Linebeck wandered almost aimlessly through the snow-blanketed streets. It was cold, and he found himself shivering before long. It was late at night, but he barely felt tired. He had around one hundred rupees at hand. He realized perhaps three miles from the library that he still had Link's knife but kept it, nonetheless. He kept the heirloom knife in one of the outside pockets, ready to be pulled out and used.
He didn't see any other awake orphans. For a brief moment, he was worried that Tetra's group might attack while Linebeck was on his way back home, but Bellum was dangerous. That was city-wide knowledge. They'd be stupid just to go right in without any sort of preparations. Not that he planned to stop.
His legs felt like they were made of gel when the sun peaked over the edge of the city wall. He collapsed against the wall, taking out the container of fruit slices. Linebeck let out a small groan, giving his legs some reprise while he ate his meager breakfast. As the sun rose, so did the stray animals, a few scrawny cats making their way through the snow, looking for warm spots, and birds flew around up above.
He sat for a few minutes after finishing his foot, then continued down the alleyways. Linebeck wasn't planning to stop for anything but rest, not even to scavenge for food. If he was going to get home in time, he wasn't going to stop for anything. Other orphans started waking up, staring at Linebeck as he passed. He'd noticed that a lot of orphans often thought that Linebeck was older than he was, a few assuming he was already 18 years old. Sometimes he could use that to his advantage, but not with other adults of the city.
It was another dreary day, but it at least wasn't snowing. Linebeck loosened his scarf slightly and felt a slight twinge of nostalgia. Hadn't he found this scarf in the same area of time as he met Link? Yeah, he was running from that gang and hid under a shelter, finding the scarf and using it to hide. And about an hour after that, he found Link. That was maybe three months ago. Weird how quickly things can change.
Linebeck passed many phantom patrol groups, but they barely noticed him. A few glanced over at him but didn't linger. Bellum had probably made sure that they knew that he was no longer an issue on the streets. Since the beginning of the four years, Linebeck had been aware that Bellum had been manipulating things behind the scenes, keeping phantom groups from bothering him, keeping an eye on him, and interfering in a way so that other would think that it was a convenient coincidence.
Had Link not been there in the factory, Bellum would've probably comforted Linebeck more, rather than curtly fixing his arm and shooing them away. They'd talked occasionally, but it had always been tense. After he left, Linebeck had seen how badly Bellum was doing, stumbling around aimlessly and snapping at everyone, not getting back into the swing of things until three months afterwards.
Linebeck paused at a line of trash cans, peering in and poking open a few bags on the ground. There seemed to be less food trash in the winter months. There were lots more fights over food scraps when they were found. Linebeck was able to avoid fights simply by stocking up on money or avoiding others, or just stealing. It took him around two years to perfect his pickpocketing skills, and it had come in handy many times.
Feeling a strange surge of motivation, Linebeck fell into a jog. By now, Link had probably read the note and showed it to everyone. Hopefully, they would meet up at Bellum's mansion at some point. Linebeck himself planned to reunite with his adoptive father, tell him about Tetra's plan, and stay home. There was a chance that Link would try and stay with them when he showed up. That gave Linebeck even more motivation.
He found himself surprisingly cheery. The thought of seeing his dad again made him hopeful and excited to return home, and the idea that Link might join them made things even better. Even the idea that Tetra's group might be trying to attack Bellum didn't smother his happiness. He didn't even snap at the kid that stumbled into him, mostly ignoring them.
He remained in the alleyways for most of the first day, his exhausted legs forcing him to stop many times. Linebeck sat against the wall later in the afternoon, sitting in one of the alleyway squares. He had occupied himself with memories and hopeful thoughts and had forgotten about his thirst. His hunger could wait. Linebeck pulled out the water bottle, staring at the contents. Half of the bottle was full, so that would be enough for now and later that night. Linebeck gulped down most of it, leaving about half an inch of water left inside.
He sat for about an hour longer, watching birds, passing kids and animals, and the clouds up ahead. Once satisfied, Linebeck got back on his tired feet and continued on. The longer he walked through the night, the more he became aware of the ache in his heels and knees from his constant walking. He was pushing himself hard but wanted so desperately to get back home as fast as possible, even if it meant bleeding into his socks. As it was now, he was sure that his feet weren't bleeding yet.
