As promised, here it is. Trigger warnings for this chapter that I mentioned in the very beginning. I tried to handle it as well as I could, so here you are.

Disclaimer: I don't own any part of the Legend of Zelda. All other original characters belong to me.

The Sheikah

Chapter Thirty-Seven: Stolen

"Go back to the desert where you belong, filthy curs!"

This and many other bellowed insults like it was what greeted the small contingent of Sheikah as they finally, after the weeks they'd been travelling, came upon Castle Town.

The first time the grand city had come into view, it was a strange site for all of them. The dark-stoned castle stuck out from the green land around it like a sword thrust into the ground, and the massive city sprawled around it on all sides. The sparkling river flowing before the city acted as just another barrier between them and the Sheikahs' freedom. Link thought to himself that the city of Castle Town had never looked so imposing. The city had always, in his mind, been a bit of a prison. When he'd lived there, he'd not been allowed to leave the city walls, and the one time he'd ventured outside them, he'd paid for it dearly.

But none of the Sheikah had been expecting the wall of civilians standing in a receiving line as they arrived, hurling insults and nasty words at them. Link was honestly surprised that the king was allowing this. If any of the men turned their shouting into violence, it could spark a fight. With civilians. The Sheikah would be accused for attacking them, and then there really would be a battle. Besides that, all the commotion was making the horses nervous, and many of them were stamping their feet and refusing to go any further. Link had handed off Epona to someone else about an hour ago, but now he found himself fearful for her. She had always been a little too spirited for her own good.

One thing Link was thankful for at that moment was his yellow hair, for it allowed him to more or less blend in with the rest of the contingent. They were only a few hundred feet away from where the rest of the Sheikah were camped, just to the east of the city. Neither Luca nor Davin could enjoy the same assurance as he; however, as they both sported dark, almost black hair. They had received a blessing from Fen to come in a few hours behind them and stay in the city. Everyone understood their reason for wanting it that way. The two supported the Sheikah, yes, but the battle—if there was to be one—wasn't theirs to fight. Sheik had pleaded with Link to go with them, but he had refused. His place was beside the person he loved, and with the people who had changed so much of his life for the better.

Sheik had him close to him now; bearing him against his side as the angry Hylians jeered and kicked dirt in their faces. Link was grateful the snow had melted, so that it was only dirt being stirred up into the air. Through it all, each and every one of the Sheikah marching in kept their heads held high, refusing to make eye contact with any of the aggressors.

But if Link were to say he wasn't afraid, he would be lying.

Sheik seemed to notice his anxiousness, for he pulled him closer, nestling Link safely under his arm, his traveling cloak going around both of them. "It'll be alright, nalí, he murmured. "They will not dare touch us."

"How can you be sure?" Link murmured back, casting an unsure glance up at his face.

"Because if any of them so much as touches us, it will start a battle. They know that. I do not think any of them will be so foolish."

"But they're looking at us like they're going to tear our heads off. Who's to say they won't? They haven't exactly shown any perfect foresight in the past."

"Common sense, I hope," Sheik replied. "Or perhaps they're angry to see you among us, if any of the have recognized you for what you are. It must look as if you have betrayed them, after all."

"But they are wrong. I am ashamed to call myself the same race."

"They don't think that. To them, we are subordinates who are not keeping in our own place."

"Had any of them been through what your people have in the last few months, let alone the last few centuries, perhaps they would be more respectful," Link muttered.

"Perhaps," Sheik agreed, and Link left it at that.

As they neared the bigger cluster of Sheikah, a large group of Hylian solders rode out of the city and dissipated the Hylian civilians, herding them back inside the gate. A silent but noticeable sigh of relief went up from the entire group as several of their own kind rode out from the clustered camp to greet them. "Kyla-näba," Sheik whispered in his ear, "And Osidian- näba, and some of the warriors," he explained.

"Will they be alright with me here?" Link asked in a hesitant voice, glancing up at Sheik's stoic face again, seeking some form of assurance.

"They will when they learn why," Sheik answered simply, leading him on until the Sheikah riding out to greet them stopped their mounts at the front of the group. Several Sheikahn words were exchanged between the two clan chiefs and Fen, who had been the leader of their small group.

