Chapter 32: Companionship

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Instead of returning to sleep that night, once his terror and grief had finally ebbed and logic returned to his mind, he lit a candle at the small nightstand in his room and began writing out his report. The Princess starting their campfire, the Princess using a bow in his defense, the Princess tending his wounds, him sleeping in the same room as the Princess (although, to be fair, it was the only room in the entire inn, and everyone slept there), the Princess supporting half of his weight as they climbed up Zora's Domain, all that madness with Mipha, and then of course actually embracing the Princess and coming into her tent in the middle of the night after her nightmare to comfort her…

With each stroke of his quill, his spirits sank lower and lower. He was condemning himself with his own words, explicitly stating for the world to see every instant he had broken his oath and gone against his orders. Janin'll have my hide for this, he thought miserably, when at last he finished writing and, after quickly dressing in his Champion's tunic, delivered the report to the guard standing outside the Captain's office.

Making the long walk back up to the Princess' chambers, he thought about his conversation with her the day before. I told her I didn't regret what I've done, he reflected. Is that true? Because if it is, then why do I feel so… so miserable about it now?

He frowned, scouring back through his memories. Each time I spoke to her, would it have been better if I just did nothing?

Better for me in the long term, perhaps. But not better for her, and…

And now that he had begun to realize what it meant to have a friend, especially one as sincere as the Princess was proving to be, his blood curdled at the thought of having lived without it. I don't feel alone when she's with me.

But that was the agonizing truth of the situation. Because of his rebellion, because of his decision to accept the Princess' offer of friendship, he knew he would probably lose her forever. When Janin reads what happened, when the King reads what happened… it'll be over.

No Choice. No Zelda.

His heart squeezed and he grimaced, his heart pounding, as he remembered his most recent nightmare. I lost them both then, too. And then I lost myself, in a way… is there something symbolic in that?

He relieved the guard on duty outside of the Princess' quarters and stood in his place by the door as the last hours of the night finally gave way into morning. Then the Princess' maids walked in, as usual, but Link was surprised when they walked back out only moments later, each of them wearing nearly identical expressions of confusion.

The Princess herself walked out a few minutes later, wearing a clean set of travelling clothes beneath a long winter cloak. "Good morning, Sir Link," she said with a sad smile. "I… I know we've only just returned, but… I was wondering if you were serious about those… those lessons. With Dinraal."

Link studied her anxiously. She had been crying; he could see it in the redness rimming her eyes. Another nightmare? "Are you… are you sure?"

She nodded vigorously, looking away from him. "Quite sure. Do you think that Hyrule Forest Park would be a suitable place?"

"Yes," he agreed quietly. "It… that… would be fine."

She nodded curtly and pushed past him into the hallway, hurrying towards the nearest stairwell. Link jogged after her, concern burning more prominently in his heart. Did I offend her? Did I do something wrong again? Is she alright? How can I fix it?

She stopped when she reached the landing where he had succumbed to the monkshood's poison months before; her hands travelled to the necklace hanging around her neck and she bowed her head. Inhaling shakily, she squared her shoulders and moved on, and Link followed, his concern for her growing. As soon as we're at the park, I'll -

"What would you say to breakfast as well?" the Princess asked abruptly, cutting his thoughts short. "There's… a lovely little bakery in Castle Town. I haven't been in ages, and… I'd wager you've never been either."

"I haven't," Link affirmed, trying not to let his befuddlement show in his voice. "I… that would… be nice." He forced a smile.

"Good," Zelda murmured, walking onward once again. She didn't say another word as they wandered through the silent hallways, deserted in these early morning hours. Link was afraid to break the silence - afraid of who might be listening, and afraid that he wouldn't know what to say or that if he did say something it wouldn't help.

When they walked outside, Link shivered. Winter was descending with a vengeance, turning the ground hard and stiff, making even stone seem more solid than it usually was. The morning was quiet save for the low, whistling moan of wind along the spires and ridges of the castle, a cold, hollow sound. Link could almost taste the first snowstorms; they were sure to descend soon. And where will I be when they do?

