The Legend of Zelda: Reconciliation

Hey all!

Well, not exactly ten days, but not exactly three months, either, right? Knock on wood and all that jazz.

I know a lot of you (judging by your reviews) are practically frothing at the mouth to see Link vs. Agahnim, and I promise it will be soon, just not this chapter. There were things that needed to be taken care of first. While I'm not promising anything, however, it is highly likely that the next chapter will see Link, at last, in Castletown.

As always, I hope you enjoy the read and it was worth the wait!

Rose Zemlya

(For progress updates, please visit: www. fengs-shui. com/ fsconnect/ viewthread. php? tid31)

Courage, sacrifice, determination, commitment, toughness, heart, talent, guts…

…that's what little girls are made of – to Hell with sugar and spice.
—Unknown—

Often I have found that the one thing that can save, is the thing which appears most to threaten...one has to go down into what one most fears and of that a saving flicker of light and energy that, even if it does not produce the courage of a hero, at any rate enables a trembling mortal to take one step further.
—Laurens Van Der Post—

xxx

Chapter 11

It's a blessed, merciful crack of thunder that wakes me this time, sending me sitting straight up in my bed with a gasp, sheen of cold sweat shining in the accompanying lightning flash and soaking my sheets. I lean forward and rest my head in my shaking hands for a long moment, trying to regulate my frantic heartbeat and my panicked, shallow breathing.

Nightmares.

I let out a long, slow, shuddering breath.

I hate nightmares.

I fall back onto my pillow with a frustrated, sleep-deprived growl and immediately curl up around myself. I haven't had a wink of sleep tonight. Not so much as a wink. Every time I let myself go I fall into a new nightmare, worse than the last. Sometimes I wake up right away. Sometimes it takes a while. Sometimes it feels like I can't wake up at all and I'll be stuck in the nightmare forever. I close my eyes and turn my face into my pillow, trying to make myself stop shaking, but it's no use.

I can't go back to sleep. I'm not going back to sleep.

It's fire and death and destruction every time I fall asleep.

There's only so many times in one night you can watch everything you love destroyed before you've had enough.

I've hit my quota.

I fight my way out of my tangled sheets and onto the floor, padding barefoot across my floor and over to where my boots are. I briefly play with the idea of getting dressed, but discard it just as quickly.

Why? You spend enough time with the Gerudo – who have no respect for personal privacy or propriety or any other number of things which 90 of the world lives by, but they consider frivolous – you stop caring after a while. Half this fortress has seen me in my boxers and undershirt anyway, so who cares?

Besides, I'm antsy and getting dressed takes time.

I pull on my boots as thunder rolls again outside and the rain continues to pound away at my window. The two Elite outside the door both blink at me in surprise when I slide the door open and slip out.

"Is something wrong?" One of them asks while the other peers into the room and scans it for the problem.

"No, no," I say, waving her off. "Just … can't sleep, that's all. I'm going to go for a walk."

"Not outside, I hope," she says, raising an eyebrow at me. I grin at her.

"I may be reckless," I say, "but I'm not that reckless. Last thing I need right now is pneumonia."

"Do you want us to come with you?" I let the grin turn into a smile.

"No thanks," I say. "I need to think. I'll be back in a bit anyway."

"Do us a favour and don't get into trouble, all right? Nabooru'll have our heads."

"Nabooru will never know," I say with a wink and disappear around the corner, stifling a yawn as I go. The halls are nearly dead at this time of night. Some of the purple will be running a night patrol, and they'll be up on the walls as well, but beyond that everyone's in bed and asleep (except of course the two Elite lucky enough to draw the night shift on my room. I've told them they don't need to bother, but arguing with the Elite is like arguing with a brick wall. All you'll have to show for it at the end is a sore throat, a set of bloodied knuckles and an unmoved brick wall).

I wander around without really paying attention to where I'm going. I've lived here long enough I don't need to worry about getting lost in the hallways and not being able to find my way back out again. To say my thoughts are preoccupied with other things would be the grossest of understatements.

It takes me a few minutes to place the leaden feeling that's settled in my gut and made me feel thick and slow. It's not quite fear, not quite anger, not quite anything that active. It's cold and hot at the same time and I can feel it dragging at me as I walk. It's got my stomach tied in knots, my brows furrowed, and my fists jammed into my pockets and my shoulders kind of hunched as though if I could shrink myself up small enough it'll go away and leave me alone.

There's no denying what is once I figure it out, though.

Dread. That's what it is.

The unshakable, unalterable, undeniable feeling that something very, very soon is going to go very, very wrong. I don't know what, I don't know how … but when I finally make up my mind to go after Agahnim … that's when. There's something we're not calculating. Some number that we've left out and it's going to change the answer to the question. There's something we don't know … and whatever it is, it's bad.

Agahnim is goading me.

He was goading me when he stabbed me as Zelda. He could have killed me right then and there – I wasn't expecting the attack. I left myself wide open. One good shot and that would have been it – but he didn't. He's goading me by leaving her at Castletown instead of sending her wherever it is he's sending these people, close enough I can almost feel her through our link but not close enough. And now he's goading me with these nightmares.

I narrow my eyes at the floor.

I know it's him.

I've had more than my fair share of nightmares over the course of my life – enough to know a thing or two about them – and the nightmares I've been having tonight aren't mine. They're too pointed, too frequent. Too … coherent, I guess.

But in a way, I don't care.

