After they'd eaten, Link could not help but shift restlessly against his pillows, his feelings of guilt still gnawing at him. Though Hena had assured him otherwise, Link could not shake his misgivings about staying. Being bedridden only made his mood worse; without a way to vent, he was trapped in his own mind until further notice. Trying to distract himself, he watched Hena from across the room.

She was at the window staring out at the evening pond. Link envied the signs of relaxation that softened the lines of her body as she leaned against the sill, legs crossed and head tipped to the side. But he also noted the tension in her shoulders and the darkness beneath her eyes, and he he felt a twinge of sympathy. As he watched, she turned her head and lay her brown gaze upon him thoughtfully. She must have seen the restlessness in his posture, because she smiled slightly and said, "Got a bit of cabin fever, huh?"

Link shrugged, not understanding.

"If I let you outside, will you run off?" she joked, although Link saw real worry hanging like shadows behind her eyes.

He shook his head, holding her gaze. He wouldn't hurt her like that again. Not if he could help it. The realization hit him like a Goron-thrown stone: maybe he was not afraid of risking Hena to the Twili monsters. Maybe he was afraid of how he might hurt her. Link shuddered and tried to push that incriminating thought away.

"Let's go sit by the pond, then, yeah?" Hena suggested gently.

Link glanced down at his bandages, but Hena saw his motion and said, "The water's done enough that you should be able to move around a bit without…you know." The slight wince on her face told enough. Link tried to banish the lingering memories of his recent faceplant.

"I'll help you, just to be safe," Hena decided.

Link opened his mouth to protest as she crossed to his bedside, but Hena shushed him. "Give me your arm," she murmured, settling beside him and leaning in so that he could loop an arm across her shoulders. She wrapped one of hers around his middle, careful to avoid his bandages. His ears burned in embarrassment as he struggled to his feet, Hena bearing a portion of his weight. 'Hyrule's hero reduced to a tottering cripple.' He sighed sharply in frustration as he straightened up and his head went light.

"Go slow," Hena said kindly but firmly. "You're not invincible."

Link only grunted in answer. He moved to the door without a hitch, legs acclimating to carrying his weight once again. He was loath to admit to himself how thankful he was for Hena's arm encircling his waist. The press of her body against his was comforting. He looked down at her briefly, feeling his heart twist with that unfamiliar emotion.

Hena felt his gaze and tipped her head up to him questioningly. Their faces were very near. The caramel of her irises was warm and open and Link found himself trapped in them for a moment. Her freckles gradually faded beneath a blush. A few heartbeats passed before she squeezed his hand briefly, snapping him out of his reverie.

She smiled at his surprised blink. "I'm glad you decided to stick around," she said. Link was given the feeling that there was a depth to those words, as if she were somehow baring her heart to him.

He still felt a needle of guilt, but it faded a bit every time he let himself melt into Hena's comforting presence. He squeezed her hand back to communicate what he couldn't yet say.

They left the cabin and crossed the porch at a snail's pace. The fresh air made Link feel better immediately. He looked up, studying the golden sky as a breeze skimmed over the distant cliff and dropped down into their sanctuary to brush his face. The sun was on its way toward the horizon, and its light streaked the clouds with orange and red. In the peace of the pond and Hena's presence, Link was almost able to forget that twilight was coming soon.

Almost.

The fisherwoman led him down the grassy slope toward the dock and helped him down onto the plush bank beside it. The grass was just as soft as Hena's lent mattress, but smelled of nature and freedom. Link settled back into it carefully, cradling his midriff so as to mind his wound.

Hena saw his gingerness and her brows slanted in concern. "Is it bleeding?" she asked.

Link shook his head. He patted the ground beside him, and Hena came to sit cross-legged in the indicated spot. "You'll tell me if it does, yeah?" she pressed, not mollified.

Link looked at her sideways and nodded. Hena's shoulders finally relaxed, and she grinned crookedly, her dimples showing. "Can never be too careful with you, Lincoln. You could be stampeded by a herd of horses and still tell me you're fine."