In the distance a murmur of voices nearly inaudible - the sound of knights upon the walls preparing their breakfast over small, portable cooking fires. A hearty laugh rang out somewhere over the balustrade; a horse whinnied from the nearby paddocks.

Inside the stables it was warmer, and the air was thick and stale, smelling strongly of hay and horses. Link almost smiled; these scents meant comfort, safety, peace… it was a place of refuge, and after the trauma the night had brought he could feel himself relax almost at once.

"So I need to saddle him up myself; is that right?" Zelda asked, heading for the tack room.

Link nodded, hurrying to fall into step with her. "And… I'm thinking we should just use a normal light riding saddle instead of all the royal gear; it's more comfortable."

Zelda nodded solemnly, studying the wide assortment of saddles, bridles, and blankets hanging on hooks. "Which ones are those?"

He gestured towards several simpler saddles grouped together. "Try one of those. And…" He reached up, standing on the tips of his toes, to reach a matching bridle. "And one of these, too."

Armed with their tack and a few alfalfa cubes hidden in pockets, they made their way down the long rows of stalls until they came to three that were much larger and more ornate than the others. One housed Farosh, the King's massive white charger, standing regally at attention, and the other held a bored-looking Dinraal munching on his breakfast, while the third was ostensibly empty.

The Princess went still, visibly stiffening. Link shifted the saddle to one arm and reached out for her shoulder, gently guiding her away from her mother's horse's stall. "Not the best layout," he said with exaggerated cheeriness. "Stabling two stallions right next to each other… I bet they get pretty aggressive in the spring."

Zelda didn't seem to have heard him at all. "I haven't been here in so long," she whispered. "Not since…"

Link winced. This isn't going well so far. "Do you… want to take him outside first?"

"It's cold," she protested with a shiver. "I'd rather not." Her eyes bright with fresh resolve, she unlatched the stall door and stepped inside.

Dinraal looked up from his tub of oats and pranced in place, his head high and alert. His nostrils flared as Zelda approached and she bit her lip, her gaze sliding to Link. Quickly he draped the saddle, blanket, and bridle he'd taken from the tack room across the stall door and moved to the Princess' side, holding a lead rope. "Go ahead and greet him," he suggested softly, gently taking her arm and guiding her closer.

"Greet him?" Zelda raised an eyebrow skeptically. "How do you mean?"

"Well…" Link shifted from one foot to the other awkwardly. He'd never thought about explaining this before. "They're animals, but that doesn't mean they don't have feelings, thoughts, personalities… They should be treated as such."

Zelda nodded slowly, turning her gaze to her horse. "Er… good morning, Dinraal."

Dinraal's ears twitched at the sound of his name and he seemed to relax, losing interest in his visitors; he walked to his water trough, taking a long drink. Link brought Zelda close again, first clipping the lead rope to Dinraal's halter and then bringing her hand to her horse's shoulder. "Touch is important," he explained. "It's… one way to communicate and build relationships."

"Build relationships," Zelda repeated quietly; her hand twitched beneath Link's. He blushed and quickly pulled his hand away, looping the lead rope around a ring in the wall and fetching Dinraal's brushes from a pail hanging from a hook next to it.

"Here," he gulped, hoping his face wasn't as red as it felt. He held out a wooden brush with dull, serrated ridges on one side. "This is a curry comb; you rub it around in circles and it loosens up the dirt and old hair."

She took it from him and began working on Dinraal's magnificent coat, wincing a little. Dinraal turned his head to look at her sideways, blinking slowly; he exhaled heavily and turned his attention back to his oats, taking half a step forward. Zelda stopped, looking at Link anxiously.

"You're doing great," he assured her with a small smile. "He's just being ornery."

At his encouragement, she continued grooming her horse; after thoroughly going over his coat with the curry comb Link handed her a softer brush and she carefully swept away all of the dirt and hair she'd brought to the surface, a slow smile growing on her face as Dinraal didn't try to move away again.

"I never noticed this before, but… he's really not all white," Zelda murmured as she worked, squinting at Dinraal's coat. "These little brown flecks… I thought they were just dirt."

