I've always felt, somewhere deep in my soul, that Link is the epitome of a womanizer.

I mean, come on. He's got da booty, das fer sure. And he's probably hella lonely travelling like that all the time.

And look at all dem ladies after him.

yoo~hoo linkipoooooooooo

I don't know maybe it's just me but I love imagining Link as this dude who's just going around like HEYY LADIES (AND/OR MEN IDEK) WASSUP NEED A HERO TO WARM YOU UP FOR THE NIGHT? EH?

-shrugs and crawls into a hole to sleep for ten years-

enjoy!

review plz! would love to hear your thoughts/predictions about the story so far!

xoxo

Chapter Thirty-Five

Reborn in Hatred

Snowhead Village was not at all the desolate, snow-ridden place that Link expected it to be. It was lively and exciting, as small as it was, with inhabitants that smiled when you passed them by. People in Castilia weren't like that, Link knew. They scowled or looked away in the streets. Not the villagers of Snowhead. They seemed to make it a point to make eye contact and smile at each person they saw. All wearing large, beautiful coats unlike anything Link had ever seen, with intricate patterns and tribal designs and impeccable stitching. Hylian men and women (maybe some half-Sheikah), adults and children, young and old, short and tall, wandered the streets. Some had huge, wild-looking dogs walking beside them, their tongues hanging out and their massive tails wagging. They all had similar features to Ashei, with pale skin and dark hair and rosy cheeks and almond-shaped eyes. What was strangest was that there were just as many Gorons living here as Hylians. They, too, wore their jackets and their scarves, their black eyes poking out from the fur. They carried wood from the nearby forest, meat, everything one might look for in a market. They smiled, too, nodding especially toward Vukan.

And absolutely everybody knew Ashei.

"Welcome back, Ashei! Nice trip up the mountain, huh?"

"Ashei, you look beautiful, dear—when are you gonna find a husband?"

"The boys are all heading out tonight for drinks. Join us, won't you, Ashei?"

Even the little children surrounded her as she walked, smiling up at her while she patted their heads.

"Ashei! Ashei! Did you go down the mountain? Did you see any bears? Or monsters? Tell us another story, Ashei! Please, please, please?"

"I'm a little busy right now, ya crazy mice. Maybe tomorrow, yeah?"

"Yeah!"

Link was not used to this. He couldn't even smile back at these people, he felt so out of place. He nodded, met their gazes, but wasn't really sure what else to do. Anowaika was immediately at home, waving and saying hello and bouncing on her heels. There were a few other Zoras there, too, as out of placed as they looked. Link glanced at her and saw how pale she was and realized she would need a body of water soon. Raazi was still comatose on Vukan's back, but Vukan seemed rather indifferent to the entire situation. He blinked in response to the passing Gorons that greeted him, some in his native Goro tongue. And, understandably, there were almost no Gerudos up here. Their blood and skin was not built for this cold. Some people looked at Raazi with gazes of awe. Like they had never even seen a Gerudo before.

"I love this place!" Ano breathed.

"We're all like a family here," Ashei said, leading them through the wide streets. "Everyone knows everyone, yeah? It's a small village, with a big heart."

"Everybody is so nice."

"Ya know, most ah the people here ain't ever left this place. Born here, raised here, got no idea what it's like outside the snow."

"Have you ever left Snowhead, Ashei?"

"When I was younger, my pa used ta take me out to nearby villages in the Hylian Plains. Never more 'an half a day away, yeah? That's 'bout it."

The people here, Link realized, were extraordinarily beautiful. There was something so pure, untouched about them. An innocence and a raw love hung in the air, and it seemed to draw everybody and everything closer together. He saw it in the eyes of the villagers and in the sparkles of the snow. As sore as his legs were and as cold as his nose was, there was something so undeniably warm about Snowhead Village. Maybe the laughter of the children, the excited barks of the dogs, the conversations between the people and the merchants in their markets and the old men and women leaning out of their windows to say hello. As strange as it all was to Link, the more he drank in his surroundings, the more at home he felt.

