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19 years ago...

Stifling a yawn, Dylan walked into her mother's bedroom. "What is it you wanted with me, mom? It's only seven o'clock in the morning!"

"The early bird catches the worm," Impa said.

"I hate your maxims, mother. They're so annoying!"

"Well, they're true. Sit down, Dylan. I want to draw you."

"DRAW me?! Whatever for? You know what I look like, why in Din's name should you need a portrait of me?"

"It's not for me," Impa answered. "And for goodness' sakes, don't use the Goddesses names in vain, child! Have I taught you nothing?"

"Sorry mother," Dylan apologized, sitting down on the bed. Impa told her to smile, and she did so. "So if this isn't for you, what's it for?"

"I just finished sewing a blanket for Darryl," Impa explained. "So now I want to draw pictures of all of us and sew them into it. That way, he'll always have his family with him when he goes to sleep."

"But mother, he hasn't even been born yet," Dylan laughed.

"Keep still, will you?" Impa asked, smiling a bit herself.

Dylan found it very hard to keep a straight face while her mother drew her, but she did her best. Then Zelda came bouncing into the room, and leapt on top of the bed next to her mother. "Good morning, mommy," she said.

"Don't move the bed, dear," Impa said. "I'm trying to draw Dylan." She sighed. "So far, she's turning out just like Quentin. She's not smiling. Zelda, will you do something that will make your sister look like she's. . .enjoying herself or something?"

"Okay." Zelda crawled behind Impa's back, and started making faces at her older sister. Dylan started to giggle, finding Zelda's antics quite funny. Impa looked up and smiled brightly.

"Whatever you're doing, it's working, Zelda," Impa said. "Stick around, will you? I want to draw you next. . ."

"Did you do Kathryn and Matthew yet?" Dylan asked, still laughing.

"Kathryn yes, Matthew no," Impa said, trying not to get distracted too much by thinking. "And, if I do say so myself, Kat's turned out quite nicely. And if you stop shaking with laughter, Dylan, yours will come out good too."

"Sorry," Dylan giggled.

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1 year later...

"Look here's another one," said King George. He led his horse over to a wrecked house. "Come Madeline, there may be survivors."

"I don't understand," Queen Madeline sighed, getting off her horse and walking up to the house with her husband. "Why would anyone want to simply kill an entire civilization just because they're. . .different from us?"

"They're not even that different," King George said, attempting to open the door. "If a Sheikah child was raised in another community, they'll grow up just like the people around them. Once they reach the age of fifteen, you'd never know that they were a Sheikah. That's what amazes me the--WHY WON'T THIS BLASTED DOOR OPEN?!" The King pulled the doorknob as hard as he could.

The Queen stepped forward. She gently grasped the doorknob and pushed. The door swung open. Cautiously, the royal pair stepped inside. Queen Madeline pushed the door further, when it something softly.

"What--?" The Queen wondered, shutting the door behind them. She gasped. "George, look! It's a girl!"

King George stepped over. It was Kathryn. "The poor girl. Looks as if one of those soldiers strangled her. . ." He examined the footprints in the dirt surrounding her. "But it looks as if she gave a fair fight. This house must not have been raided too long ago. . .it could've even been last night."

"George, there's someone over there!" Madeline cried, rushing over to Impa's body. The Queen recoiled as she saw blood surrounding the Sheikah corpse. "The poor woman must have been stabbed. . .yes, there's the dagger, look. The blood is mostly wet. They were probably attacked yesterday."

"I'm going to look around the house," King George announced. "There may be others around." He started to search the rooms.

Queen Madeline tenderly took hold of Impa's hand. Several strands of greying hair fell over the dead woman's face, which wore a blank expression. The Queen stroked Impa's hand, wondering desperately who she had been. . .the hands were gentle like those of a caring mother, but also calloused like those of one who worked very hard.

A small cry interrupted the deadly silence. Queen Madeline's head snapped up at the sound of it. Surely it wasn't George, he didn't cry like that. . .it sound like a child's. . .

She heard the cry again. Slowly, the Queen stood up. A baby was softly crying somewhere. Queen Madeline turned around, and her eyes were immediately attracted to the steel cabinet in front of her. As the Queen stepped closer, the cries became more and more audible. She clasped her hand on the knob, but it wouldn't open. She tried again, to no avail. Then she noticed a key hole.

The crying went on. Queen Madeline knew she couldn't just let the child stay in there. She noticed a small drawer that had been left slightly ajar. The Queen wrenched it open, and saw that it was filled with keys. "Which one is it?!" she asked the air.

Queen Madeline carefully examined the key hole. "Don't worry, I'll get you out of there!" she murmured to the child locked inside. "What kind of cruel being would go about locking a baby in a--silver, there it is!"

The drawer was filled with mostly bronze and golden keys. One silver one stuck out, one that matched the steel cabinet's color. Queen Madeline seized it, and jammed it into the key hole. She twisted it, and the door slowly opened. She reached inside, and took out the small child.

It continued to cry. "Don't cry, don't cry," the Queen soothed. "It'll be all right, the raiders are gone. . ." Of course, she knew that nothing would be all right. The child's mother was dead. But slowly, the baby's cries came to a stop.

King George walked back into the room. "I couldn't find anyone else, so I guess that there's--what's that you've got there, Madeline?"