Dinraal snorted as if affronted, giving her a disgruntled look. Link grinned. "This one is," he said, pointing out a small clump of dirt matting a few small strands of hair together.

"How does that even happen?" Zelda asked with a laugh. "He's quite a bit dirtier than I would have expected!"

"They like to roll around sometimes," Link explained. "In the dirt, on the grass… it's funny to watch."

Zelda swept the brush over Dinraal's hindquarters, eyeing his hooves cautiously. "How exactly did you learn any of this?" she asked. "From what I hear you've spent your life doing nothing but swordplay. Where did you find time to watch horses rolling in the dirt?"

His smile faded slightly. "Janin wanted my horse to be loyal to me," he sighed. "And he knew that a bond between us would take time. While I was training Choice, I don't remember ever leaving her side. For a few months, I don't think I even had to touch a sword. And… it worked; I know she's loyal to me. But more than that, I'm loyal to her, too." He chuckled sadly, losing himself for a moment in pleasant memories. "She… well, I don't know what family feels like, but… I think… I think she's family to me."

A soft touch on his arm roused him, and he blinked to find the Princess gazing at him with a warm glow in her eyes. "You'll bring her with us today, won't you?" she murmured, a note of sadness in her voice. She understood, just as much as he did, that Choice would not be with him if he had to leave.

Link swallowed thickly. There are too many good-bye's looming ahead of me. And Zelda wanted to give him as much time as she could with his horse. "Yes," he managed, looking away. He cleared his throat. "Good job on Dinraal's coat; his hooves are next."

Zelda's eyes went wide. "His… hooves?"

Link nodded, fetching a small metal tool from the pail hanging on the wall. "Dirt and grass and manure and things can get stuck in there and make it uncomfortable for him. So…" He bent down, facing towards Dinral's rump, and gently slid his hand down his leg and ankle, prompting him to lift his hoof. Holding it with one hand, Link scraped out the small stones and bits of straw that had gotten caught in the frog of the hoof. "So you lean over like this and ask him to lift up his hoof by sort of leaning against his shoulder and giving his ankle a light squeeze, and then when his hoof is up hold it in place and scrape out anything caught inside."

"You don't ever get kicked?" Zelda asked, incredulous. "Or stepped on?"

Link chuckled. "Stepped on, yeah, but it's usually an accident. And when they put their hoof down they're usually resting their weight on their other side, so they're not actually stepping on you. If that makes sense."

The Princess twisted her hands together. "If it's all the same to you, I'll ask that you do this part," she said with a nervous laugh. "I'm not entirely certain I trust him not to kick me."

Link grinned. "Of course, Princess."

It didn't take long; he had done this too many times to count, and Dinraal's hooves were already mostly clean. When he finished, he returned the hoof pick and other brushes to the pail on the wall and pulled the saddle blanket from the stall door.

"This goes forward just over his shoulders to keep the saddle from chafing," he explained, lifting it over Dinraal's back and stepping aside, letting the Princess adjust its position. "Just over his withers - there. Perfect."

"And I'm guessing the saddle will need to be evenly placed over the blanket, right?" Zelda reached for the saddle and staggered backwards, off-balance, with its weight. Link caught her quickly, steadying her with his hands on her arms.

"Heavier than it looks," he said with a small smile, and she grinned ruefully, allowing him to take it from her and set it over Dinraal's back. "The girth strap might be tricky, too; it can be tough to pull it tight all the way."

"I'd like to try, at least," the Princess protested. "What do I need to do?"

"I'll go around to his other side and hand you the girth strap under his belly," Link explained, and lifted one of the flaps on the saddle to reveal several buckles in a row. "Pull it as high as you can and buckle it in place."

Zelda nodded determinedly, and Linked walked around Dinraal's hindquarters, keeping one hand on his back to remind the horse of his presence. He pulled the girth strap down and passed it under Dinraal's chest before hurrying back around to the Princess' side. Eyes narrowed in determination, she pulled the girth strap high, elbowing the flap up and struggling to fit the strap into the buckles. Link held the flap up for her and she nodded her thanks, grunting with exertion as she secured one buckle and worked on the other two. Dinraal sighed heavily.