"What are they saying?" Link whispered, but Sheik merely shook his head, his crimson eyes not leaving the exchange of words happening at the front. Link got the feeling that he wasn't supposed to be speaking while those at the front were.

After several minutes, and what seemed out of nowhere, they all began moving again towards the camp. Link sighed in relief. The moment had seemed oddly tense, he thought, as he fell in step again beside Sheik. They were no longer touching—the threat of the Hylians having gone now—but Link was content with being apart for now. He could feel Sheik's strength and resolve beside him, and that was enough. More than enough.

When they entered into the camp, the entire group of Sheikah dissipated, though Fen and Torren's father, Gilan, followed the two clan chiefs that had rode out to greet them further into the camp. Sheik took his hand and silently led him away from all the others, over to where a few Sheikah were sitting around a fire.

"What are we doing?" Link asked, sitting down beside Sheik, who was rubbing his left shoulder again with a look of discomfort on his face.

"The chiefs will gather with Fen and Gilan, and then I suspect once the entire story of our journey is told, they will call you to them. We might as well rest until then."

"Will they kick me out?" Link asked with a touch of fear.

Sheik turned to look at him, his face and entire stance, really, spoke of a weariness that someone of his age should not have to feel. "I do not think so, Link, but if they do, I will follow after you. You'll not ever be alone, I swear it."

The few Sheikah sitting around the fire had all turned their heads to watch the two of them as they talked. Link had no idea whether or not they could understand what Sheik and he were saying, but they all looked slightly suspicious. "Naj ös i Hylian?" One of them spoke up.

Sheik's eyes lifted dangerously to meet the one who had spoken. His lightheartedness of a few days ago had all but vanished as the weight of what may very well happen had begun to settle in on his shoulders. "Naj ös menian lo hai, attí tife forth lohaliaüt."

The Sheikah around the fire looked at each other without conviction in regard to whatever Sheik had said, but the one who had spoken out nodded to him, and they all fell silent once again. Still, Sheik grabbed Link's arm and pulled him closer, his eyes dark and predatory. Link had never, ever felt so small.

Roughly ten minutes later, a voice called out to them from behind. "Sheik." They both turned to see Torren standing there, his usual childish and spunky manner completely gone, replaced with a hollow-eyed, serious conviction, not unlike Sheik; not unlike every other Sheikah in the camp. Sheik watched his best friend with unsure eyes. Everything was unsure now, and although they, as a people, seemed to stand in a good position over the Hylians, the world just seemed darker. "Ganor Link," Torren said softly, barely managing to crack a smile.

Sheik nodded and quietly rose from the ground, grabbing Link's hand and towing him along behind as he followed Torren. Tor brought them to a large tent, gesturing for them to enter.

Without pausing, Sheik pulled Link inside, and before Link could blink an eye, he was standing before nine Sheikah, all who were staring down at him as if he were the greatest—and most troubling—mystery they had ever encountered.

"Sheik?" Fen spoke up from the edge of the tent. Link looked over at him. He was standing with Gilan, looking somber. Fen nodded to Sheik, and without any hesitation, Sheik stepped forward, leaving Link behind him as he faced the clan chiefs.

Link's eyes fell on Fen as Sheik began speaking in an urgent voice. Link couldn't even focus on the way Sheik's lips and tongue were forming those impossible-sounding words, he was so worried. But Fen smiled softly at him, nodding his head, and a wave of relief surged through Link, so much that he sagged with the reassurance.

They all talked for a few minutes more as he stood there, only able to pick out a few words from the conversation, 'nalí' being among them.

After the talking was done, they let Sheik and him leave the tent without trouble. Sheik whispered to him they he could stay, and that they had believed all that Sheik had told them, but the encounter still left Link with a funny feeling.

"Link?"

Link glanced up from his storybook with an irritated sniff. He could never do anything he liked to do with this goddesses-darned family of his. If it wasn't his mother calling him for chores, it was his father shouting at him for sitting around and reading all day. They would never just leave him be to enjoy what he loved doing.

"Link, baby, where are you?!" It was his mother. What on earth could be so wrong? Link sat up off the bed.