As long as he's goading me, it means Zelda's all right. If what Sahasrahla says is true, there isn't much he could do to her – at least not anything worth his time. He said he'd wait for me, and he meant it.

But why?

Why is he waiting? Why risk losing Zelda all over again? What does he want with me?

He wants me to kill him – or so Thomas says. But that makes no sense. Why would he want me to kill him? Who wants to die?

Would me killing him free Ganondorf? Is that what it is?

I rub my face tiredly. That doesn't sound right at all. Why wouldn't he just kill himself then? And why would he want me to do it?

Why is he waiting for me?

Why?

"Farore," I mutter under my breath, crossing my arms across my chest and training my eyes on the ground as I walk. "So what?"

A valid question. So what if he's waiting for me? So what if he's got something planned for me? Does it matter? Does it change the fact that I have to go after him? Does it change the fact that he's my only link to the missing people? Does it change the fact that my friends are missing? Does it change the fact that Bruiser's dead? Does it change the fact that he's working for Ganondorf and if I don't do something, and soon, the old Pig is going to escape his prison and wreak havoc on Hyrule again?

No.

It does not.

But it doesn't make me feel any better either.

The lead in my gut gets heavier.

I wish Hunter was here, and Neesha was speaking to me, and Bruiser was alive. I wish Zelda, and Malon, and Saria, and Goron-Link, and Laruto were all safe and sound with their parents. I wish Agahnim wasn't on the throne of Hyrule, and the people of Hyrule didn't believe in him, and he'd never touched Bel and Mel and Thomas, and there weren't Dark World moblins in the light world, and Ganondorf wasn't such a pain in the ass, and the Sages weren't so above the world all the time, and the generals weren't so part of the world all the time, and Rue wasn't so old, and I wasn't so young, and it wasn't the goddess damned rainy season.

For a brief, agonizing moment, I wish with all my heart that I wasn't the Hero of Time, and I hadn't somehow brought all of this on the world by virtue of that simple fact, and that I hadn't picked up the Master Sword back when I was given the option to leave it in the pedestal and lead a normal life.

"Link!"

I gasp and whirl around, startled out of my skin by the voice. "Rue!" I gasp, falling weakly against the wall and pressing a hand against my frantic heart. "Sweet merciful Din! Don't sneak up on me like that!" She frowns at me.

"I didn't," she replies. "I called out to you twice before now. Is everything all right? Why aren't you in bed?" She sighs before I can answer and waves it off. "Never mind, you're up now, you may as well come on in with us."

"Us?"

"Sahasrahla, Dune, Thomas and I," she responds, the rolls her eyes. "Not that Thomas has been much help since midnight."

"What are you doing?" I ask, following her willingly, grateful for the reprieve from my mental track. I'm not exactly eager to continue my previous line of thought.

I've never done that before: wished I wasn't the Hero of Time.

That's kind of frightening.

"Brainstorming," Rue answers quietly, slipping through a door. I follow her in and survey the room. Sahasrahla sits in a chair in the corner with a thoughtful frown on his face as he stares up at the ceiling – pausing long enough to offer me a warm smile – Thomas is curled up on two-thirds of a couch and Dune sits in a relaxed position on the last third, her feet up on the coffee table in the middle of the room. Rue moves across the room and drops onto another chair, and I grab a seat on the couch beside her. Dune raises an eyebrow at me.

"Dare I ask where your pants are?"

"Well I didn't expect to be invited to a party," I tell her with a grin. "I might have dressed up a bit had I known." Dune rolls her eyes.

"Dressed at all would have been nice," she murmurs. A yawn takes me by surprise.

"It's three o'clock in the morning, Dune," I reply. "I think the fact that I'm awake is an amazing feat in and of itself. You ask for a lot." She looks upwards and shakes her head, but the corners of her mouth are twitching and I know she's forgiven me for it.

"So what are we brainstorming?" I ask, turning around to survey the group.

"Just about everything," Dune answers. "Letting the conversation go where it will on the subject of our current situation and seeing if we can't solve something before the sun comes up."

"Shouldn't you be in bed?" I ask her. "I thought you were going with Impa tomorrow."

"I am," Dune responds, "but Sahasrahla and Rue wanted Thomas for the first part of this conversation and truth be told I wasn't really sleeping, anyway, so I figured I'd help them out too."

"Ah," I say. "So … where were you before I interrupted?"

"I believe," Sahasrahla says, "we were discussing the implications of Thomas' description of Agahnim's activities with the maidens." My lip quirks into a bit of a grin.

"Hey, look," I say, "he's not here to defend himself, so I should probably step in. Is there something else we can call them? I don't know that Hunter would take all that fondly to the idea of being a maiden."

"Is there another term that would provide the same ease of reference?" Rue asks primly. "Then maidens is the term we will use." I sigh.

"Have it your way," I say, pulling my legs up under me and leaning on the arm of the couch. "I actually haven't heard yet this particular story. What's he been doing with them?"

"Whatever it is, it's definitely a spell," Sahasrahla says. "Behind Agahnim's throne is a room with an altar in it. Agahnim would have Thomas lay the maiden out on the altar – quite unconscious, though that is likely more for ease than for any magical reasons. It's hard to cast a spell on a moving target – and Agahnim would begin casting. Once his incantations were complete, the maiden would appear to blur and the next instant would be gone."

"Teleportation?" I ask. Rue shakes her head.

"Teleportation isn't as complicated as what Thomas has described. It's a sending of some kind, but not that kind."

"A sending?"

