Link sat up, holding his head in one hand. He felt terrible. Those sleeping pills must have been powerful. But at least his side didn't hurt.
He looked at the wound and noticed that it was bandaged up. He lifted the bandages enough to see the wound. They had stitched it up in his sleep, but there was still blood all over it. The blood didn't look so good; it was a dark shade of purple.
Must be that dark energy, he thought. Link sat on the edge of his bed, rubbing his eyes. He did that for a minute or so and then stood on his feet. He had expected a huge wave of pain to come over him, but surprisingly nothing happened. He reached to his left and grabbed his clothes, which were folded neatly and the bloodstains had been cleaned off, and they had stitched the rip in it together as well.
He pulled on his pants and slipped on his shirt, walking out of the small building. He guessed they had been expecting him, because his carriage arrived in front of him before he had taken a step.
"Your Highness, a ride to the castle?" the coach asked. Link nodded and clambered in.
There, to his surprise, was his wife. "Ah, Zel—" he started, but she silenced him with a passionate kiss on the lips.
Link followed suit immediately and wrapped his arm around her neck, locking his lips onto hers for a moment until she broke off.
"Link…" she whispered. "I was so afraid that I had lost you when I saw Ganondorf strike you with that sword."
"I didn't feel a thing," Link replied. "I was unconscious as soon as the blade hit me. The next thing I knew I was in the Hall of Healing."
Zelda put a hand on his cheek. Link grabbed it and placed it in his own. The two smiled warmly at each other as the carriage rocked back and forth up the trail to Hyrule Castle.
Lance had the insight to bring his gauntlets to work that day. Even though he could still easily hit his exposed thumb, the tightness of the hard leather elbow-high glove would ease the pain.
He was still a little put out from the previous day and how that beautiful girl had laughed at him. Of course, she was probably just laughing with him, right?
He had the sudden instinct to look over to the same place that he had seen her the day before, but she wasn't there. He grumbled and continued hammering a board to the roof.
He finished that board and reached down for a second one. He was almost finished. He had about five or six boards left and he would be done with the roof of the Happy Mask Shop. They'd probably put him to work on the Bazaar next.
Lance heard a sound by the fruit bar. He snapped his head around to face the direction of it. There was nothing.
Give it up, Lance, she's never coming back, he thought. That just made him feel worse. He tried to knock some sense into him by hitting his head gently with the hammer, but that just gave him a little headache, despite how gently he had been hitting.
Lance heard a loud yell over at the fruit bar across the plaza. He refused to turn his head. He just kept slamming the hammer on the nail that pinned the wooden board to the roof. It wasn't until he heard, "No, let me go!" that he turned his head.
She was there. And some bearded man had her by the arm with a drunken, malicious stare in his eyes. Lance assumed the worst and slid down the ladder and over to the two.
He gripped the drunken man's arm and yanked it away from the girl's.
"I suggest that you let the lady go," Lance said coolly. What am I thinking? he thought. This guy's twice my size!
The drunk guffawed and looked at Lance square in the eye. "And what are you gonna do about it, kid?" he said with a hard poke in the chest.
Then Lance remembered his authority as crown prince. He was about to say so when he saw a fat, chubby fist headed for his face. His ducked on pure instinct and the force of the man's punch spun him around and, in his drunken state, he almost toppled over.
This just angered him more. But Lance, being in an ideal position, tackled the man to the ground.
The man just laughed and threw Lance off him. Lance stumbled, then caught his balance. He only stood for another second when he was thrown off his feet with his left cheekbone throbbing.
Lance landed on his back, hard. He grunted with pain and quickly rolled away from the man's second punch. He quickly grabbed his arm for the third one and threw him behind him, or at least tried to. The man weighed at least three hundred pounds, and didn't even stumble. It was almost like Lance had pushed him gently.
"You're a fool, boy," he said as Lance stood. He quickly slammed an elbow right into Lance's mouth. Blood spurted from his mouth as his tooth jammed against his lip. Ow…he thought. The man wiped blood from his elbow and grabbed Lance by the scruff of the neck before he could fall to the floor.
Without a word he slammed his fist into Lance's stomach. His breath exited his lungs instantly. He tried to breathe, but his breath came in short grunts, making the drunk laugh and punch him again.
Lance felt like he was going to pass out. He had a large bruise on his face and blood was dripping from his open mouth, getting on his teeth. He had always hated that weird, salty taste.
The drunkard then threw Lance down on the hard cobble again. Lance just lay there, ready for the pain.
The drunk laughed one final time and slammed his fat, hairy fist into Lance's face. He distinctly remembered a loud cracking sound in his nose as he blacked out.