The moon was high above Linebeck when he stopped, shaking and tired. With a yawn that forced tears in the corners of his eyes, Linebeck laid in the snow. Perhaps he could sleep just a little bit. He had been walking for over twelve hours. He deserved a small nap. Hopefully, he'd wake early in the morning, and not oversleep.
As he wished, Linebeck woke up early in the morning, but was paranoid about what day it was. He had no way of telling the date, only the time. Hoping that it was the next day, Linebeck set back out on his quest to return home. He didn't recall any dreams.
The fear of running into one of the gangs infected his thoughts early on. He made of point of paying much more attention to his surroundings, avoiding larger groups of adults and other urchins. Linebeck felt his hunger gnawing away at his insides and recalled the fact that he had around one hundred rupees with him. He could totally buy himself some breakfast. Now he just needed to find an orphan-friendly restaurant. One without a rather rude sign in front of it.
It took a much longer time than Linebeck would've preferred to find a good place. Eventually, damn near noon, Linebeck found a small little shop and pushed the door open, flinching at the jangling of the little bell above the door. He stared owlishly at the swaying bell until someone asked, "Are you gonna eat here, son?"
Linebeck whipped around, half-glaring half-staring at the man who had spoken. He nodded silently and peered around the room. It was small and dim, but almost homey. A doorway led back to what Linebeck assumed was a kitchen. The man spoke again. "You should go and take a seat. I'll bring you a menu if you want, providing you can pay for whatever you get." Linebeck nodded, glancing around once more and sitting at the table by the window.
The menu was small, mostly just breakfast foods. It was cheap, but it all sounded more or less good. Linebeck counted out the right amount of money, quietly ordering eggs and sausage, shifting closer to the window as more people entered. The man took his order and his twenty-five rupees, and Linebeck leaned against the wall. He watched the people that passed on the streets. Linebeck hadn't wanted to venture out onto the streets, but it was easier to find places to eat that way.
The food came out quickly, warm. Linebeck nodded, muttering a subtle 'thanks.' He ate in silence, occasionally looking over at the two other people in the building. A teenaged woman sat on the opposite side of the room, and a person with a hood over their features sat in the corner. He ate while staring out the window, glancing around every few seconds. It seemed like the man was the owner of this little place, a younger man looking to be the cook. The younger man had shown up a bit ago, and the two of them seemed to be talking at the front. It wasn't hard for Linebeck to hear what they were saying.
"...worrying. It's nice to help them, but there's so many of them."
The younger man nodded. "Yeah. Were the orphans around on the streets when you were a kid?"
The older man shrugged, glancing at Linebeck for a moment. The boy turned away just in time, then looked back when no one was looking at him. "It's been like this for a long time. I've been hoping that people start a petition to help them, or that one of the city leaders does something. I know that Zelda's tried a few times but hasn't gotten support from the others. Ganondorf just doesn't care about much other than doing his job."
The younger man nodded, then asked, "Do you think Bellum cares about helping?"
The older man laughed harshly. "I doubt our dear Warden even has a heart."
Linebeck lost his appetite but had at least finished most of his food. He slid off the chair and left the restaurant quickly, slamming the door behind him and regretting it moments later. It wasn't like he was yelled at for it, it just implied that he was angry with that they said. He was, but he didn't need them knowing that. He trudged through the snow for the next few hours, stopping at the sun started going down. It was a good thing that he got a proper meal. It helped him walk a bit longer.
He rummaged through the messenger bag and then his coat pockets, holding out his heirloom knife. The gems glittered in the later afternoon sunlight. He'd never actually used it like a key. Inspecting it, Linebeck wondered if Bellum had ever used it like the skeleton key that it was. Perhaps he was the one who enchanted it or had commissioned someone. But he certainly knew how to use it.
Working as the Warden and the leader of the city's law-enforcers must've required his adoptive dad to get some locked doors opened. Perhaps he even used it for a weapon. But it was definitely useful. The more he thought about it, the prouder Linebeck felt about inheriting it. At the least, he had used it as a way to better survive and had retaken it when it was taken. It was his, and no one was going to take it. Never again.
Putting the knife back where it belonged in his pocket, Linebeck stood back up, straightening his wrinkled and dirty coat. Bellum's schedule, Bellum's schedule, his dad's schedule... He'd be near the prison tonight. He did rounds for about an hour, around the prison. If he was lucky, Linebeck would run into him in the hour that he was circling the prison. Yeah, that would be his plan.
