A note from the Hime no Argh herself-
Well this is a chapter I kinda like, so I hope you'll like it too! ^^ Not a lot of news to impart about Hime's life...I did start college classes, though, and they've been pretty fun. If you want to hear more about what's been going on with me, you could always check out my ff.net bio. I'll understand if you're not interested. ^^;
Anyway, hope you have fun reading the chapter!
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Chapter 9
Steel Feather
Zelda and Link decided to keep the fight with the Gerudo twins to themselves. No harm was done, and there was no point in putting the entire troupe on edge. If the sisters intended to live up to their threats, they'd deal with it when the time came.
With the stolen goods from Merchantsboon, the Best Damn Thieves Around moved south, skirting the Lost Woods and abandoning the mountain range in favor of lush, green hill country. Their next destination was Koto-Ho, a prime trading city where they could unload their bounty for a small fortune. Zelda spent much of the trip tucked into a corner of the wagon, immersed in The Chronicles of Fate. The recent attacks had amplified her curiosity regarding herself, Link, The Master Sword, and whatever destiny seemed to entangle them all.
No matter who led the thieves in their daily training, Link always found himself inevitably locking swords with Impa. The Sheikah simply took it for granted that Link would consent-and even if that wasn't the case, Link wasn't so stupid as to try and tell her no. Every day Impa leapt to the attack with just as much ferocity as the first time, and every day Link found himself desperately trying to match her speed and strength. He didn't always succeed in blocking her attacks and Impa never spared him-a hard bruise or shallow gash was his punishment, to "make the lesson stick," as Impa put it. After one such session Link found himself in the wagon, nursing a particularly nasty scratch that ran down the length of his right arm.
"How is anyone supposed to keep up with that woman?" he vented in frustration as Cleo stitched the wound, her gentle touch compensating for the sting of the needle. "She's like a-a goddess of the sword, all speed and steel and sharp edges."
"Impa is very fast, yes," Cleo agreed sympathetically.
"Speed is supposed to be my good asset," Link grumbled. "I'm not big or very strong, so that's how I make up for it. But her! She has strength, height, weight, and speed! She has every advantage!"
"She's also older than you and far more experienced," Cleo pointed out gently. "Maybe you just need practice."
"Well, in case you haven't noticed, I'm getting lots of practice and it doesn't seem to be helping." Link sighed, running his free hand through his hair. "Why me? Why does she insist on these practices every day for me and no one else?"
Cleo smiled teasingly at him, wrapping a bandage around the freshly sutured wound. "Because she's a evil demon who lives to torture you?"
Link made a face. "That wouldn't be very productive."
"All right, how about this? She knows you've got real talent where the sword is concerned, and she wants to make you a master." When Link glanced at her, surprised, Cleo smiled. "Or we could go back to her being an evil demon. That one's more fun, wouldn't you agree?"
Link considered the older woman's words for a few moments. "Maybe you're right," he said at last, and smiled sheepishly. "Sorry for whining at you."
Cleo smiled, ruffling his hair as she would a younger brother. "Whine away, my friend. I'm always willing to listen."
His sessions with Impa aside, Link found that he enjoyed traveling with the thieves. He was accustomed to solitude, wandering with Demon as his sole companion, and as wonderful as the horse was for listening he wasn't much for carrying on conversations. With the thieves there was always someone around, so that it became practically impossible to get a moment's peace. The constant company took some getting used to, but after a while Link discovered that he liked it. There was always someone to talk, joke, and laugh with; the thieves were constantly teasing and playing tricks on one another. In the evening, when the wagon halted for the night, they held competitions in archery (Zelda was banned from participating because she was unmistakably the best), sword combat (Impa always won by default because everyone refused to fight her), wrestling (Link tried gamely but lost constantly), and quieter activities such as chess and dice games. They staged a chess tournament and Link found himself in a heated battle with Marek for third place while Cleo and Impa dueled for first.
He got along with some of the thieves better than others. Most of the women were no trouble-Cleo seemed to like him, and Dagger and Rune flirted with him shamelessly every chance they got. For some reason this seemed to irritate Zelda, with whom Link was never sure where he stood. Just as confusing was Impa, who never spared him even a moment of her frustration in their sword training, usually in front of an audience.
Oberon was too busy chasing the ladies of the troupe to fraternize, and Parcleus mostly preferred to keep to his gloomy lonesome. Bolo never gave him a moment's peace, constantly taking jabs and grumbling aloud that Link didn't belong with the thieves, only to be ignored by everyone else.