"My house is a little o'er that way—hey, Zora gal, there're some hot springs down this road. An ol' Zora man owns 'em, and the sweetheart'd probably let ya in for free if ya show him that smile ah yers."

"Oh, that's perfect! Just what I need. Why don't I meet you back at your house?"

"Sure thing. Ask anyone, they'll know where it is, yeah?"

Anowaika left them, bouncing through the snow in the direction Ashei had pointed, and the rest of them continued behind her. After a few minutes and a few turns in the road, they arrived in front of a large wooden house, not dissimilar to the cottage at the base of the mountain. Link was almost in shock when Ashei opened the door without a key, having left it unlocked. He would never be able to do that in Castilia.

They're real trusting here, aren't they?

Inside was similar to the cottage, too. There was a fireplace with simmering embers in the main room, and four other rooms that branched out. Two bedrooms, a bathroom, and a kitchen. Around the fireplace were large, furry chairs, and on the other side, a wooden table with chairs. But, after he got past the coziness of it all, he realized how messy it was. Though, if he was being honest, he hadn't expected Ashei to be the tidy type. There were clothes and jackets all over the place, dirty dishes on the tables, a strange smell coming from both the bathroom and the kitchen, and the pictographs on the walls were almost all crooked.

Link took his coat off and hung it with the others on a (apparently unused) coat hanger and aired his skin out while he looked at the pictographs. Almost every single one was of two people: Ashei and an older man with a pleasant expression on his face. He had white hair cut close to his scalp and a soft, inviting smile, and his eyes looked exactly like Ashei's. They always stood in similar positions; she with one arm against his shoulder, her other outstretched with a V-sign, and he with his hands on his hips.

Ashei lit the fire and told them to make themselves at home. Link helped Raazi out of her coat and scarf, and then he and Vukan walked her over to the fireplace. Ashei, an amused expression on her face, lit the embers while Raazi continued to shiver.

"Now ya know why Gerudos tend ta stay away, yeah?" she smirked. She handed Raazi a large quilt blanket, and then went into the kitchen. "Stew'll be ready soon enough."

It was almost nighttime, and Link realized that he was starving. He sat down on the floor beside Raazi, and let her curl up in his arms—searching for any type of heat she could find. Vukan had to sit on the ground, too, because not even her biggest chair could fit him. Only once he had sat down did he notice the giant mass of fur lying next to the fireplace. It lifted its head, and Link saw the biggest dog he had ever laid eyes upon. It had so much thick, black fur (amusingly matching Ashei's hair color) that he could hardly see its eyes. As soon as its gaze met Link's, it stood up, its tail beating against the floor.

"Hey, boy," Link said. He could never help it. Sometimes he felt more comfortable talking to animals than to people. "C'mere, big guy."

The dog walked over, sniffing and huffing and sticking its tail in the air. Its ears flopped down on its head and its entire body heaved with its breaths. Link reached out one of his hands, and the dog sniffed it.

"There's a good boy," he murmured. "There's a good boy."

The dog barked then, and began licking Link's hand and face. While he smiled, he felt Raazi shudder, and he remembered then that she wasn't a huge fan of animals.

"I see ya've met Meemo," Ashei said, walking in from the kitchen. "He's a big baby, he is. Seems he's taken a likin' ta ya, Link."

"Such a good boy," Link replied. More to the dog. "Such a good Meemo!"

"Pretty good with animals, yeah? Good on ya. Stew's ready. Who wants some?"

As tired as he was, Link knew he wasn't going to be able to sleep that night. He'd have the next day to sleep, anyway.

No use dealing with the nightmares tonight.

Raazi and Vukan slept in the guest bedroom, Anowaika had decided to spend the night at the hot springs, and Link offered to sleep on the chairs in the main room—knowing that he wasn't actually going to be sleeping. Instead, he sat on the floor, leaning against an armchair in the middle of the night, a giant Meemo resting his head in Link's lap while a lantern flickered on the table, tinkering with that mask. The one that Kafei had given him. It resembled the face of a human, with red markings around the eyes and on the cheek and a blue symbol on the forehead. White hair (he hoped was fake) stuck out from the top. The mouth of the mask was set in a straight line, and even without expression in its eyes, it looked so fierce and determined. He knew the face as that of Fierce Deity, after which he and Damita had named the mercenary group. It was a myth of an all-powerful warrior who could fell any monster with a single blow. Why Kafei had given him the mask, he didn't know.