"Technical term," Sahasrahla supplies. "It is exactly what it sounds like. When you take something and send it somewhere else." I rest my head on my arm and frown at him.

"So where is he sending them?"

"That, unfortunately, is where our knowledge runs out," Rue says with a sigh. "We don't know. He would have had to have said the name of the place in the incantation, but it would have been in the language of magic, and Thomas, unfortunately, wasn't nearly far enough in his magical studies to have been able to follow what he was saying, or even to accurately remember the words."

"And if the things he's done so far are any judge, it's very old, very black magic indeed that Agahnim is casting, and if such is the case Thomas wouldn't have been able to do anything even if he was further in his magical training. I suspect Agahnim's dealing with custom spells as well, which adds another layer of complication onto identifying them."

"It's the blurring that concerns me," Rue muses. I'd turn my head to look at her but I'm too tired. "That's an effect that isn't common with a sending. It's usually more … violent than that. An instant disappearance, a jerk, a visual display of light or darkness or sound or something. Not this … blurring."

"Hmm," Sahasrahla says in what I assume is agreement. I yawn again and shake my head furiously in an attempt to wake myself up. If I fall asleep now I'll have defeated my whole purpose in getting up in the first place.

It's just so warm in here …

"So maybe it wasn't a sending then," I offer.

"What else could it have been?" Dune asks. "What would make them disappear like that, but leave them alive?" She paused. "He does need them alive, right?"

"Yes," Sahasrahla says. "He needs them alive. Perhaps he's putting them to sleep?"

"That doesn't explain why they disappear." Silence falls for a moment and despite my best efforts I snuggle further down into the couch, curling up against the corner in a position entirely too comfortable.

I don't want to sleep …

But I'm so tired …

"Maybe it has something to do with the Dark World," Rue says as I feel my eyes fall shut slowly.

Maybe he'll leave me alone now that I'm with other people.

"You think he's sending them there?" Dune asks in a horrified voice.

Whatever answer is given to her is lost on me as I finally give up and let myself fade off to sleep.

xxx

A Brief Interlude

Neesha stalked her way through the torch-lit halls wrapped in a cloud of murder. The few night guards she crossed paths with gave her a wide berth, even a lone Green, and the Green were generally horrified by her existence because of the simple contradiction of the rules she represented – granted her Rite of Passage before she was technically allowed, youngest Gerudo ever to be named a Red (younger than Natalia which was saying something), was closer to the King and allowed to be than all of the White put together, and a million-and-one other paper-work generators that they all generally hated her for with all their bitter little administration-oriented hearts.

She sniffed derisively.

The feeling was mutual.

And anyway what did all of that general exceptionalness count for anyway? Apparently nothing. Apparently the fact that she had never failed in any mission she'd been given, that she continually and consistently provided more protection for the King than the White could ever hope to due to his nature, that she spent nearly all of her free-time training until she could barely stand (or until Link and Hunter took a fit and started feeling neglected and dragged her away from it) amounted to absolutely nothing when push came to shove.

Instead of following her King (and her friend) into glorious combat against a boil on the face of life in general who was in desperate need of a sword in the gut, she was to be locked up in the fortress, to sit on her ass, while everyone else got to go out and have fun.

What kind of Gerudo sat on her ass while there was a worthy fight to be had?

It wasn't fair that they expected it of her! It wasn't fair at all!

It's because they're not Gerudo, she thought bitterly to herself. And Nabooru can't go against them on this. They don't understand … I can't just sit here!

They really didn't understand, and she had no way of making them. Agahnim has insulted her personally. He had dared to touch those few people within her inner circle of what anyone else would have called family but for which Neesha had never bothered to assign a name. It didn't matter what they were, she knew who they were and what they meant to her and that was all that mattered.

And Agahnim had damaged that circle – maybe beyond repair.

That kind of assault … that kind of direct challenge couldn't go unanswered. It couldn't!

It won't, she assured herself. I won't let it.

But what could she do? Now that Link (that bastard. That unbelievable bastard) had added his voice to those barring her from the fight (not that it had been as simple as that. Not that she would have let it be as simple as that. She had ranted and railed and screamed until her throat was hoarse, but he wouldn't be budged – not with the Sages laying guilt trips on him from every possible angle), there was really no hope. Link was her King after all, and to go against his order would amount to nothing but shame.

She froze in mid-step.

But he hadn't ordered her, had he?

In fact he'd been very careful not to. He always was. It was extraordinarily important to him that he didn't, she knew that for a fact. Even with the other Gerudo he rarely issued orders, preferring to let them ultimately make their own choices about the matter at hand. He claimed it was easy to ignore orders from someone else, but not so easy to ignore a choice you had made yourself; easy to betray a leader, impossible to betray yourself.

And after all, what would sitting here and letting Link go off on his own (seeing as she never really let the Sages or the Elite intrude on any of her mental calculations. If he wasn't with her or Hunter, he was on his own as far as she was concerned) be, if not betraying herself and that little circle of people who were important to her? If Link died and she hadn't been there to at least try to save him, Hunter would never forgive her.

And if Link died, who would rescue Hunter?

And she really didn't want to pass-up an opportunity to laugh in Hunter's face because he got himself captured like some Hylian Princess. What if they rescued Hunter at the same time as dealing with Agahnim? It was possible, wasn't it? It's not like they knew where Agahnim was hiding them. Maybe they were there somehow.

How could she just sit there and not try and rescue Hunter, and not go and protect Link, and just let her little circle go out into the world without so much as a shield to be whittled down further than it already was?