"What, mom? I'm in here!" Link set his book down on the bed, spine up, feeling uneasy, and not being able to explain to himself why.

Link's mother burst in through the door of their tiny room, her face stained with tears. "Mom?" he asked quietly, spooked by her frantic state.

"Link, I want you to listen to me and do exactly as I say. You are not to argue with me, am I understood?" she said, her voice strong despite her shaken, fearful state.

Link's brow knitted together on his forehead. What was going on? Had he done something wrong? "Mom?"

"Shhh!" She hissed, grabbing his shirt and forcefully pulling him off the bed. "You get under there right now, and you don't come out for anybody, am I understood? Don't you even make a noise." She pulled him down until they were both on their knees, and then she was shoving him underneath the bed, casting fearful glances out the window above the bed the entire time. Her rough handling almost hurt, but Link was so surprised, so... so baffled by what was suddenly going on inside his tiny room, in his tiny life, that he just let it all happen blindly, not making a fuss. His mother stood up. He knew she had to have gone bonkers. Perhaps she'd finally let the rumors of the men from outside of Hyrule get to her. They'd heard of other villages being ripped apart, but Link's father had told them all that this was their home and that they weren't leaving for a bunch of brutes. Half the village had gone, so Link knew something had must be happening in the forest, but he hadn't given it much thought, because he—

Out of nowhere, there were heavy footsteps in the room. Link's mouth snapped shut from whatever protest he'd been about to make. Out from under the bed, he could see many pairs of feet enter the room. Dirty feet. Big, heavy boots. If Link had of come storming into the house like that, tracking mud everywhere, his father would have smacked him right upside the back of the head.

Link held his breath, slamming his hands over his ears so that he couldn't hear the words being spoken by the men who had come into their house. Just the sound of their voices frightened him. He didn't want to hear whatever words they were uttering. All he heard was their low pitched aggression, and his mother's high pitched fear.

And then there was a heavy weight above him on the bed, and his mother's feet disappeared from his view. Link looked down at the floor immediately, squeezing his eyes shut and pressing his hands tighter over his ears. He wasn't there, he wasn't hiding under that bed; he was out in the forest, running through the trees, pretending he was on some great adventure—

The bottom of the mattress sagged down to touch the top of his head, and he began to hear screaming. The book he had been reading only moments before dropped to the floor, and Link prayed that none of the men would bend over to pick it up, because then they would see him.

No, no, no screaming, because he was running through leaf-dappled sunlight, and everything was new, and fresh. It was the first day of summer, his favorite day of the year, and later, he and Jasten and Davin would probably go swimming down in the creek, once they finished their work, and—

The bed actually moved on the floor, skidding several inches to the right. Link held his breath and wriggled with it, praying they hadn't seen any flash of his clothing. He still didn't even really understand what was going on. Where was his father to put a stop to all this? Another shrill scream pierced his ears, a scream that could have only belonged to his mom. Link buried his head into the floor again, recessing back into his own world, trying not to hear everything that was going on. He definitely wasn't hearing any of the screaming, or whimpering, or grunting, or the raucous laughter coming from the other side of the room.

No, he was off and away, in some faraway place, sword fighting, and finding treasure, and making friends, and, and...

Link's picked his head back up. He wasn't sure how much time had passed since he had recessed into his mind, but he couldn't hear anything. He looked up, towards the side of the bed where his mother had stuffed him under. Link swallowed, staring. His mother's hand, calloused and worn down from all the hard work she'd done in her life, was hanging from the side of the bed, wrist limp and... Just… hanging there.

Slowly, Link wriggled out from under the bed, his mother's cold fingers grazing the top of his head as he passed under her hand. He rolled over, bracing himself up on his elbows as he stared at the bed where his brothers and he had slept for as long as he could remember.

Link wasn't stupid. He knew what had happened.

He stood up, leaning over the bed and doing his best to lift his mother off of the rumpled covers. He tried his hardest to keep her off the ground, but even her slight weight was too much for him, and he went staggering backwards, her body landing over his with a soft thud.

Completely scared out of his wits, Link struggled out from under her, scooting away from her body as fast as he could, breathing hard and just staring. Because his life was over. There, on the ground, his mother, the very light of his life, lying there, face down and lifeless, her skirts rumpled up around her hips.