"There," she panted at last, looking at him with a bright smile that warmed his heart. "Does that work?"

Link nodded, smiling. "It's perfect," he said, moving to Dinraal's head. The mighty horse gave him an annoyed look but didn't try to move away as he removed his halter and draped the lead rope across his shoulders. "The bridle's next -"

"I think I'll ask you to do that one as well," Zelda winced. "From what I've seen that involves interaction with his teeth, and… well, he has tried to bite me once already."

Link snorted. "You really are a grump," he said to Dinraal, fetching the bridle from the door and pulling it forward over his muzzle. Gently he guided the bit into Dinraal's mouth and the horse chewed on it thoughtfully as Link pulled the rest of the bridle over his ears and buckled it in place. "Looks like you're good to go now."

Zelda took the reins and walked Dinraal out of his stall; Link closed the door behind them and they made their way to Choice's stall. She whickered a greeting as they neared, one that Dinraal huffed at and Link returned with a wave. He had groomed and saddled and bridled her so many times by now that it was a quick and efficient process, although he didn't try to rush the grooming.

"So where were you thinking for breakfast?" Link asked as they led the two horses out of the stable.

"Wheaton and Pita's Bakery," Zelda answered with a smile. "My mother used to take me every week when I was younger, and even now I try to go when I can. They make the best fruitcake, and pumpkin pies, and strawberry and honey brioche bread, and croissants…"

"You're making my mouth water," Link grinned, hoping she didn't hear his stomach rumbling.

Zelda laughed, sliding a foot into a stirrup and hopping up into the saddle. "Good - they're worth it," she smiled. "Maybe… maybe if you… if it doesn't work… we could meet there every once in a while."

And just like that, Link felt a cloud fall over his mood. Images of death and blood and agony lit by torchlight passed through his mind and he blinked several times, brought to the painful realization that he was living, essentially, on borrowed time. His heart ached.

But the thought that the Princess would still want to see him, even after all of that…

"You'd… really want that?" he asked softly, swinging himself up into Choice's saddle.

"Of course." The Princess didn't meet his gaze, nudging Dinraal's sides and urging him into a steady walk. Choice followed. "You're my friend, Link, and you don't deserve anything that my father wants to happen. I don't want to lose your friendship."

"I don't want to lose you either," Link grimaced, his heart heavy.

Zelda fell silent. The horses' hooves clacked against the cobblestone path down the hillside, intermingled with the distant sounds of more voices than had been there before. The castle was waking up

"I hate to admit it, but my father was right about something," the Princess sighed as they passed through the grand front gates leading to the bridge over the moat. "Dinraal seems to be listening better already."

"Good," Link murmured, absently patting Choice's neck. "It's about time he learned how to treat you right."

Zelda chuckled halfheartedly. "It makes me doubt, though. I… I've hoped, I've believed, that I really am doing all that I can to unlock these… sealing powers. Father doesn't agree. And… and if he was right about Dinraal, then… maybe he's right about this, too."

"He's not," Link insisted, a cold edge hardening his voice. "Zelda, I've accompanied you for months now. And even before that, I guarded you on a few occasions just around the castle with some of the others. You are the most dedicated person I've ever met, and it's frustrating to me that no one else seems to see it. Especially your own father."

She smiled weakly. "Such thinking won't win you any favors with him," she warned.

Link shrugged. "I'm not about to change my opinion on this. And if the worst happens, then… then it's a great idea about meeting at this bakery."

Zelda's smile widened, growing more heartfelt. "I'm glad to hear that," she sighed. "And… well, if that's the case, then you'll need to know where to find it. This way."