Few things in life, she knew, were easy. Dealing with the backlash from disobeying would not be easy. Sneaking out and following undetected would not be easy. Standing her ground against the onslaught of care and concern and unbending will set against her would not be easy (though she was determined to make it look as though it was) …

But the answer to that simple little question …

That was easy.

Her eyes narrowed in determination and she resolutely changed direction.

She couldn't.

And that was just too bad for everyone else.

xxx

"What do you think, Highness?" Rue asked, then paused when she received no response. "Highness?" She leaned forward to peer over the arm of the couch and made a disgruntled noise when she realized her king was curled up into a little ball and fast asleep. "Goddess," she muttered. "It's the Sheikah in him, I swear." She glanced over at Thomas, who was also curled up and asleep. Dune offered her a wry smile.

"Actually, I believe it's a quality of youth," she said. "The ability to stay up all night if there's fun to be had, but the instant it involves work …"

"Let them be," Sahasrahla said, waving both women off. "They've both had a rough time of it and deserve a bit of rest." He studied the sleeping Hero for a moment, a thoughtful frown on his face.

"You two know him better than I," he said. "How long do you expect him to wait before taking matters into his own hands?"

"To tell you the truth I'm surprised he's lasted this long," Dune said with a sigh. "He's impetuous at best and when he makes up his mind to do something there's little you can do to stop him. I know it drives Impa insane, anyway." Rue gave a short laugh.

"You should see Nabooru," she said, then addressed Sahasrahla. "She's right. I'm surprised as well that he hasn't already gone – not to mention that he refused to take Neesha – and it's impossible to say for sure how much longer he'll wait." She sat back in her chair and frowned down at her young King's blonde head. "But to tell you the truth I think there's something holding him back."

"What do you mean?" Sahasrahla asked, peering curiously at her. Rue cocked her head to the side as she studied Link.

"I'm not sure," she answered honestly. "He just … he lacks his usual fervour. His usual … decisiveness. He's acting … well, it reminds me of when he first came to us, however many years ago now. Before we'd rescued the Sages from Castletown. Before the United Army of Hyrule was any more than just words and ideas and hopes. He'd only just regained his memories of being the Hero of Time, and he was still uncertain of himself. Ah," she said. "That's it. He is uncertain. I haven't seen that in him for a while, and I have to admit it concerns me that it is there now."

"He does seem rather sure of himself most of the time," Sahasrahla agreed. "It's been a while since we've had a hero of such candour."

"Candour," Dune said wryly, "doesn't even begin to describe our Hero."

"Well, at any rate," Sahasrahla said, leaning back in his chair, "I believe Rue is right to be concerned. I've had little more than an observational role in the lives of the last few Heroes to be sure, but what I have observed is that whatever their individual failings, the instincts of a Hero are not to be doubted. If Link is feeling uncertain in a situation in which he would normally be quite certain, it is likely a cause for concern for us all." As though to punctuate the mage's words, Link made a small, unhappy sound and turned his face further into the cushion of the couch, in the grip of some unfriendly dream they could only wonder at.

"Do you really think the children might be in the Dark World?" Dune asked after a moment, looking distinctly unhappy with the thought. Neither Sahasrahla nor Rue looked any happier.

"I think," Sahasrahla said plainly, "that it is a strong possibility. It would account for the Sages being unable to sense the Sage of Forest. It would account for our inability to locate the missing maidens. It would account for Thomas' description of the sending Agahnim is using. It answers all of our questions."

"Except one," Rue said grimly. "How do we get them back? The Dark World is no easy place to access. The Seals the Sages have placed have effectively limited our ability to travel back and forth between the worlds, and even if they hadn't who would want to?"

"We might not have a choice but to figure out a way," Dune says darkly. "If it's true, then the only way to close up the portals again is to rescue the maidens, and if they're in the Dark World …"

"But there's no way through," Sahasrahla mused. "Not for us. Agahnim's spell will have only bent the seals, not broken them. He can allow things out, but I'd bet my life he hasn't left us a way in. He will have bent them on the inside only. To get in from the outside you'll still need to meet the requirements."

"Requirements?" Dune asked.

"Purity and power," Rue responded with a sigh. "Maiden sages. Good maiden sages. An evil maiden is evil still, and her purity is tainted. Those were the conditions set on the seals by the Sages when they were made." Dune made a face.

"Why set conditions at all?" She demanded.

"Because you have to," murmured a sleepy voice from her side. She blinked and looked down at Thomas who yawned widely and rubbed his eyes. "Magic is made to be broken, the same way cages are made to be unlocked. Spells are structured with locks that require specific keys to break them, that's just the way it is." Rue and Sahasrahla both gave him an appraising look as he pulled himself up into a seated position.

"That's correct," Rue said, looking minorly impressed with him. "The Sages had to put conditions on it – there was no way not to – so they picked something that would not be attainable by anything within the dark world that we didn't want coming out. It's the same reason why Agahnim had to create a way to break the spell shielding the Master Sword. Why he made the pendants. The spell requires a … key, as your son put it." She raised an eyebrow at Thomas. "Where did you learn that, boy?"

"Agahnim," Thomas responded quietly. "It was one of the first things he taught me. How long have I been asleep for?"

"Long enough," Dune answered easily. "Did we wake you?" Thomas shook his grey head.

"No, no," he said, yawning again. "I just … don't sleep much any more." Dune frowned and squeezed his arm tightly.

"Are you all right?"