He didn't realize he was crying until fat, heavy tears fell on the wood before him. He crawled over to her, pulling her skirts back down around her and using his shaking fingers to close her pretty blue eyes.

He lifted her shoulders into his lap, hugging her waist, and just wept for what felt like hours, but could only have been minutes.

He wasn't even half aware of his surroundings when his father came blasting into the room and saw him there, clutching onto his mom like an infant. He cried harder when he was lifted away and carried out of the room. For the first time in his life, he cradled himself into his father's chest, bawling like his world had ended. And it had, it had completely ended. It was—

Link picked his head up off the rough mat that was substituting for a pillow. Where was—? They had fallen asleep together, snuggled up tight against the winter night, but now there was no arm thrown over him. He was alone, and chilly.

"Sheik?" he said blearily, wiping the sleep from his eyes. It was still pitch black in the tent. He couldn't see a thing. But he could hear things. Link cocked his head as sounds and disturbances came from outside the canvas walls. There was shouting, and banging... and things just didn't sound right. They didn't feel right.

"Sheik?" he called again, louder this time. His heart was already beating fast from his nightmare, but he couldn't feel Sheik, and he couldn't see him, and something was definitely wrong. He was starting to feel frantic. "Sheik!"

"Shh, Link! I'm here!" Sheik's voice came from near the entrance, where he was crouched in front of the flap, looking out.

"What's going on?" Link whispered, sitting up.

Sheik glanced back at him for a swift second, his face plastered with concentration. "The camp's been attacked." He turned back to watch the outside.

Link gasped. "The soldiers?"

Link could barely see Sheik shake his head in the moonlight leaking through the cracked tent flap. He could just spot some shadows and shapes running by in the darkness in front of their tent, bellowing and screaming and roaring up what was now becoming a continuation of his nightmare. "No, it's some sort of guerilla force. I have no idea how many of them there are. I woke up when I heard a scream, and then the camp just exploded."

"Well—well, come away from the entrance!" Link whispered, beckoning to Sheik. "They'll see you!"

"Link," Sheik said.

Panic rose inside of him. "No, Sheik, you can't fight them! You're not strong enough!"

"Link," Sheik repeated, turning around and crawling back over to him. "I want you to do exactly as I say, alright? And I don't want you to argue with me. Just listen. This is for your safety."

The words sounded sickeningly familiar to Link. "Sheik?" he whispered, fear threatening to break him.

"Hey," Sheik said gently, using his hand to cradle the back of Link's head, kissing him briefly. "It's alright." The calm resolve in his voice was scaring Link. He couldn't see his expression in the darkness, but his eyes were glassy. "Keep in here, alright? I don't want you to make a single noise, and I don't want you to come out there looking for me."

"Sheik, no, you're not going—"

"Shhh," Sheik whispered. "Just... hide under the blankets, alright? Don't come out for anyone."

Link grabbed at Sheik's clothes as he began to pull away. "Sheik, no! You're going to get hurt! You're not like them anymore, you can't fight like you used to! You will someday, but not today! You can't!"

"Link, stop it!" Sheik hissed, prying Link's hands away and pushing him back. "Please, for me, don't argue. Just hide."

Link watched helplessly, not knowing what to do, as Sheik pulled a small silver knife out of his belt and disappeared through the tent flaps without even a look back.

Link began to pull the covers over his head like Sheik had said, but then he stopped. No. No, he wasn't about to let this happen again.

He was done being a coward.

Link flipped off the blankets and pulled his Sheikahn-made cloak tight around him, creeping to the entrance of the tent. He couldn't see anything outside. All the noises and shouts were coming from a few rows of tents over. Link ran out, grabbing the knife from his pack that Sheik had given him so long ago. He followed the line of tents in the direction he thought Sheik had gone. Ahead of him, he could see shadows running across the grassy area where one of the fire pits lay. "I saw one running around over this way!" someone ahead shouted.

"Come on!" hissed another. Link thought there were maybe three of them up ahead.

"Wait!" another said, and the shadow of him turned to face in Link's direction. Link froze.