The central square was already a hub of activity. Merchants were returning to their stalls, laying out fresh wares and unlocking chests containing their products. A puppeteer was setting up his little stage, preparing for the arrival of children later in the day. A few people wandered aimlessly around the fountain, couples out for a romantic morning walk or travellers determined to see as much as they could of Hyrule's capital city in a single day. The unique blue-shingled roofs, a shade darker than the sky, stretched out like a vast ocean above them. The sound of rushing water from the iconic fountain in the center of the square, accompanied by lively chatter and the clatter of hoofbeats, created a cheerful ambience that eased the stress that had seemed to have taken up permanent residence between Link's shoulder blades. Now, if only no one recognizes us…

It was why, he realized, the Princess had dressed herself in travelling clothes and a cloak instead of her more well-known casual attire. But her stunning white horse could still give her away, and of course Link was wearing his Champion's tunic.

"This way," Zelda said, leading him around the edge of the square and down one of the side streets. "They have a stall by the fountain, but it's getting colder, and I always preferred the privacy of their little bakery anyway."

She dismounted by a timber frame cottage similar to all the others in Castle Town, with a blue-shingled roof and wooden supports crossed over stone walls, but it was shorter and had more windows on the first floor, displaying freshly baked breads and pastries. Link dismounted and took Choice and Dinraal's reins, tethering them to a nearby hitching post. "We'll be back soon," he promised them, before hurrying into the little cottage after the Princess.

The delicious smell of baked goods wafted over him the instant he stepped inside and his stomach growled, but the sound was masked by the tinkling of a bell over the door and the light, calm twanging of a psaltery played by a colorful bard sitting happily by a fireplace in the corner. Circular tables, all currently abandoned, stood scattered across the wood-panelled floor. On the walls hung pine boughs festively decorated, wrapped in red and gold ribbons.

"What do you think?" Zelda asked with a smile, turning to him.

"I like it," he grinned, meeting her gaze. He felt suddenly like one of the other knights taking a lady friend out for a meal; his cheeks warmed and he shoved the thought away, resisting the impulsive urge to take her hand.

The Princess beckoned him over to a display shelf filled with a wide assortment of baked goods - slices of cakes and pies, brioche bread with accents of cinnamon, strawberry, and honey, croissants and bagels and pumpernickel…

"Ah, welcome in!" A plump older woman bustled in from a back room, her hair wrapped in a tight bun streaked with gray and her face lined with wrinkles but her gaze warm and inviting. She wore a simple gray dress and an apron already smudged with flour. "Great to see you again, Zelda dear! And, my, who is this handsome young friend you've brought with you?"

Link's cheeks went warm, and Zelda grinned. "This is my friend and escort, Sir Link," she explained.

"Well, it's a pleasure to meet you," the woman smiled kindly at him. "Now, what would the two of you like on this fine day?"

The Princess took a moment to look over the delicious assortment of goods on display, tapping her chin thoughtfully. "I believe I'll have a cinnamon bun and a slice of fruitcake. Oh, and that warm spiced milk with sugar and nutmeg!"

"I could have guessed," the woman chuckled. "You are rather predictable at times, dear. And what about you?" She turned her hazel gaze on Link.

He froze for a moment, uncertain. "Er…"

Zelda touched his hand lightly. "Choose anything you'd like," she said with an encouraging smile. "I brought enough rupees to feed an army."

"You can't do that," Link protested, feeling more than a little shocked. "I - I can't -"

"Well, it's your birthday in a couple of weeks, isn't it?" she reminded him. "Or… it's the day you become a year older, I suppose. Consider this an early gift!"

He blinked several times in surprise. "You… you would do that?"

"Of course," Zelda promised earnestly. "Now, what would you like? They're all delicious - despite what Pita says, I have actually tasted everything at one point or another."

The woman, Pita, chuckled. "Our memories differ there, dearie. You always get the fruitcake!"

Link grinned despite himself as Zelda smirked teasingly. "I… I think I'll have a slice of the strawberry brioche." At Zelda's encouraging look, he added, "And… and maybe a slice of pumpkin pie too."

Pita laughed. "At last, someone who isn't tired of pumpkin pie after the Harvest Festival's over. I did tell Wheaton that someone would still want some."

"How is he doing?" Zelda asked as Pita cut into the fruitcake. "He was experimenting with that bean from Faron - cacao, he called it?"