"Yes, Mum, I'm fine," he said, shooting an embarrassed look at Rue and Sahasrahla. "I'm …" He paused when his eyes strayed to Link's unhappy form. "Is he all right?" The others turned to survey the Hero who appeared to have been worse off than he was a few minutes before. He'd broken out in a cold sweat and his face was twisted as though in pain. Thomas blinked in surprise. "Where are his pants?"

"He didn't come with any. Rue, maybe you should wake him up," Dune suggested. Rue nodded and reached out to shake him awake, but it proved unnecessary. Before her hand had even touched him, he woke himself up, throwing himself violently off the couch with a gasp and an oath when he hit the ground. He clutched the back of his head and curled up into a ball on the floor.

"Nayru, Farore and Din," he snarled. The other all exchanged a surprised glance.

"Highness?" Rue said hesitantly. Link gasped and started, twisting into a seated position and giving her a startled, wide-eyed stare, as though he'd been unaware that there were other people in the room.

"Rue?" He demanded. He made a face and fell back onto his back, rubbing his face hard. "Goddess."

"Link are you all right?" Dune asked, concern in her voice.

"No," he returned in a voice of abject misery. "I'm really not."

"Anything we can do?" She asked.

"Don't think so," he said with a groan as he pulled himself back up and to his feet, dropping himself back onto the couch. "No wait, I take that back," he said. "You can make sure I don't fall asleep again."

xxx

She was soaked to the skin and breathing hard by the time she made it to the stables. The horses who weren't asleep all looked up as she slipped in the door, nickering softly and flattening their ears at the sudden flash of lightning through the crack in the door. She paused a moment to wipe the water out of her face before continuing, suddenly glad for the thick Sheikan uniform she wore – though she'd never admit it out loud. The uniform that had formerly belong to Bel (or Mel. Wasn't like she could tell the difference). The way she figured it, they owed her anyway. If it hadn't been for her they would still be blindly following Agahnim's orders. The least they could do would be to give her their uniform – whether knowingly or unknowingly – in return.

She could have asked, she supposed, and truth be told she'd considered it … any other time they likely would have agreed. But they were in way too much trouble as it was and she doubted even the irrepressible twins would be willing to shake things up this soon.

So she'd just stolen it. She'd need it more than they would anyway. It wasn't like she could just waltz into Castletown dressed like a Gerudo; they'd arrest her on the spot and then Agahnim would have her and that would be the end of it. She wasn't stupid. So she would disguise herself as a Sheikah and make things that much easier on herself.

Not that she was making anything easy.

She was in so much trouble when she was found out.

She just prayed that it would be too late by the time anyone found out to do anything about it.

She came to a stop at the end of the stables. Two long rows of purebred Gerudo horses lived under this roof. Two long rows of powerful, black perfection, unmarred except for the very last stall, which had no door at Link's insistence. In this stall was nothing but a little reddish coloured mare who the Gerudo had made merciless fun of when she had first claimed this stall for her own.

They hadn't laughed for long, however.

Epona and Link had single-handedly outrun every horse in this stable, and that was saying something. If – when Link came after her, she wouldn't be able to outrun him.

So she had to make sure she was well on her way before he came after her.

Epona blinked down at Neesha with large, chocolate coloured eyes and whinnied hopefully at her.

"Shhh," she hissed, quietly releasing the latch on the stall beside Epona's; this one held a horse already outfitted with a saddle and the rest of its tack. There were always a few kept ready in case of a Moblin raid or other reason they might be needed. "Link's not coming, all right? I'm by myself." She rolled her eyes at herself for even bothering to talk to the beast, but Link always did and it was hard not to pick up his inane habits. "He'll come for you later." She slipped inside the stall and patted the horse's nose distractedly before pulling her bag out from under her cloak and fastening it to the saddle. She pushed her hood back and sighed, grabbing the elastic in her hair and pulling it out in one smooth motion.

Ponytails, she knew for a fact, were not 'in style' in Castletown at the moment. The Hylians preferred to wear their hair down and in their face and tangled all around them so it could hamper all your movement and keep you from doing anything useful with yourself. She hastily ran her fingers through it – wishing briefly, but fervently that she was an elite so at least it would be short and simple instead of half-way down her back – and then shoved it back under her hood.

Oh if Hunter could see her now.

She grabbed the horse's reigns and led him out of the stall, ignoring Epona's whinny (a whinny which sounded distinctly jealous) as she went. She walked out of the stables, pulling the horse behind her, then shut the door as quietly as she had opened it. She would have to be careful with the horse until they were past the storm – she couldn't make him run, or he might break a leg in the mud if they strayed off the beaten path – but once they were in the clear …

She had been told she couldn't go with Link and the others when they went to Castletown and she was technically obeying that. Going ahead of wasn't going with. Waiting for wasn't accompanying. She pulled herself up onto the horse's back, ignoring the rain that was already in her face again.

She was risking a lot by doing this; judging by the sudden crack of thunder the sky and storm agreed.

This was going to hold her back as far as making the White. This would hold her back years. You needed to be disciplined to be a member of the Elite, and sneaking out in the middle of the night, disguised as a Sheikah, and going against the implied orders of the King and Nabooru would not be seen as disciplined.

But some things, Neesha knew, came before her own ambitions.

Some things were worth it.

She dug her heels into the horses flank and urged it on, into the night.

There was no looking back now.

xxx

Chapter 11 (cont.)

"What is it?" I ask, taking the bundle carefully from Sahasrahla.

"A mirror that reflects things you might not see otherwise," he answers.