"That way is emptied!" one cried impatiently, and his shadow tugged on the other one, pulling him away. "I saw something move over here!"

They all ran off, and before more than a couple seconds had gone by, Link heard shouting from their direction. He moved towards them, rounding the corner near the fire pit, following in their footsteps.

There were scuffles ahead, a fight breaking out. "Pin him down!" One of the men ordered the others.

"Got 'im! Damn fucking goddesses, hold still!"

"He's a cripple, you goddesses-damned idiot! He can't be that hard to hold down!"

"I'm going to teach him a lesson! Hand me that knife!"

Through all this, Link could hear the sounds of Sheik struggling and shouting Sheikahn curses at them. Link had tried to tell him that he wasn't ready to fight like he used to, but he hadn't been willing to listen—

Sheik started screaming. Not angry screams, but pained, anguished screams.

Link didn't give himself time to think. He shot out ahead towards the group of shadows that he could barely see. They all turned towards him, but none of them had any time to react as Link threw himself over one, knocking him off of his feet. He lashed out with his small silver knife, screaming at the top of his lungs, because how dare they?!

The man beneath him managed to throw him off after Link had cut him, but the stupid coward flew off running, abandoning his companions instead of turning back and attacking Link. Link didn't care; he didn't have time to sneer at the man's cowardly actions. A pair of strong arms ripped him off of the ground and turned him over, big hands going around his throat. Link struggled against him, kicking out with his knee right into the man's stomach, and when that disarmed him, he kicked him again in his groin. The second man collapsed over to the side, incapacitated.

That left only one man still holding down Sheik. Link turned and threw himself at this one as well, knocking him off balance and into the grass. Link couldn't see past the scuffle he was in, but he hoped Sheik had gotten up.

The large man he was fighting managed to knock Link's knife away, but it hardly mattered. Link had other means. He clamped his teeth down hard around the man's shoulder, biting down like a viper, kicking and scratching and punching wherever he could get purchase. A hand squeezed his shoulder, pulling at him. Link thought it was the man he had just kicked in the groin, so he bit down harder and kicked out behind him.

"Link!" The hand was under his arm now, pulling at him. And with that touch from behind, Link understood. He released his hold on the man and went stumbling back into the grass, landing on his side. Sheik moved past him and bent over the man. Link saw a glint of silver in his hand. He wasn't quite sure what Sheik was doing, but there was a jerk of his arm, and then the man screamed, pushing past Sheik and running away into the night, back towards the city. His companion followed directly after him.

Sheik's figure rose slowly and turned towards him. Link felt very small, crumpled and sore on the ground with Sheik approaching him, so tall and imposing.

Link blinked away his fearful tears, worried that Sheik would be angry with him for not listening. "Sh-Sheik," he whimpered, completely shaken. "I'm sorry! I know you said to—but I couldn't! It all happened like that before, with everything you said. With everything she said, and I couldn't let you go without—"

Link crouched down next to him and pulled him into a one-armed hug, pressing their chests together. "Shh," he whispered, kissing Link's cheek. "Link, lalu, you just saved my life. You have nothing to be sorry for." He was laughing, cuddling Link's face to his with his one hand, touching their foreheads. "Nothing," he repeated. "Thank you."

"What's going on around here?" Link sniffled, wiping at his eyes. "What happened?"

"From what I can tell, a bunch of men snuck out of the city and invaded the camp. I'm not sure if anyone's hurt or not, although I don't see how they couldn't be. They would have had to get the jump on the sentries, and quietly, too, otherwise they would have woken everyone up. I'm honestly surprised the horses didn't make any noise."

"They woke you up," Link replied.

"I only woke when I heard screaming," Sheik answered, lifting his head from Link's and looking around. "We need to find Fen, or at least Torren. I need to make sure they're both safe. Come on." He stood, pulling on Link's arm.

"Sheik," Link pulled back once he was on his feet, peering at the older boy. He wiped a hand over a shallow cut on his neck, his hand coming away red. "You're bleeding."

"I know," Sheik replied solemnly. "They tried to cut my throat before you came along."