Marek-tall, lanky, laid-back-had an eye for horses, and took an immediate liking to Demon, which caused Link to take a liking to him. The red-headed youth liked tumbling and chess and had his eye on Dagger, though he didn't seem to mind her flirting with Link. "She's just having fun," he said wisely, with so much assurance that it was impossible to disbelieve him, and later he confided to Link that he had found Dagger in the brothels in Hylia City and brought her to the thieves. "I hate brothels," he said calmly, chewing on a stalk of grass. "My dam was kidnapped and sold on the black market into prostitution. I never saw her again, but I heard she died somewhere in the desert. They starve the women who refuse to service customers, you know."
"That's disgusting," Link said vehemently.
"I know." Marek looked across their campsite at Dagger, and his eyes darkened momentarily. "That's how I found her. Half starved. Half dead. She took a long time to recover."
Marek didn't share his story, so Link didn't pry. Nearly all of the thieves seemed to have some nameless horror in their past, a history that had left them orphaned and alone and with no way to survive but to turn to thieving. Though Link didn't agree with their lifestyle he understood that it was necessary, that without it many of them would be slaves or prostitutes or dead. All of them credited Zelda as their savior, but she disagreed.
"I didn't save anyone here," she often said, firmly. "You all saved yourselves." Link's respect for her grew every day.
After about a week on the road, they rumbled into Koto-Ho, situated in a valley between lush hills and a cold, swift river. The architecture of the city favored tall buildings made out of wood with sloping roofs covered in clay tiles. A great wall protected the city and peddlers streamed in and out through a wide gate that was hundreds of feet tall, painted a deep scarlet hue. Heavy wooden doors protected houses, shops, and other structures, but inside these buildings wooden walls and doors gave way to thick, stiff rice paper with wooden frames. Homes were sparsely furnished with few chairs and no beds; residents slept in bedrolls, their floors laden with handwoven mats called tatami to provide additional cushioning.
Rather than anchoring the wagon somewhere outside the city, the thieves drove it right into the midst of Koto-Ho, headed toward the great marketplace in the center. The market in Kakariko couldn't hold a candle to this bazaar, covered with tents and stalls and so crowded with people that the wagon had to move at a snail's pace just to avoid running over some unfortunate soul. The din of peddlers and customers haggling over wares was deafening. Most of what was sold here were items worth a small fortune-worked metals and spices and especially silks, for which Koto-Ho was famous.
They parked themselves right in the middle of the square and gathered inside of the wagon, save for Marek and Parcleus, who were busy setting up the stage. "Okay, everyone knows the routine," Zelda began. "Rune, I want you and Parcleus working the crowd, as usual. You can make a fortune from pickpocketing here," she explained, mostly for Link's benefit. "The peddlers sell riches, so everyone carries as much money on them as possible."
"You're out of here, boy," Impa ordered Link. "You're no help right now, so find somewhere else to be until we're done."
"Impa," Zelda protested, but Link shook his head.
"It's fine. I'd rather have a look around anyway. I'll see you all later." Link waved and disappeared, off to explore the great city.
* * *
Later that evening, after two shows and a lot of pickpocketing, Zelda wandered through Koto-Ho alone. She was feeling very cheerful. They'd made a small fortune in stolen purses and the profit received from trading in their goods from Merchantsboon. Most of the thieves were sticking by the wagon, eating dinner from their store of food, but Zelda preferred to sample the cuisine unique to the city.
She ended up in an open-air restaurant, where customers ordered and ate at an outdoor bar. She opted for a rice bowl topped with vegetables and poultry covered with a spicy sauce. The restaurant was deserted-most visitors to Koto-Ho still haggled by twilight, and would not retire until dark.
Zelda heard a faint clanking and turned to her right to see that she had a companion. A man had settled into the stool beside her, and she could tell in one glance that he was no ordinary stranger. He was not a Koto-Ho resident dressed in silk, nor was he a peddler carrying his merchandise, always in hopes of making a trade. Even sitting he looked unusually tall, with broad shoulders, strong limbs, and large, capable-looking hands. She could see the glimpses of silver armor hidden beneath a long cloak that was wrapped around his shoulders and neck like a burnoose, shielding the lower portion of his face. His hair was light brown with a touch of gold, long and tied away from his face with a leather thong. A large golden feather was thrust into his hair.
Zelda watched him out of the corner of her eye, interested in not only his appearance but the fact that he'd seated himself right next to her when there were dozens of empty stools along the length of the bar. He ordered a single bowl of miso broth and paid the server on the spot, handing her a small leather purse and informing her she could keep the change. His voice was light and youthful.