Is there anything I do know?

"Can't sleep?"

Ashei wandered in from her bedroom, wearing black leggings and a white, long-sleeved t-shirt. Her hair was messy and her eyes were red, as if from exhaustion. But she was still, he mused, very pretty. Link shook his head and put the mask away. She sat down beside him, shoulder to shoulder, staring at the crackling fire.

"It seems like this is all new ta ya," she continued, stroking Meemo's sleeping head. "Like yer not really sure what yer doin."

"I'm not."

"Let it flow, yeah? Follow the hints ya got, let everythin' fall into its place. Ya've done a good job leadin' so far. It's a little embarrassin' but, truth is, I been dyin' ta meet ya."

"Dying to meet me?"

"Ya think we don't know what yer doin'?" she scoffed. She smiled up at him, winked. "I betcha every Fierce Deity out there, everybody ya don't know, looks up ta ya. Ya do amazin' things in the capital, yeah? Ya inspire us."

"Inspire you?"

"Hell yeah! I bet for some ah us, yer the reason we fight."

It was the first time he had ever heard anything like that. He had always led the Fierce Deities, that was true enough. But he had never imagined that his influence would spread so far.

Inspiring isn't the way I'd describe myself.

"Why do ya hate the queen, Link? What makes ya fight?" she asked. She leaned her head slightly against his shoulder, and he liked it.

"She's pure evil. Look at how she's polluted everything, everyone. We're all toys for her, not real people."

"Pure evil," she nodded.

"And, this is kind of embarrassing too, but...I want to be remembered." It was the first time he had actually said that out loud.

"Remembered?"

"I want to make history, you know? Even if I can't remember who I am now, I want other people to remember my name centuries to come. I want to do something meaningful, dramatic." Ashei smiled and squeezed his arm. Link didn't want to say anything else because the truth was, he didn't know much about his hatred himself. It seemed as if he had been born with it—or, maybe, reborn with it, when he had opened his eyes on his fifteenth birthday and remembered nothing except his name, how to use a sword, and Zelda's name.

"I think yer gonna be remembered, no problem."

"Yeah? How would you remember me?"

"Hm. Fearless leader who started a movement ta bring down a tyrant."

He smiled and leaned his head back against the chair. That had a nice ring to it. But, of course, it only mattered if he could live up to it. "What about you? Why do you hate the queen?"

"She took my daddy political prisoner when I was fifteen. That bitch tracked him down and punished him for my grandpa defectin'. One day I came home...and he was gone. Just like that. And my neighbors told me Iron Warriors had raided my home. He got sick and died in prison. I never got ta bury his body or say goodbye."

Link didn't even say I'm sorry, because he knew that wasn't what she wanted to hear. It wasn't what anybody wanted to hear. She didn't want apologies. She wanted her father back. Link took another glance at the pictographs on the walls. He had his own pictograph that he carried with him, something he kept close to his heart. It was a pictograph of him, Raazi, Damita, Shad, Anowaika, and Vukan. They were each making a silly face, pushing and shoving each other, laughing. It reminded him that in some sense, they were a bit normal.

"When I thought there was nothin' I could do, a miracle happened, and I met Shad. He wrote me a letter sayin' he'd love my allegiance, somethin' like that, yeah? I was on board from that moment on."

"So you've known him a while."

"...Yeah."

They were silent then. Each meandering in his or her own thoughts, going over again and again the reason for fighting. Why they had heeded that call to arms, the moment Zelda had put that crown on her head. In an attempt to distract himself from thinking too much about a past he didn't know, Link took out his ponytail, ran his fingers through his hair. Considered retying it, but then decided to just let it sit there on his shoulders. Ashei lifted her head and turned her back to him.

