He looked at Pipit. "I have been wondering about my parents for years. I haven't been able to stop thinking about why they gave me up. It's…haunted me." He inched to the counter. The woman sat stone-faced. She sighed.

"Well, no matter what, I still can't give you these records." Link looked somberly at Pipit. "However, I also can't tell you that the last city of residence recorded for your parents is Evenfall, in the state of Twilight." Link's world stopped. He was quiet at first.

"Twilight…" he echoed. He brought his head up. "What are their names?"

"I can't tell you that they're Kiri and Arn," she told him, raising her eyebrows slyly. His jaw dropped before peering at his friend. He grinned.

"Thank you, ma'am, for not telling me," Link said with a polite nod. He swiftly exited the room with Pipit in tow.

"You're not welcome," the woman said to herself with a smile.

Hauling Pipit by the front of his uniform, Link speed-walked down the front steps, bypassing dozens of kids and attendants. He didn't stop until they reached the nearest apple tree several dozen yards from the building.

"Thanks for encouraging me to go in their Pip," Link said, his eyes aglow. "Kiri and Arn, wow…" He gave an excited hop. "They seem real…for the first time. They have names."

"Most people do," Pipit replied.

"Twilight. We're gonna be going there before we stop in Cyainus."

"And then we get to go freakin' home, finally…" Pipit wiggled his left ring finger to make sure it was still functional.

"Man. I hope we have some time to visit Evenfall," Link said.

"Guess it depends how much of a jerk our next escort is," Pipit said. "And how far the town is from the army base—"

"Well, I don't care," Link said. "I'll find a way to get there."

"Dude, it's been what…seventeen years since you were placed in that orphanage?" Pipit made a face. "There's no guarantee your parents are living where that old, musty piece of paper says they are. Plus, they wanted your records sealed…"

"Don't think so negatively, Pip," Link said, slapping his friend on the upper arm. He flinched.

"Oh, I'm not," he said. "If all the girls from Twilight are as hot as Midna, then…" He chuckled ruttishly. Link had no trouble ignoring him.

"Come on," he said, heading back toward Azulstone. "Let's get back to the landing area. Our escort's coming."

"We still have an hour, man. Can't we just relax for a while? Laze around?" He nabbed a freshly fallen apple that lay at his feet. He shoved it in Link's face. "Here." Link took it.

"I don't wanna be late." He scooped up a second apple. With a leap, a twist and a toss, he returned the favor.

"He doesn't wanna be late, he says," Pipit said, taking a huge, loud bite. Juice went flying everywhere. He swore at his wet shirt. "When have you ever been concerned about getting anywhere on time in the morning?"

Discussing the unhappy truth that fruit tends to make a person even hungrier than he started out, the two not so leisurely marched back to the army base to meet with the solder from Twilight.

...

Thanks for reading! So, what do you think that ID number means (minus the 'S')?