Zelda turned away with a small smile. She'd seen the large purse at his belt when he pushed aside the burnoose in his search for the smaller purse. So he was some rich nobody in town on leisure. It would be an easy task to rob him blind.
She finished her food, not too quickly as to avoid attention, and paid while the rich man was still nursing his broth. She ordered a cup of tea for the road, then made her move. While her companion sipped his soup, she slipped her right hand beneath the folds of his cloak and deftly unhooked the large purse. She transferred the purse from her right to left hand, took a last gulp of tea, then casually slid off her stool and began to stroll away.
"You don't want that purse, miss," the man called after her. "It's full of rocks."
Zelda halted in her tracks, stunned. It was the first time in over ten years that she'd been caught in the act of pickpocketing. She opened the purse to find it indeed full of weighted rocks-not a single Rupee in sight. Disgusted, she turned back and hurled the purse at the man.
He caught it one-handed without glancing up. He picked up his bowl and drained it, then set it on the counter and turned to her, pulling the burnoose down around his neck so she could see his smile. He had a handsome, youthful face marked with a black tattoo on his forehead in a strange, jagged-edged design. His eyes appeared a light brown from where she stood.
"I don't carry money on my person," he said lightly. "I don't have any to carry."
From behind the bar came a sudden shout: "Hey, what the hell is this? Rocks?"
"That would be my cue," the man murmured, sliding off of his stool. With a nod to her, he strode quickly away down the road, disappearing around a shop. Intrigued, Zelda followed, but when she turned the corner she found only a small, empty square in the midst of shops and more open-air restaurants. The man was nowhere in sight.
That was strange, she thought, eyebrows raised as she searched for the man. At last she decided there was no point in looking and she'd best return to the wagon anyway. She turned to go, but a sudden prickling on the back of her neck made her halt in her tracks.
For a moment all was still. Then Zelda leapt back as steel flashed before her, reversed direction, and flew back to the hand of Azura. The Gerudo stood on the roof of an empty restaurant with her sister, both armed and ready.
"Oh, great," Zelda remarked dryly. "Let me guess-Azura and Arjuna, round two."
"I see you're alone," Arjuna shot back. "Too bad you don't have your lover to hide behind this time. And again you're not armed!" The sisters laughed.
Zelda thought a dozen curses as she realized they were right, but her face was calm and unworried. "As I recall, I managed to take down Azura there with my bare hands last time," she reminded them coolly. "I'd be happy to do it again."
"Not this time," Azura spat. "I'll cut you to pieces and present your innards to my master."
"I'm sure he'll appreciate the gesture." The twins had leapt down from the roof and now they stood on the edges of the square, Zelda on one side and the Gerudo on the other. Zelda was in trouble and she knew it. Who are these people? she wondered. Why are they so intent on my life and Link's?
"Let's go!" Azura cried, raising her scythe-but abruptly she stopped, glancing to her left. Zelda looked as well and saw the man with the feather in his hair wandering straight through the square, into the midst of the battle.
"Who the hell...?" Arjuna muttered. Zelda was wondering the same thing.
"What on earth are you doing here?" she demanded of the brainless stranger. "Can't you see there's a fight about to take place? Go away!"
The man halted in between her and the twins, glancing back and forth. "Not much of a fair fight," he murmured slowly. "Two against one, and the one not even armed."
"If you'd like to stay and even out the odds, you're welcome to," Azura offered with a dangerous grin. "We'll gladly cut you to pieces!"
Zelda put a hand to her forehead, clenching her teeth in exasperation. She had to chase off the idiot before he got killed. She took a step toward him, but the man threw out his arm to stop her.
"If there's one thing I don't like," he remarked coolly, "it's an unfair fight. So yes, I think I will even up the odds."
"You brainless dolt, you're not armed yourself!" Zelda snapped at him.
The man glanced back at her with a smile that made her heart stop and her legs move as if they had a mind of their own, backing her away several steps. There was something in that smile that she'd never seen before, and she wasn't sure she wanted to find out what it was.
"Appearances can be deceiving," the man informed her, reaching to his hair. His fingers closed around the long, thick shaft of the large feather thrust into his ponytail-but the moment he touched it, something happened. The feather seemed to shudder of its own volition; a gleam of silver went through it and the feather became stiff and solid in his hand, its golden hue replaced by a dark silver as if the feather were coated in steel. As he drew it from his hair the dying sunlight flashed and winked along its length, and she could see clearly that the feather's spines were razor-sharp.
Azura and Arjuna looked as stunned as Zelda felt, gaping at the steel feather as if frozen in shock. Then Arjuna seemed to shed her paralysis, and she gripped her sister's arm. "Let's go," she said urgently. "This is a fight we want no part of."