"Hey, pretty boy. Ya know how to give a massage?"

"No."

"My shoulders been killin' me. Think ya can give it a shot?"

"Sure." Link put his hands on her shoulders, moving Meemo's head from his lap, and squeezed. She inhaled deeply as he tried his very best to give some kind of comfort. Damita had given him massages before, but she definitely seemed like she'd known what she was doing. She could always put pressure in just the right places. Link tried to imitate her, squeezing and pushing against the skin and bones of Ashei's slender shoulders. She breathed in and out with his movements, but stayed silent. Then, without really thinking about it, Link slipped his hands beneath her shirt so he could feel her skin while he massaged her. The loose fabric slipped down to the middle of her arms.

Only when Ashei turned her head, and he could feel her breath on his fingers, did he realize how much he missed the warmth of Damita's body already.

Suddenly Link's hands were moving more slowly, closer and closer to the base of Ashei's neck. He was no longer squeezing, pushing, massaging. He was stroking the pale skin of her collarbone with his fingertips. Something—her musky scent, her shimmering black hair, how red her lips had looked when they'd first met—was drawing him closer to her. Maybe it didn't even have anything to do with Ashei. Maybe it was just Link's desire for another person.

He inched closer until his lips were against the back of her neck, and she breathed in so deeply when they made contact that he felt it within his own lungs. As he kissed her neck, he moved his hands down her arms until her shirt was down around her waist. Then he put his hand on her neck and pushed ever so slightly, so her bare back was against his chest and her lips brushing his temple. She put her own, delicate fingers on top of his, waited patiently while his mouth moved up and up and finally met her open lips. She tasted like snow and tobacco. He turned her around, and they were face-to-face, chest-to-chest. He wondered what was going through her head, because absolutely nothing but physical desire was going through his.

Gently, he pushed forward, until she was on her back. And then he was on top of her, hands running through her cropped hair while she slipped her hands beneath his shirt.

Without warning, before Link could even take his shirt off, Ashei was shaking her head with tears in her eyes, saying, "No."

He sat up abruptly and moved away, averting his gaze while she did the same and pulled her shirt back up. Link wasn't sure what to say then.

Was I not supposed to do that?

"Sorry," she mumbled. Link shook his head and retied his hair.

"No reason to be sorry." He glanced up and saw her blushing like a tomato in embarrassment.

"I just...I'd feel too guilty, ya know?"

"Guilty? Why?"

Ashei hugged her knees into her chest and rested her chin on top of them, staring blankly at the fire. The tears were gone, as if they'd never been there at all.

"Because I think I'm in love with Shad."

"You think you're what?"

"In love with Shad," she repeated.

"So...why did you...?"

"Yer just so handsome and rugged I couldn't resist for a second there," she chuckled, like a little girl. "And it's been a while, yeah?"

"Wait. You're in love with Shad? I thought you said you'd never met him."

"I haven't. Not face ta face, I mean. But I've known him for five years, writin' letters every chance I get. We got ta know each other, yeah? I think I love him. I wanna meet him. Face ta face. I mean, I sent him a pictograph ah me, and he sent me one ah him. I keep it in my pocket. He's so handsome. I wanna really see that face."

Link was so very confused.

Why the shoulder massage, huh?

"And I know he's in love with me."

"How?"

"He told me he is."

"Ah."

"Maybe after this is over," she continued, "I can go down ta Castilia and meet him. Or he can come up here." She was speaking as if in a dream, her head tilted and her lips quivering. Lips that had just been kissing his.

"What do you mean, when this is all over?"

Ashei looked at him then with the strangest expression, a combination of sadness and hatred and loneliness and determination.

"When Zelda is dead, and we can all just live in peace. Do what we want, live where we want, be who we want. Yeah?"

When Zelda is dead.

Will that even change anything?

Link lay his head on Meemo's furry back and stared at the ceiling. Ashei, in similar fashion, put her head on Link's belly. She fell asleep within moments, while he was doomed to roam the endless night with his thoughts.

Will that even change anything?