"Oh, he's really on to something with that," she beamed. "His experiments have so far been incredible - a tad bitter, but then he's still trying to find the ideal proportions of sugar and milk to add. Truly delicious - you'll have to come by again soon, when he's ready to put it out for sale!" She handed them their food, wrapped in parchment, and winked. "Bring your friend along, too!"

"I will, gladly," Zelda laughed, glancing at Link with a grin as they walked away to find a table. He couldn't keep himself from blushing again.

The food was just as delicious as Zelda had promised, and Link enjoyed it even more in her presence. The thought of meeting her here in the future if - probably when - he was banished from the castle brought a strange ache to his chest; he loved the idea of meeting up with her still should the worst come to pass, but he wished instead that he could just remain as her escort.

Well… I chose this, didn't I? I made choices; I believe they were good ones. I don't regret it, but here we are anyway.

"Oh, Princess Zelda! Is that you?"

Link glanced up in surprise as the court poet, Filo, hurried towards them. He was grinning widely.

"Yes, hello, Filo," Zelda said, and Link jealously hoped he wasn't imagining the slight hint of annoyance in her voice.

Filo swept a chair from another table and dragged it close to theirs. "Are you by chance fond of Wheaton and Pita's goods as well? They're my favorites!"

"Mine as well," the Princess answered with an awkward laugh, her gaze darting uncertainly to Link. "What… er… what brings you here?"

"I figured I would stop by for a little breakfast before heading to Central Square for my performances today," he chuckled. "Oh, and… I just happened to notice that you had walked inside, and my, it has been a long time. I thought it would be nice to see you again."

An uncomfortable silence fell. Zelda gave a slight cough. "It's nice to see you as well," she said at last. "How… how are your songs coming along?"

Filo's smile faltered for a brief moment. "Well, er… good. Yes. They're coming along fine. I was actually quite pleased with what I wrote for the Harvest Festival just last week; I was… I mean, I would have loved for you to hear it. It was written for you, after all."

"For me?"

The bard nodded vigorously. "I called it 'Silent Nocturne,' a name derived from a combination of your favorite flower and the lullaby your mother sang to us at night when we were children. Perhaps I could visit you in your study to perform it for you?"

Zelda blinked several times and smiled; it seemed forced to Link. "Yes, I… would like that. After the start of the new year. I'm… a bit preoccupied with important matters at the moment."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Filo frowned. He shot a suspicious glare in Link's direction - the first time he had so much as acknowledged Link's presence - so quickly that Link wondered if it hadn't happened at all. Abruptly the Sheikah bard got to his feet and shoved the chair he had occupied back to its original table. "Well, I'm afraid I must be going. It was a pleasure to speak with you, Princess, as always!"

He hurried away, out of the bakery; there was something almost angry in the firm stride he set. Zelda gawped at him, her brows furrowed in confusion. Slowly she shook her head.

"Now, he's got all the appearance of a jealous man if there ever was one," Pita said, and Link nearly jumped out of his skin finding her hovering over their table with a mischievous smirk. His face quickly grew warm.

"Oh, Pita, it's not like that," Zelda protested, her own face coloring. "We were… well, we were close as children but now he's finding that continuing childhood friendships isn't an easy thing. That's all."

"Mm-hmm," Pita chuckled with a knowing wink. "Well, best of luck to him, then."

Zelda shook her head, an amused expression twisting her lips upwards in a small smile. "You know," she murmured as Pita walked away, "before we encountered Filo at the Shrine of Resurrection, I… I think I actually did fancy him a little. Now… well, as I believe I mentioned before, it reminds me of you and Mipha. Although… he's not quite as desperate as she is," she finished with a chuckle.

Link grimaced. "Yeah, well… it probably helps that you're the princess in this scenario. Mipha wouldn't get her head chopped off for kissing me, whereas Filo…" He shrugged.

"My father wouldn't cut off someone's head for a kiss," Zelda protested, blushing. "At least - not if I wanted it to happen, I think."

Link gave a slight start, his eyes widening. Wait… really?

Then… then maybe I actually could… if she felt the same way…

Zelda's smile faded slightly. "You're… staring, Link," she pointed out, her blush deepening.