"But-" Azura protested as her sister wheeled her forcibly around, unable to take her eyes off the feather.
"Come on!" Arjuna insisted, and they were gone, darting away over the rooftops of Koto-Ho.
"Good," said the man as they fled. "I hate fighting." He stuck the feather back into his hair, and the moment he let go it was normal once again. He turned to Zelda, and she could see clearly now that his eyes were not light brown, as she'd previously thought, but a deep, pure amber, unlike any hue she'd ever seen. Standing, he towered over her-the top of her head was barely level with his chin.
"Who are you?" Zelda whispered, transfixed.
He bowed to her with an exaggerated flourish. "A simple wanderer, no more. I'm called Ronin."
Zelda didn't have to ask whether that was his real name or not-the answer was as plain as the feather in his hair. "And here I thought I'd had enough of strange fellows," she muttered under her breath, trying to gather her wits together.
"And you, dear lady?" Ronin inquired, straightening and fixing her with those queer amber eyes.
"I-I'm Zelda," she faltered, distressed to realize her cheeks were growing hot. The gaze he fixed her with was penetrating, as if her body was merely glass and he could see straight through to her soul.
He blinked, and she was mercifully free. "Unusual name," he mused.
"So is Ronin," Zelda retorted.
He smiled, not as if she'd amused him but as if she'd said something profound. "Yes, I suppose it is," he replied softly. "But, you know, I like to think our names are a reflection of ourselves. Zelda sounds to me like a name with a regal bearing. As though the wearer of this name possesses grace and beauty beyond that of the common man."
With a shock, Zelda realized he was flirting with her. What shocked her even more was the realization that she was flirting back. "And what does a name like Ronin make you?"
He considered that for several long moments. "Alone," he said at last. Simply, without a hint of self-pity. He was merely stating the truth.
A momentary silence fell between them, broken by a new, familiar voice. "Zelda? Zelda!" Link abruptly dashed around a shop corner and skidded to a halt in the square. "I just caught a glimpse of Arjuna and Azura, are you-" He stopped, looking between Zelda and Ronin. "Who's he?"
"Oh-this is Ronin," Zelda introduced her companion. "He helped me out when those Gerudo attacked me-"
"They attacked you again?" Link cried, outraged.
"Yes, like I said. Ronin, this is Link."
Ronin approached Link and held out a hand, sweeping him from head to toe with an appraising look. Zelda was amused to realize that Ronin towered over Link as well. "Nice to meet you, Link."
Link took Ronin's hand, squeezed, and let go. Zelda was surprised to see an expression of obvious dislike on his face. She'd seen Link irritated, certainly, even angry, but those feelings never seemed to be directed toward anyone in particular. The thought that Link could dislike anyone had never even crossed her mind.
"The pleasure is mine," Link replied, though it quite obviously wasn't. "I appreciate your efforts to help Zelda."
Ronin cast a glance at Zelda, then looked at Link again. "It wasn't much that I did," he said coolly. "If she's your companion, though...well, it's not very safe to let her wander around alone and unarmed."
The expression on Link's face intensified to something close to open hostility. "I'll keep that in mind," he said coldly. "Rest assured, she's perfectly capable of taking care of herself."
Zelda beamed at Link, and he diverted a little smile in her direction, warming her as if she'd just swallowed an entire pot of miso broth. Ronin looked at her as well, and he seemed amused.
"She's a little thing, certainly," he said, "but I imagine she has fire to her. Well, take care, both of you." He pulled his burnoose up around his face, hiding his nose and mouth, and gave a small wave. "I'm sure we'll meet again." He walked the length of the square, turned a corner, and was gone.
"Here's hoping we don't," Link shot in his wake, then turned to Zelda. "We'd better get back, huh? The others were starting to worry about you."
That, Zelda knew perfectly well, was a lie. The thieves knew she could take care of herself. "You mean you were starting to worry about me," she challenged.
Link glanced at her as if startled, but the expression faded as he looked into her eyes with a gaze that was entirely different from Ronin's, yet just as penetrating. "I was," he admitted quietly. "It seems I have to keep my eyes on you every moment, or you get into trouble again."
"I attract trouble," Zelda said truthfully, feeling herself flush under his gaze, but the attention was not unwelcome.
He looked at her for a moment longer, than turned away, walking toward the edge of the square. "Let's get back before goddesses-know what else decides to come at us."
Zelda followed, catching up to him and slipping her hand in his without so much as a glance up at him. He squeezed her hand reassuringly, and they walked the rest of the way in a comfortable silence, separating only when they came in sight of the wagon.
* * *
To be continued.