Link didn't even have time to be thankful that he'd made the right decision in following Sheik as was pulled along. It was clear that Sheik was in a state of movement. They travelled along in the darkness to where the clamor of fighting had finally died down. The camp was growing quiet again.

Several dark figures rushed past them, nearly knocking them flat onto their backs. The figures didn't stop as they high-tailed it out of the camp, no doubt heading back to the city. Sheik cursed loudly at them and pulled Link along further. \

They turned a corner along a line of tents, revealing a mass of Sheikah standing in the clearing between tents. This was where it had begun; Link just had a feeling from the sheer amount of people gathered here.

"Fen?" Sheik called out, his voice almost frantic. His grip on Link's hand tightened painfully, but Link didn't care. He squeezed back. "Fen!" Sheik cried, entering into the thick mass of Sheikah. None of them seemed to be moving, aside from those who rushed in to join the mass.

"Sheik?" Link looked up and could just make out the features of Fen as he ran to them, pulling Sheik into a rough hug, nearly lifting him off the ground. "Sheik, loka twi garnahlias thos fara lune nomat."

"Fen, is anyone hurt?" Sheik asked.

Fen only shook his head. "I do not know. I myself was fighting until now, when I ran here. I've only just arrived." He turned to look down at Link, and before Link could know what had happened, he was wrapped up in Fen's arms, just as Sheik had been a moment ago. "I am glad also that you are not harmed, Link. You are my family now, just as Sheik is. I could not bear to see harm come to either one of you."

Link could barely stutter out a reply. "Th—thank you."

Fen nodded before turning and making his way into the crowd, shouting at the top of his lungs. Fen had been given command of the contingent that went to Termina, so he now commanded a certain authority over the others, even if he bore no specific title.

"I don't know what to do," Sheik said helplessly. Link looked up at him. It was true, Sheik had never before looked like he did know. Link had seen him angry, and he had seen him protective, and sad, but there were no words for the way he looked now.

"I don't think anyone does," Link answered very quietly.

After a few more minutes, as more and more of the camp started arriving, wails of anguish erupted into the night.

"Oh no..." Link whispered, trying to stretch up on his toes to see into the mass of Sheikah as the first flecks of a red dawn lit up the sky.

"Goddesses, no." Sheik hung his head next to him.

An hour later, and the sky was nearly all the way light. Link found himself beside Sheik, wrapped up in each other's cloaks, and huddled against the chill near a fire. He must have dozed off. Many other Sheikah ringed the fire around them, all silent. The entire camp was silent, apart from the occasional scream of pain or loud wail that carried over to them from the other side of the camp. Link knew that some had died; everyone knew it. So much wrong and unfairness happened in the world; Link had learned that more than a year ago when his life had been ripped out of his hands. Ever since that day, life just kept beating him down. The only brightness he'd been shown had been meeting Sheik and starting to build a life with him; but that too had been stolen from him, by the greedy hands of this bloody war. It just kept taking and taking.

"Sheik." Everyone at the fire turned to look up at the approaching figure of Fen. The morning was rather misty, and a fog lay heavy on the ground; Link couldn't clearly make out his figure until he was standing only five feet away.

"Fen?" Sheik whispered back, his face held close to Link's.

"Come," he said simply, beckoning to him.

Link could practically feel the fear and tension rolling off of Sheik's body as he rose, pulling Link along beside him as he followed in Fen's silent footsteps. Sheik hadn't let go of Link's hand yet. There was no speaking as Fen led them through the camp, back to the area where, before dawn had come, nearly half the camp had been gathered. The starting point of all this. The epicenter.

They had to push past an enormous cluster of Sheikah who were crowded around the entrance to the same large tent that Link had been brought to just yesterday, where all the clan leaders had stood to judge him. As they pushed through the entrance, the atmosphere became ten times heavier. Link could feel it dragging on his limbs, trying to pull him down; he had to rely on Sheik's hand holding his to keep him moving. Otherwise he probably would have fallen to the ground right then and given himself over to weeping.

There were even more Sheikah inside the entrance to the tent. Link couldn't remember the canvas structure being this big. It had seemed small the day before, like a trap. When they finally pushed through to the front of the crowd, Link froze. He couldn't take another step.