Link recoiled, his mouth going dry. "I… I was?" he gulped, his heart hammering faster. "I - sorry; I didn't - I mean, that wasn't… er… sorry." He avoided his gaze, awaiting condemnation with flaming cheeks.

She didn't say anything for several moments, and his dread increased. But when she did speak, it was as if nothing at all had happened. "Well, I suppose we had better get back to the horses and head out to the park. Choice is probably fine, I'm sure, but I never know what to expect with Dinraal. He's quite prone to mischief." She stood up and pushed in her chair; Link hastened to do the same and followed her quietly out the door, meek in the face of his embarrassment.

The cold air hit him like a slap to the face when he walked outside and he couldn't help but recoil, stiffening as an icy chill sank through him. Is it possible that the temperature dropped while we were inside?

I should have brought a cloak.

Wincing, he jogged after the Princess to the hitching post where their horses waited. Choice, true to character, whinnied cheerfully as they neared, and a wave of affection filled his soul with warmth. Dinraal, of course, acknowledged their approach merely with a sullen twitch of his ears.

Their walk through Central Square and the easter road was much less peaceful than it had been earlier. Despite the chill, the street was packed with people going about their daily routines, buying and selling and performing. More people meant more eyes; as a result there were not only a few who turned to glare at the Princess and her knight as they rode past. Although the air was frigid, their gazes burned; Link tried to keep his expression still and stoic but he couldn't prevent the blush that he could feel spreading along his cheeks and up his ears.

It was a relief when they finally passed beyond the gates of Castle Town, into the Romani Plains. The wind was violent, piercing straight through Link's clothes and freezing his bones, tearing at his hair, but at least there was no longer anyone around to jeer.

The plains themselves were barren, the grass brittle, brown, and dry, bent double by the wind. Sunlight filtered weakly down through a feeble stretch of thin clouds. No birds sang; if they did, Link couldn't hear them over the lonely howling wind. Winter had, it seemed, truly descended. All that was missing was snow.

They passed by the small cemetery just outside the city walls nearest the cathedral and crossed over the Boneyard Bridge into the small forest beyond. Wood creaked and bare branches rattled, but the trees provided some small protection from the wind. Link was beginning to shiver, but it was undoubtedly less cold here in the woodlands.

"I was thinking we could start with some reining exercises," Link said. "Maybe a loop around two trees…"

He demonstrated with Choice, and Zelda attempted to urge Dinraal to follow. The instant Dinraal realized what was going on, he seemed to decide that it was beneath him and fought her for control, walking in opposite directions, slowing his pace, and moving suspiciously close to low-hanging branches.

"Don't back down," Link encouraged her. "There's a pecking order among horses just as there is anything else; you need to show him that he can't boss you around."

It was a difficult process for both of them. Dinraal was proud and stubborn, and the Princess was very light on the reins, not wanting to pull too hard. Link alternated between walking Choice side by side with the two of them and standing off to the side, offering advice and encouragement where he could.

And, as the morning wore on, Link could see progress. Dinraal relented more easily, fought the Princess less and less… It wasn't much, but it was something, and it made him smile.

"So what did you think?" the Princess asked as they walked their horses slowly back to the castle. "Am I as abysmal a rider as my father seems to think?"

Link grinned at the note of amusement in her voice. "Not at all. And… I guess it's not so much about your skill as it is about just spending time and working with Dinraal."

Zelda nodded slowly. "So… the more time we spend together, the more he'll listen to me?"

Link shrugged. "That's half of it. How you interact with him is the other half; when you take the time to speak with him, soothe him, give him attention… it's the only way he'll know how you truly feel."

"I see," Zelda murmured. She smiled softly. "Thank you for the advice, Link. I'll be sure to remember it." A hint of sadness entered her gaze and voice, and she frowned. "I'll… I'll always remember you, too. No matter what happens."

And again the dread coiling in his gut reared its head, and a dark cloud of gloom settled over his soul. No matter what happens…

What, exactly, will happen?

He didn't want to find out.