Linebeck continued through the alleyways, now heading through streets as shortcuts. He only checked the map a few times, but seemed to instinctively know where to go, what to do. A few people looked at him, a few adults staring, but he was used to it. Adults always stared at the urchins; other orphans were always wary when others of their kind went near. Linebeck now felt simple determination to go home. Nothing else. Aside from thoughts of returning, thoughts of Link surfaced in his mind.
The kid. His little brother. They were going to meet again, right? They'd better. Link practically kept him in line and made things better. He'd most likely been broken up when he discovered that Linebeck had left, but that would also lead him to try and meet him again. If he didn't Linebeck was going to try his best to track him down.
Night fell faster than he expected, and Linebeck realized just how cold he was when he tripped and fell face-first into the deep snow. The snow seeped into his clothes and melted nearly instantly, soaking Linebeck to his skin. Shivering almost painfully, Linebeck picked himself back up, teeth chattering. How had he not noticed how cold he was? It hurt. He was shivering violently, but still pushed himself on. If he got home, he'd be warm. Yeah. That's what he needed.
Another hour, then another. He couldn't be too far from the prison now. Linebeck turned a corner, hoping for some luck, and almost screamed in relief. The prison, in all its intimidating glory. Bellum was nowhere to be seen, but it was the hour of his patrol time. Linebeck, still shivering and miserable, walked out from the alleyway up to the dark building, looking for Bellum. He was tempted to call out, but that could catch the attention of undesirables.
Shivering and waiting, Linebeck glanced side to side for a few minutes before seeing a tall, slim figure turn the corner. They stared at it each other. It was too dark to see what they looked like, but Linebeck stumbled forward a bit, and the closer he got, the more he could see. Finally. Feeling like a small child, Linebeck stopped, trembling now from more than the cold. "...Dad?" His voice cracked.
Bellum went still, tilting his head to the side. "...Linebeck? Wh-what are you doing here? I-I..." He seemed unsure of what to say, looking around.
Linebeck stumbled forward a bit, feeling tears welling up in the corners of his eyes. "Dad? Dad, I wanna go home." He hugged himself tightly. Bellum blinked, walking closer. Linebeck took in a shaky inhale. "P-please? I-I'm sorry, I was so stupid, so, so goddamn stupid, I'm so sorry, I just wanna go home, I-I miss you..."
Tears were streaming down his face now. He was sobbing from the regret and guilt of leaving, the stuff he'd endured in the streets, the dread that he couldn't go home, and when Bellum kneeled down and tightly embraced him, he found himself sobbing from the relief and bliss of going home. Linebeck wept into Bellum's shoulder, hugging him back, stumbling through apologies and stories while his dad gently stroked his hair, murmuring to him.
Once he calmed down enough, Linebeck took another shaky inhale, pulling back slightly. Bellum was smiling weakly but had tears of his own in his eyes. "Hey, hey. Calm down, ok? I missed you too, I missed you too. It's been awful seeing you and not being able to talk with you properly." He brushed away his tears. "Yes, you can go home if you want. It's so cold tonight... you're shaking and sopping wet." Bellum's hands rest on Linebeck's shoulders, looking him over. "Let's go home, ok? I can skip this shift. You're going to freeze to death out here."
Linebeck nodded, rubbing away his own tears and allowing his dad to pick him up in his arms without a protest. He shifted and wrapped his arms around Bellum's neck, nuzzling into his shoulder. "It's so cold," he whispered. "I wanna go home and sleep in front of the fireplace tonight. Can I do that?"
"Yeah. That'd be a good idea," Bellum murmured as a response, walking through the dark streets. "We should talk."
Linebeck nodded, then muttered, "I've got some pictures. I picked up some pictures that I've taken while out here. I wanna show them to you. You might like them. I-I remembered that you took pictures of me every year, so I did it for you. And I took more pictures. I've got pictures of Link, too. Can we-"
Bellum shushed him. "Hey, just be quiet, ok? You're tired enough."
Linebeck nodded, then softly said, "Can I fall asleep?" His talking was staring to be slurred, and he noticed that his breathing was shallow. "Hey, uh, Dad?"
"Mhm? What is it?"
"I think I might be sick. W-what do you think?"
"Yeah, you're sleeping in front of the fireplace," Bellum murmured, turning a corner and seeing the mansion. "Try not to fall asleep, ok?"
"Mmmmhm... mmmmkay."