Laid out on the ground in a neat line on heavy blankets were thirteen bodies. Each was surrounded by foods and soft fabrics and a scattering of a few wildflowers that Link was sure had only recently been collected for them. They would look peaceful, lying there with serene expressions and closed eyes, if not for the blood staining them. Link felt like he was going to be sick. One of his hands fell upon his stomach, while the other flew to his mouth, as if he could hold in what wanted to come out after seeing this site. It was then that he realized Sheik's hand had left his.

Sheik had moved completely, as well as Fen. It wasn't until Link's eyes followed the line of golden heads lying on the ground that he noticed the soft honeyed-brown one, lying there at the end. His vision went black for a moment, and when it returned, all he could do was stare at the people there, clustered beside the young boy. Gilan was holding his son's head in his lap, Fen standing behind him, and Sheik had kneeled down at his side with his head bowed so low that Link couldn't see him. Over Torren's corpse.

He felt a gentle push behind him, and turned to see Osidian, the chief of Sheik's clan standing behind him, looking grim. Link knew from the few times he'd spoken to this man that he didn't speak very good Hylian, but he talked to Link all the same. "Go on," he murmured, voice low, barely above a quiet rumble. Link didn't even know he was moving, but he surely seemed to be walking forward, because the line of bodies passed by him until he was standing near Torren's bare feet.

Link looked down. Sheik's hand was on his ankle, and he was being pulled down to kneel as well. Everything was moving at an other-worldly speed. Sheik was shifting him, cradling himself into Link's chest. Link's shirt was getting damp from Sheik's tears, but he couldn't bring himself to move; he couldn't stop staring at Torren's—Tor, as his friends and father had called him-face. All his muscles were relaxed. He could be sleeping, if it weren't for the bloodied white cloth wrapped around his throat.

Link's chest hurt. Torren was... had been... He'd been a beacon. A beacon of fucking happy, friendly light. The quirky, energetic brunette Sheikah who couldn't speak Hylian quite right, but had loved his friends, and his family. On their journey back up through Hyrule, Link had often sat and listened while Torren explained something of Sheikahn culture to him in an excited voice, fumbling over the unfamiliar words, or proudly listed out the long list of his brothers and sisters, and the much shorter list of all the girls he'd ever kissed, or even bragged about all the mischief he and Sheik had gotten into as kids. In the very short amount of time that Link had known Torren, he'd come to care for him a great deal. It was just plain wrong that this had happened; but of course, everyone here knew that. There was nothing Link could even say or do at that moment that hadn't already been said or done. He couldn't console Sheik; he couldn't kiss his tears away and whisper that everything was going to be all right very soon, because Link was quite sure there was no way anything could ever be all right ever again.

He knew how this felt, how losing someone so very close to you could break you. He hadn't been all the way all right ever since this had happened to his mother, and Link knew deep down that it had happened to his sister as well. Now it had happened to someone Sheik loved, and Link could do nothing but quietly understand what it was that Sheik must be feeling as he gripped onto Link, his entire body shaking with loud sobs, the kind that couldn't be stopped until they'd run themselves dry. Link could only hold back onto him with a dazed sort of strength, blinking away the tears that were pouring out of his own eyes, because Torren was good. Torren was young and bright and happy, and he shouldn't have had to die because of hate. He had friends and family, who loved him and needed him, and the men who had stolen his life because of hatred were no better than the barbarians who'd stolen Link's happiness from him so long ago; they were no better than devils.

The world seemed to have blurred around him, and it had been leeched of its color. All the Sheikah in the tent were a dull gray, while the dead and their mourners stood out in vibrant color. Link sat there, holding Sheik as he shook, and started at Torren's father, Gilan, who had fallen into Fen's arms. Strong, proud Gilan was letting Fen cradle him like a small child. Unlike Sheik, he was trying to form words, past the sharp gasping and sobbing that he couldn't hold back. Link knew little of Gilan, but even in the short time that he'd known him, he would never have pictured the proud Sheikah man like this: crumpled, completely defeated, and crushed into dust by the death of his eldest son whom he had taken with him to war.