"I just found this baby," his wife explained. "Someone had locked him in that cabinet and I got him out. . ."

"He must've lived here," King George said.

"Thank you, Captain Obvious," the Queen said, giving her husband an annoyed look. "He was crying terribly when I found him, but I think he's gone back to sleep now. I wonder what his name is. . ."

"I found a crib in one of the rooms," King George spoke up. "It had the name Darryl on it."

"Darryl. . ." the Queen muttered to herself. "Darryl. . ." She looked up at the King with hopeful eyes. "Could we. . .could we adopt him, George? Where else will he go? I'm sure Peach and Link won't mind."

King George seemed slightly taken aback. "Adopt him? Madeline, we know nothing of this family or its history! Surely you don't want to just-- "

"But you just told me all about how the Sheikah can adjust to the culture they grow up in! And why couldn't Darryl learn to become Hylian? For heaven's sakes, he's just a baby! PLEASE, George!"

The King sighed and looked down at the baby. "Well, Link has always said that he wanted a little brother. . ."

"And I know Peach would be thrilled to have another chance to push another child around in a baby carrige!" the Queen added, grinning. "Link seems to have outgrown that stage."

"Prine might get jealous," King George joked. "You know Peach's cats always take the priority."

"Oh, Prine and Lucy won't be around that much longer," Queen Madeline said. "Oh but George, can we really take Darryl home with us?"

"Of course we can. Consider him an anniversary present."

"Thank you George, so much!" the Queen cried, looking down at her new child. "Oh, I just know that Peach and Link will be thrilled! And so will Hyrule, I know it! Just wait until I tell Rose that we've gotten another child!"

King George rolled his eyes as the walked out of the house and back onto their horses. Queen Madeline continued to ramble.

"I know Rose just took in another child, but I'm not sure what her name was. All I know is that she's taking away Malon's attention, and that's making that little princess very annoyed. I wonder when we'll see them again."

"Soon, I'm sure," sighed King George. "But for now, let's just worry about getting home. . .the sight of these houses are making me sick."

"Aren't they?" Queen Madeline sniffed. "Who on earth would DO a thing like this? If I ever find out which country or which people are responsible for this, and for killing Darryl's family, I'll--"

"I get the point, dear," the King interrupted. "But right now, we don't know who did it, so just calm down."

Twenty minutes later, the King and Queen were back in their royal chambers. King George tugged lightly at the blanket surrounding his new son. "Just feel this cloth. Not suitable for a prince at all. I'll just get rid of it and get him a new one."

"All right," the Queen agreed. She began to pull the blanket off of Darryl, and jumped slightly. "George, look!"

"What is it?" the King asked, sitting down next to her on the bed. Queen Madeline pulled the blanket off of him completely. "My word!"

There were small pictures sewn into the frail coverlet. Six of them. The Queen gasped. She pointed at Impa's picture. "George, that was the woman I found who had been stabbed!"

"And that's the girl that was strangled," King George said, indicating towards Kathryn. "These other children must be his. . ."

"Family," Queen Madeline finished for him, her eyes watering up. "Oh, they look like they were such a lovely household of people. . .look at that one," she said, smiling and pointing at Dylan. "She looks so happy. They all look so happy. . .well, except for that one boy. He looks a little serious."

"We can't just take this away from him," George sighed. "It must be very special to him and his. . .late. . .family."

"Then let's keep it," Queen Madeline said.

"But we can't let him know that he's not a royal Hylian," King George said. "If we do, he'll. . .well, trust me that he won't look at us the same way ever again. He can never know who he really is."

"Then we won't tell him," the Queen decided. "But he's going to keep this blanket. I want him to have it."

"If it is your wish to do so," King George judged, "then we'll keep it. Come and help me find Link's old crib. He doesn't need it any more, but some one does."

"Yes, let's go."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Present...

"I can't wait for tomorrow!" Darryl squeaked, putting away his sword. He had just been practicing with Link. "The Alteans are coming!"

"Really? I forgot," Link said sarcastically as they headed back towards the castle. "How silly of me."

"Oh come on," Darryl sighed. "Aren't you even the least bit excited?"

"I would be if Rose was coming," Link said. "She was so kind, to me and to everyone else. It's so terrible that she had to pass away."

"Well, she did, I'm afraid." Darryl walked to the door that ultimately led to his bedroom (he had to climb several steps before actually getting there). "Good-night, Link." He grinned. "See you tomorrow."

"Night."

Sighing slightly, Link headed into his room. He lay down on the bed, wanting only to sleep. He didn't bother changing his clothes, even though he knew that his mother would kill him for it--if she ever found out, anyway.

So Malon was coming tomorrow. Great. And Marth too, of course. King George had said that they were planning an "extensive visit," which probably meant that they'd be there for months.

Letting out another troubled sigh, Link turned over. If they were staying for a very long time, they'd probably bring their servants with them. Marth had brought one once. He treated the poor man terribly, and Link felt horrid about it. After that, he was sure that all of his own personal servants never endured anything like it.

"I guess I'll have to just hope for the best," Link thought to himself. Finally, after staring into space for several minutes, sleep took the Hylian prince as its victim.

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reviews r appreciated people, hope u liked that chapter.