Link gave a noncommittal shrug in good humor. Hena elbowed him with mock irritation, but mindfully kept her touch gentle. Link felt his chest tingle warmly. Was this what Hena meant by 'the beautiful things'? Sharing a bit of playful banter by the water's edge as the sun dipped lazily toward the cliffs, worries of the world seeming far away, the two of them simply enjoying their closeness…

Link slid a look at the fisherwoman, studying the way the light of the sunset traced her profile fantastically. Her eyes were as clear as ever and reflected a touch of honey gold in their brown depths. Her lips were curved in a soft smile, and Link could practically see the glow of serenity radiating from her form.

For a long moment, both of them were quiet. Hena was the first one to break the lull, but she did so in a quiet voice, almost reverently:

"You know, I kind of like twilight," she reflected.

Link swallowed down a sudden pang of anxiety. Peace never lasted very long for him. He forced himself to ask, "Why?"

Hena leaned back on the plush grass, supporting herself on her elbows. Her head was tilted thoughtfully as she regarded the molten sky. "It's just…profound," she mused. "It's a time where two opposites blend together and the world all kind of compromises. You don't see that anywhere else."

Link still watched her, but he said nothing. Hena twirled a strand of hair around her finger as a hint of a blush colored her cheeks. "I know I sound like a crazy person, but it just means something special to me," she murmured.

Link looked down and worked his jaw slowly, searching for the right words. The radiant, heavy twilight atmosphere and the chaos of his recovering mind were beginning to do things to him. Dangerous thoughts were tugging insistently at his awareness. Out here, it felt as if he and Hena were the only ones in the world. Nothing could touch them. Nothing could hurt them.

Nothing was stopping him from telling her everything: what the beasts were that had nearly killed them; what the twilight really meant to him; why it wasn't easy to stay with Hena despite his growing feelings for her. She deserved answers. Link just wasn't sure where to start.

When he finally raised his eyes to hers, she had grown somber. He wondered how much of his thoughts she could guess at.

"Some say," he began cautiously, "that the twilight is a time when the dead come close to the living."

Hena made a face. "I know. I kind of avoid looking at it that way; my dead grandpa was such a codfish."

Link's jaw dropped slightly. Seeing his horror, Hena backtracked quickly, "Don't look at me like that! I'm kidding." She settled back on her hands and looked at him with a careful kind of intensity. "But really…I think twilight is really a time for the living. Otherwise it wouldn't be so beautiful."

Link held her gaze silently. He wanted to believe her. Twilight had haunted him for so long as a reminder, a symbol of his struggle between life and death. His burdens were heavy, and twilight always made him very aware of their weight. He never knew what monsters the night may bring. He never knew if he would live to see the sun rise again.

But Hena had a different way of looking at it. Maybe twilight was not something that made Link who he was. Perhaps instead, Link could dictate what the twilight was.

Right now, studying the planes of Hena's kind face cast in the gold of the lowering sun, Link felt that he was the one molding the twilight instead of the other way around.

Link didn't answer her. Instead, slowly, he extended his hand. His heart was jumping. It was novel to him that he could face beasts and monsters without panicking, but a woman made him positively nervous.

He reached across the remaining distance. Lightly, his fingers touched hers.

Hena's caramel eyes widened, but the blush that began to hide her freckles was not disapproving.

Link felt the tips of his own ears heat up. His stomach did a twist, but he would not turn back now. He slid his hand over hers to cover it gently.

Hena let her eyes drift down to the point of contact. She chewed her lower lip as if deep if thought. Then as Link watched with bated breath, she turned her hand over tentatively so that their palms faced one another. It was she who gently laced her fingers with Link's first. She hesitated a moment before she looked back up at him and let a smile begin to spread over her face.

"Hena," said Link softly, treasuring the feeling of her hand in his. He looked at her steadily. "I won't hide it anymore."

"Hide…?"

"What I do. With that sword." He nodded toward the cabin where he knew the Master Sword was leaning on the wall, practically humming with divine energy.

Hena sat forward, her face growing serious and attentive. "Shoot," she welcomed.