"Like the Eye of Truth?" I ask, unwrapping it carefully. Sahasrahla raises an eyebrow.

"You know of the Eye of Truth, do you?" He asks. "An old and powerful item that." I throw him a grin.

"Know of it?" I ask. "I own it at the moment, actually." He looks surprised for a moment, then laughs.

"I suppose I shouldn't be surprised," he says. "To answer your question, no. Not really like the Eye of Truth – supposing of course the Eye of Truth does what it is rumoured to do."

"Let's me see things otherwise hidden by magic."

"Well," Sahasrahla says. "The mirror won't help you see through magic. What it shows you instead is a glimpse inside your nature." A troubled look passes his face. "Once upon a time it showed good things. It would reflect all of your virtues back at you. But for the last two decades or so it's shown the opposite." I pull the mirror out and admire the back of it. It's silver, with intricate little engravings around the edges and down the handle. The symbol of the Sheikah stares unblinkingly from the centre of it. It's beautiful, but unsettling. I don't know why, but it makes me feel reluctant to turn it over.

"Should I look?" I ask him. He makes a neutral gesture.

"The choice is yours, Hero," he says, "but I warn you now that most people find the image displayed upsetting. It will show you a dark side of yourself that you may or may not be able to come to terms with. Some people have, and some people haven't. Your father couldn't so much as look at the mirror after looking into it."

"What did he see?" I ask, tracing the Sheikan eye without turning the mirror over.

"I don't know," Sahasrahla answers. "He never said, and I never asked. It's a very personal thing, and nobody's business but his."

"Dark Link," I say without so much as a doubt. "I bet you any money it was Dark Link, he saw." I shake my head. "No wonder he couldn't look at it."

I hesitate for just a moment before setting the mirror back down and wrapping it up again without so much as glancing at the glass.

"There's a piece missing," Rue says, sharp-eyed as ever despite her age. "There's a little round depression on the front of it."

"Ah yes," Sahasrahla says, holding up his hands to stop me as I move to hand it back. "No, no, my boy. You keep it for now. It may come in handy for you in the future." He turns back to Rue. "The mirror originally had a Moon Pearl set into it, but its been lost for centuries."

"A moon pearl!" Rue says, eyes alight suddenly. "I didn't think such things still existed!"

"So far as I know it's the only one that hasn't been expended for spells of one kind or another," Sahasrahla replies. "Though even that isn't guaranteed, as I've said, I lost it a long time ago." Rue snorts derisively.

"How do you lose a Moon Pearl, old man?" She demands. "One of that size would have been worth more than you've earned even in a lifetime as long as yours."

"What's a Moon Pearl?" Thomas asks, a hint of his old eagerness playing around his eyes.

"It's a jewel of incredible power," Sahasrahla answers him. "They can be used for magic spells that require more power than any mortal could ever give, they can be used to resist magical effects, to enhance them, to block them. Just having one can protect you from all sorts of things."

"Where do they come from?" Thomas asks. "How come I've never heard of them before?"

"They're rare," Sahasrahla answers. "More than rare – they may very well be non-existent by now. And each one is unique unto itself. There hasn't been one recorded since I lost mine however long ago. As for where they come from, well," he leaned back in his chair, "there's an old Hylian legend that says they dropped from the moon aeons ago – hence the name. There's a Sheikan legend that says they're actually the tears which Farore shed when the first of her creations died. So great was her grief that even her tears carried the desire to protect the life she had so carefully cultivated – which is apparently why any who possess one are so well protected against any variety of things which might otherwise cause death." Rue nods.

"The Gerudo have a similar myth," she says. "Though it's all nonsense. No one knows how or why the Moon Pearls were created."

"What did this Moon Pearl do?" Dune asks. Sahasrahla hesitated.

"Suffice it to say," he says, "the mirror used to do more than just show you your inner nature – dark or otherwise. And the Moon Pearl used to be the key to those powers. But … without the jewel there's no point in me going into the other uses for the mirror – they're complicated, and impossible now anyway."

"Why give the mirror to me?" I ask, peering quizzically at the bundle. "Not that I'm not grateful, it's just … why?" Sahasrahla heaves a heavy sigh.

"The easy answer is simply that you are the Hero of Time, and such artefacts are usually most useful in the hands of one such as you – as evidenced by the overwhelming number of artefacts you seem to possess."

"And the hard answer?" I ask, staring intently at him. He sighs again.

"The hard answer," he says, "is that if it is as we fear, and Agahnim has sent the maidens to the Dark World, then you may soon be needing a reminder of … well … of a lot of things."

His answer is cryptic and impenetrable and sets my stomach into a complicated series of loop-de-loops, but I don't question him further. I'm in a dour enough mood without trying to decipher any depressing riddles.

"Right," I say. "Well, thanks, I guess. I'll slip it into my pouch whenever I go back to my room. I'm sure it'll come in handy."

"At any rate," Sahasrahla says, getting wearily to his feet. "The sun will be up in a few hours, and I'm an old man who needs his rest. We'll accomplish little else tonight except to run in the same circles we have been, so we'd best all get to bed. Rue, my dear, would you mind showing me where my room is? Your fortress is a tad … confusing at times."

"Everything is confusing when you're senile," Rue sniffs. "And no. Dune can show you. You know where it is?"

"I think so," Dune says, getting to her feet with a nod, Thomas following suit. "It's right near ours."