Fen's lips were in Gilan's hair, and he was stroking his back, listening silently, not bothering to wipe the tears out of his own eyes, even as they were landing in Gilan's golden brown hair. Link had no idea what Gilan was saying, but he didn't think he had ever seen a man so miserable.

It seemed like a lifetime before Osidian was standing with them. His hand fell on the top of Link's head, an unknown and foreign touch, but Link relished the comforting feel of it all the same. He spoke softly in Hylian, barely above a whisper. "Torren-líta... was the one... the only one to have died from our clan this night. And he was too young to have been taken."

It was night again. Fires lit up the camp not with light, but with more shadows. The entire Sheikah army stood vigil at the front of the camp, where the thirteen bodies had been laid on blankets, amongst more food and flowers. Torches stood at the head of each one of them, illuminating their faces. Their bodies had been washed clean of blood and grime, and each one was dressed in fresh, clean clothes. They'd been brushed with oil that smelled of lavender; the strong, sharp smell too potent. It burned Link's nostrils as he sat on his knees beside Sheik.

Link had never experienced death like this, among a body of people where there were traditions to be carried out for the dead. Everyone, aside from the most severely wounded and a few of the healers stood vigil twenty feet back from the bodies. When Link had turned back to look at them, some of their heads had been bowed, while some of them were turned up towards the stars. Those who had been close to the ones who had died kneeled around their bodies, weeping and consoling each other. This would continue all through the night.

Gilan was sitting by his son's head while Fen stood silently behind him, still weeping, but being there for his friend rather than using the time to express his own grief. When they'd first marched out of the camp to start the vigil, Link had done as Fen, and stood behind Sheik, who sat on the other side of Torren's head. But Sheik had grabbed his hand and pulled him down to kneel beside him, and he hadn't let go since.

The five hundred Terminan soldiers had arrived in the late afternoon, and were camped right alongside them. Link had thought that King Nohansen would send soldiers out at the sight of them, but the city remained silent.

Before the vigil had started, Link had sat in a tent beside Sheik and Fen, listening as all the clan chiefs discussed what was to be done. It was clear that this group of men had been a guerrilla force, and not a planned attack by the king. Still, that didn't change its wrongness, or explain why it had been allowed to happen. It was agreed upon that the next day; the nine clan chiefs would enter into the city, each one of them with an advisor, and seek audience with the king. It was then that Link stood up bravely and asked to go along. He needed to see his brother. He needed to tell him and Luca what had happened. He needed to see family.

They chiefs had agreed to let him and Sheik into the city with them. Sheik would accompany his people into the king's court, while Link would stay behind and search for his brother. Link was surprised at their leniency, to be honest. He was tired, and drained, and hadn't really possessed the will or strength to argue if they had of refused him.

Link had even less strength now, as he was kneeling beside Torren. Sheik was no longer sobbing, but he kept on with a steady stream of tears, and every once in a while, he would shake violently and let out a choked gasp. Every time Link would look at him, he would see such misery in his face that he would start shaking himself, crying quietly, tears renewed.

Tor's face... like before, looked so peaceful. Now that all the blood was washed away, he really could be just... sleeping. Sleeping, and when he opened his eyes to a new day, he could see his people freed. He wouldn't see any more cruelty; only smiles and laughter as he grew older and found a girl whom he'd love deeper than any other person he'd ever met. He would marry her, and they would have as many children as his father and mother before him. It would be a happy life. Torren's wife would fall for him in an instant, drawn in by his playful attitude and odd knack for uttering occasional snippets of profound wisdom. They would have more brunette Sheikah children, with sparkling, happy red eyes. Their children would never have to be torn away from their families as Sheik had been when he was called to serve, because they would be a free people. Torren would have—

Another bout of shaking took hold of Sheik. Link just stopped thinking as he rested their intertwined hands on Sheik's thigh. It had been hours... the morning would arrive soon. Link hoped that with it, it would bring a day of peace.

Translations:

'Naj ös I Hylian?' = 'He is a Hylian?'

'Naj ös menian lo hai, attí tife forth lohaliüt.' = 'He is important to me, and can be trusted.'

'Ganor Link.' = 'Bring Link.'

'Sheik, loka twi garnahlias thos fara lune nomat.' = 'Sheik, thank the goddesses that you are alright!'