"Those dark beasts that attacked us…" —Hena's face paled slightly at the mention, but she said nothing— "they're called Twili.

"There are tyrants from another realm trying to take over Hyrule. With twilight. Only waking the Light Spirits can make it lift. Princess Zelda and a princess of the Twili—a good one—are trying to defeat the ones behind it."

Hena's lips were parted as she tried to absorb his short, broken account. "And you…?"

"I am…their hands."

"So, tell me if I'm wrong—you're working for a couple of magic princesses to fight some nasty blokes from an evil twilight realm in order to save the whole kingdom?" Her clear brown eyes were wide.

Link looked away. Then he nodded.

Hena squeezed his hand, leaning in. "That's incredible! And no one knows what's going on?" she asked.

Link's jaw muscles went tight. "Just us and the monsters. When…when regular people are caught in the twilight realm, they turn into spirits. But they don't remember it."

Hena watched him, trying to understand.

"Most of Hyrule was covered in twilight, at the beginning," Link continued, trailing off.

"So nobody would know if they'd been enveloped in that twilight stuff and turned into spirits. Or that you saved them?" she questioned.

Link looked at her quietly. His silence was an affirmative. Slowly Hena followed the thought logically, and her expression grew more and more disturbed as she put the pieces together. "You're saying…I wouldn't remember that either."

Link nodded, still silent.

Hena found his gaze. "Link, was I a spirit?"

Again, a slow nod.

Suddenly Hena fell back, and Link was alarmed until he saw her let out an explosive sigh and toss her arms over her head dramatically. She lay on her back, staring at the sky as the natural twilight faded and the dark blue of night crept further toward the horizon.

"That's so crazy," she said. "If I were hearing this from anybody else, I'd say you're spinning me a yarn, but—" she glanced at him and he saw that she was at a loss, "—it's you."

Link lowered himself down beside her. Their shoulders touched in the near darkness. He too watched the light die. "So," he said in conclusion, "I'm supposed to save Hyrule from an encroaching evil spirit realm. That's my job."

Hena laughed genuinely, and it almost made Link smile. She tipped her head over slightly to look at him. "That's so much more exciting than running a fishing hole," she said. He saw her grin so that her dimples appeared.

Then she rolled up onto her elbow so that her body faced him. "But seriously," Hena said, "you're fighting a battle for the whole kingdom alone? Doesn't the princess have an army? Or— or—"

Link grunted, "Just guards. All turn to spirits. I'm the one meant to do this."

"But what if…?" she left the question incomplete, but Link guessed her thoughts.

"What if I die," he finished bluntly. He looked down, fiddling absently with the hem of his tunic. "I don't know. I think about that a lot."

Hena frowned deeply. She reached over to brush away a firefly which had tried to land on Link's chest. "How can you live with such a burden, Link? I…I'd break." Her eyes were unsettled as they reflected the last of the sun.

Link sighed, and all his pain was communicated in that one small, empty sound. "Maybe I am broken," he reflected. "But—" He took her hand before she pulled it back from his chest. Turning it over gently, he exposed her wrist, where he ventured to plant a kiss. Then he raised his eyes to hers. "I'm learning to live with it. Because of places like this." He indicated the pond and the grove and the cliffs around them. "And people like you."

Hena tried to speak, but her breath caught and she had to swallow hard before words would come. She was propped up on her elbow facing Link. Now, holding her wrist, he'd brought her even closer. She could see the patterns in his blue irises as he held her gaze.

"That's poetic," she said, wanting to diffuse the tension. But, she realized…she didn't actually want to. Hena's thoughts were moving slower than her instincts.

How did her free hand end up there, stroking back Link's choppy hair?

When did those words come out of her mouth, whispered like a secret?: "You know what? You should quit. The kingdom can go hook itself; I don't want you to die."

When did Link begin to smile?

When did she start to realize how attractive those lips were?

What was controlling her when she gave in to the slight pull on her wrist and leaned down, letting her eyes drift shut, feeling the hero's breath breeze across her cheek?

…Meeting those quiet lips with her own?

...