"Thank you, m'dear," Sahasrahla says, gesturing for her to lead the way. Dune does and they all file out, one by one, wishing us a good night (though good morning is perhaps more appropriate) as they go. I turn to Rue once the door is shut.

"What about you?" I ask. "Aren't you tired?"

"No more tired than you look." I pause.

"I look awful, don't I?" I ask. She nods.

"Absolutely terrible," she agrees.

"Then why don't you go to bed?" I say. "You don't need to stay up."

"But you do?" She asks, a shrewd expression on her face. "I am wondering why? It has been a while since your dreams have been as violent as that last appeared to be. And if the fact that you were up and wandering around the halls in a dazed stupor is any indication, I'd say it's not the first you've had tonight. Is something, wrong Highness?"

"Not really," I answer evasively. Rue raises an eyebrow.

"Old and tired, I may be, Highness," she observes, "but I will beat it out of you if that's what it takes." I meet her gaze for a moment and consider my options.

I can tell her nothing, in which case she likely will proceed to try and beat it out of me – if nothing else, this route will keep me awake.

I can tell her everything (I'm pretty sure Agahnim's sending me nightmares, Thomas says he's setting some kind of trap for me, I have an overwhelming feeling that something is going to go wrong, etc.), in which case she would be pretty much honour-bound (not to mention she'd be pretty stupid not to) to go straight to the Sages, explain everything, and then proceed, for my own protection, to lock me up with Neesha and not let me anywhere near Agahnim – this route gets me absolutely nothing.

I can tell her half, in which case she might actually be able to help me with the nightmares, and assuage my fears about what's to come, without really needing to know that Agahnim's waiting to spring some kind of trap on me – this route would seem to be my best bet. I swallow my hesitation.

"I think … is it possible to give someone nightmares through magic?" I ask. "From a distance?" Rue raises an eyebrow.

"You suspect the wizard is tampering with your dreams?" I nod. She frowns. "Are you sure they are not of the prophetic nature? You've had such in the past when the situation is dire."

"I'm sure," I say. "I … those are repetitive. They never really change. These ones … they're different every time, but always … always bad."

"And you're sure they aren't just bad dreams brought on by stress and worry and concern?"

"Yes," I say. "I'm sure. They're not mine." Rue's frown deepens.

"He is a very powerful wizard if he is infecting your dreams from this distance," she says. "But yes, it possible." She leans back in her chair and frowns thoughtfully. "He is perhaps trying to limit your effectiveness by denying you sleep. A clumsy plan at best, though I suppose given your stubborn nature it would have a decent chance of success." She looks unhappy with that answer, but I'd rather she not pursue that line of thinking any further than she already has.

"Well, at the rate I'm going it's going to work," I say quickly. "I can barely keep my eyes open, but if I fall asleep, it'll only be for a few minutes before I'm awake again." I suppress a shudder. "And I can't take much more of those dreams." Rue considers for a moment.

"Well," she says, "powerful he may be, but he's no match for a sleeping draught, I'm sure. Not in this case, anyway." I blink at her.

"You mean you can fix it?" I ask. "I won't dream?"

"You'll be too far into deep sleep for dreams to trouble you, highness," she says. "But not much will wake you either until it's worn off." I lean over and give her an impulsive hug, awkward because of the angle, but genuine nonetheless. She rolls her eyes, gives an annoyed sigh, and pats my head with reluctant affection, like she always does whenever I display any kind of outward attachment to her. I pull back and grin at her.

"You're the best," I say. She offers me a rare half-smile.

"I know," she says.

xxx

A Brief Interlude

Marni froze with her hand on the servants' path door.

She had tossed and turned all night over what the Princess had told her. That Agahnim was evil, that the Princess was in danger, that she needed Marni to give something to Sir Link … a part of her was excited – it was like something out of an adventure novel, really. Evil wizards, damsels in distress, secret messages – but another part of her was scared out of her wits. This wasn't an adventure novel. And even if it was, she was hardly the heroine, and was in fact, just the messenger, and if life imitated art at all (and she was reasonably sure it did) then she would be one of the first to die in some tragic, upcoming battle, and although it would be sort of romantic to die while trying to do something for her kingdom and her princess, the fact of the matter was she really didn't want to die, and if she did who would take care of Cota?

She always had been 9 parts hopeless romantic, 1 part practical, and sometimes the practical just ruined everything.

It didn't change her decision to help the princess, it just turned her stomach into knots and ruined whatever enjoyment she might have had from actually being in one of the situations she'd always day dreamed about. It liked to remind her that she wasn't anything special, she was just a servant girl, and what could she possibly hope to contribute to the affairs of wizards and princesses and heroes, exactly?

But she really didn't have a choice – not and be able to live with herself.

So she had resolved to see it through. First thing in the morning she would bundle Cota up and send him off to some distant relations in Kakariko, and then she would go bring the Princess her breakfast, pick up the parchment for Link, and pretend everything was normal until he came. Once she'd given him the parchment she would leave as well, straight for Kakariko, and she wouldn't come back until Princess Zelda was on the throne again, and the events that belonged in her daydreams had once again fled reality and rooted themselves firmly in her dreams once more and she could go back to being 9 parts hopeless romantic.

But she couldn't leave without warning Liam about Agahnim. Oh, she wouldn't tell him about the Princess, or the parchment, or her plans to leave, or any of that. But she liked Liam, he'd always been nice to her and there was once a time when she'd thought he may have even been kind of sweet on her, and she couldn't stand the thought of him being manipulated by Agahnim. Maybe if he knew that Agahnim was evil …

And that was more or less what had brought her to the door that led out into the hallway near Liam's room at somewhere near 3 o'clock in the morning. She had planned on waking him up and talking with him and hopefully bringing him around, but through the door she could hear his voice, and for some reason, she froze. Something stayed her hand – some chill of the air, some feeling of imminent danger, some buried alive instinct left over from the times when people were little more than animals that set the hair on her arm to rising and a shiver running down her back.

There was danger here.

She froze, and she listened.

Liam was speaking.

"I will have the Princess moved to your chambers first thing in the morning," he was saying. "Will you need anything for your preparations?"

"No," answered a voice that sounded like Agahnim – though it wasn't anywhere near the wizard's usual dulcet, charming, smooth tones. This voice was dry, and dusty, and sounded the way a dead thing smelled. Marni's stomach clenched at the sound and a thrill of fear shot like electricity through her body. She held her breath, terrified they'd know she was there. "Only time. The Hero will arrive tomorrow. I don't know when, my vision was not that specific, but it will take some time for me to prepare the spell. If he arrives early, see to it that he does not make it to my chambers until I have given you word that I am ready."

"Yes master," Liam said. Marni felt something twinge in her heart. Liam had called Agahnim master. Why had he said that? Agahnim's title was Lord, not Master.

"Who has seen the princess? Who knows she is down there?"

"Only myself and the servant girl who brings her meals."

"Good," Agahnim says. "Bring the Princess to my chambers in the morning. Make sure none see you. Wait for the servant girl tomorrow and when she comes get rid of her." There was a brief pause.

"But … she doesn't know …"

"Liam," Agahnim snapped, "do not question me. Kill the girl. We will blame it on the Hero when he comes." There was no pause this time.

"Yes master."

That something that twinged in Marni's heart at the sound of Liam calling him master broke this time and it took all her strength to keep her knees from buckling. She covered her mouth with her free hand to hold back a sob.

Liam and Agahnim moved on down the hall, discussing other things which Marni neither heard, nor cared about. She pulled her hand back from the knob and stumbled back into the wall of the servants' paths.

Liam was going to kill her.

Just like that.

Because Agahnim had told him to.

She sank down in the hallway and hugged her knees tightly to her chest, burying her face in them, chocking back her sobs but unable to stop the tears.

What was she going to do?

Run, that's what she had to do. She had to run straight back home, wake up Cota, get him in his things, grab whatever they could carry, and run. There were no wagons going in and out at this time of night, so they'd have to walk. She could lie to the guard at the gate to make them put it down for her. Tell them their mother in Kakariko was sick or something and they had to go. She didn't know where they'd go from there. They'd find her in Kakariko. They'd find her anywhere, except the desert of course, that was out of their reach, and the Gerudo would never take her in.

Her eyes snapped open at that thought.

The Gerudo … Sir Link … the Princess …

Her breath began to come in short, quick gasps.

She had to deliver the Princess' parchment. She had promised she would. She had promised her princess. For generations her family had served the Royal Family … she was bound to the Princess Zelda, she had to help! She couldn't just abandon her Princess! That would be betrayal of a worse sort than Liam agreeing to kill her in cold blood.

She would shame her whole family.

She would betray all of Hyrule.

"But I'm just a girl," she whispered to herself. "I'm just a girl and he's going to kill me. This is too much, it's too dangerous! I'm not … I'm not a hero. I have to … I have to …" Her voice trailed off.

She had to what? Run and hide? And just let the Princess, and Link, and everyone else be hurt by the wizard? Let Agahnim … let Agahnim just take over? What would happen to Hyrule if Agahnim won? If Link and Zelda and everything good and right in the world failed, all because a stupid little girl got scared and ran away? Why kind of world would it be?

A dark one, that's what. One she didn't want Cota to have to live in.

Cota …

How would she explain to him, years from now, when they were all under Agahnim's rule and the world was an awful, frightening place where old friends killed people they had once cared about, and good people were locked up in dungeons, and heroes were treated like criminals, that it was her fault? Because she hadn't been brave enough?

There comes a time in your life, her father used to say to her before he died, when you are faced with a choice – the choice of who you are, and who you're going to be. It won't be an easy one, Marni, it never is, but you'll have to make it just the same. And you'll have to live with it. You won't know when, you won't know how, but you'll know it when you see it, and you won't get a second chance. All you can do, is choose your path, and walk it. And if you choose right, you'll walk it with your head held high and purpose in your step and all the world will know you for the person you have chosen to be – the person you are.

She liked to imagine in her darkest moments that he was with her still, leaning over her shoulder and guiding her. This was one of those times, and this, she knew, was her choice.

Who are you, Marni? She could hear him ask. Choose. Who are you?

"I am Marni," she whispered to herself, "daughter of Cam and Rhea of Hyrule, sister to Cota, and loyal to none but the Royal Family of Hyrule." She pushed herself unsteadily to her feet, wiping her face with a trembling hand.

Her original plan could still work. She would go to the princess now, get the parchment, then get Cota bundled up and ready to leave first thing in the morning. She would hide somewhere and wait for Sir Link and then leave, just like she'd planned.

And if Liam caught her? If they found out what she was doing? They were willing to kill her without even knowing what she'd agreed to. What would they do to her if they found that out?

Choose your path, and walk it with your head held high.

She took the first, trembling step towards the dungeons and the princess and whatever fate awaited her there, and though they never got any less frightening, each one after that was easier than the previous.

She had chosen her path.

She could only hope it was the right one.