A.N: I would first like to say thank you to all those fantastic people who reviewed my last chapter. Glad to hear so many people are enjoying it. I greatly appreciate them as they are one of the main things that keeps me motivated to keep me going when my chapters are becoming mind meltingly long (Such as this chapter) and to the guest reviewer who recognised the Witcher 3 influences in there, including a deliberate reference, congratulations!

Kurogane Tsubasa: With regard to your comment on mental strain with long chapters, I was originally planning on this chapter and the next all being one continuous stream, but in the end I just couldn't cope, and quite frankly I'mnot sure many readers would be able to cope with it either.

Even so this chapter has been an absolute nightmare to write! It might be a nightmare to read as well!

As always feedback is greatly appreciated, I hope you enjoy and I hope you have a great day (at least better than Links)!

Chapter 12 – A Matter of Strife or Theft

Hyrule Castle – 126 days A.G

Link stared down the long empty stone corridor, wholly unremarkable and devoid of any features that distinguished it from any other in this labyrinthine royal palace. It was a sight that hadn't changed in the hours he'd been standing here and it was unlikely to change any time soon. His improved hearing occasionally picked up the sounds of muffle footsteps or voices drifting through the stone ceiling or the far-off mahogany door that lead back to the main castle, but those responsible for breaking the silence never graced him with their presence. It would certainly be a welcome distraction from the mind-numbing monotony that was guard duty.

Of course, he had no one to blame but himself for his current predicament, as he had chosen to accept the princess's offer, fully informed that this would be part of his role. She had been nothing if not honest in describing his duties. Link frowned and scratched his nose to try and relieve the itch that had become obnoxiously noticeable thanks to the complete absence of outside stimulation. Itch scratched the best he could, he then readjusted his bracers and flattened the red sash that ran from his left shoulder down to his right hip.

The one activity that guard duty was good for was rumination and he had plenty to ponder.

It had been three weeks…

Three weeks since his fateful audience with the princess, three weeks since he'd humiliated himself in front of half the castle guards and three weeks since he'd been caught with his arms around the princess, following her, still unexplained, collapse.

What little he did know, thankfully soothed his conscience that he wasn't at fault for the incident, at least if she was being honest with him. The contents of the letter did appear to be the catalyst for her fainting, yet Zelda expressed gratitude to him for delivering it. That was after she had finally regained the powers of speech enough to persuade Basil and a couple of the royal guards out of throwing him in the dungeon for "harming her royal highness with the vile desire of tainting her purity!" The situation had been an absolute mess.

That, however, had been the last time he'd seen her, which left him worrying. He would have thought that she might meet him even if only for the briefest of moments simply to see how he was settling in. He knew that she was often incredibly busy but surely at some point they should have run into one another by now. Was she avoiding him? Was she embarrassed over fainting? Had she lied when she said she was grateful for the letter? Was she angry?

Indeed, the thought occurred to him that it would certainly go a way to explaining his out of the way guard postings. Could this be his punishment? No, Zelda didn't seem the vindictive or scheming type and he had faith that Zelda with her wisdom and understanding would realise that it had not been his intention to cause her distress.

Could it be that she was simply swamped with duties and that he was over-thinking the issue? Most likely, but when you've nothing else to occupy you, other than your ponderings, and you also happened to have narrowly avoided a prison sentence after a dramatic and mysterious incident, that tends to happen.

Link cast his mind back to his experiences thus far in his new life, to prevent him slipping into yet another cycle of worrying and reassurance. He had to admit, despite some bumps along the way, his introductory weeks to the boots of a member of Hyrules army hadn't been quite the nightmare he'd dreaded.

He hadn't started on the best footing due to his comical appearance, which had continued to haunt him until a few days ago as his hair grew back. Rumours had also abounded regarding his "special" position and privileges which were blatantly highlighted by the fact that he alone was not required to wear traditional guard armour, a liberty that he was incredibly thankful for. He became an island of colour in a sea of cold metal as he chose to carry on his personal habit of sporting his classic green hero look, the only change being the red sash and medallion indicating his position and rank as a member of the army.

This major distinction in uniform, while much more comfortable for Link made him stand out Like a sore thumb and had only exacerbated the divide between him and his comrades in his regiment. They'd seen him as a pretty boy who got special privileges due to royal favouritism rather than skill or achievement. Link had even been forced to point out that he was the hero of Twilight in an attempt to justify it, but that only added more fuel to the flames of his derision as most didn't believe him, brandling him a liar and a charlatan. Quite frankly, he couldn't entirely blame them.

The soldier's general scorn for him combined with his knack for getting lost and, as a result, running everywhere earned him the nickname of "Leg-it Link". Add in those who witnessed his outfit for his audience with Zelda and it was a recipe for endless mocking and ridicule.

Luckily two events on the final day of his first week proved to be a turning point in what had, up to that stage, been validation of his worst fears. The first was when the 31st regiment, responsible for escorting the princess to Ordon, had returned and recognised him, corroborating his claims. The second occurred shortly after, as the few remaining sceptics demanded he demonstrate his skills in sparring, which apparently it was standard protocol to refrain from until the second week for recruit induction. Fortunately, such rules were waived given his unique standing and all the soldiers not on duty gathered in the training yard to witness his prowess.

What followed, even with Link's lack of recent practice, was two hours of clinical and unrelenting massacre, as Link made quick and casual work of any opponent who dared challenge him. His nickname took on a new meaning as he danced effortlessly round every attack that came his way, with footwork that left most onlookers envious. He had even managed to attract an audience of servants and a couple of nobles on the castle balconies that overlooked the yard. One on one, two on one, three on one, it didn't matter! Link emerged victorious.

With his unprecedented show of strength, agility and showmanship, combined with the now confirmed title of hero, his popularity had risen faster and higher than Lord Halshaw's pulse and blood pressure during his battle of wits with Zelda.

To Link's surprise he discovered that "news" of the confrontation had spread throughout both the ranks of the soldiers and the court, though accounts varied wildly from party to party. One thing however could be stated for certain. The battle had done incalculable damage to Lord Halshaw's reputation, and by extension that of his family, although he now knew that it had already been on the decline for several years. By chance they had happened to cross paths on the second week of his stay and Link found himself taken aback by how haggard and dishevelled the lord appeared. He'd expected some snide remark or comment to be thrown his way but was greeted with little more than a bleary-eyed stare as the man shuffled past, stinking of booze. He almost felt sorry for the miserable man.

He had yet to meet any other members of the council but knowledge and opinions regarding them were sketchy and mixed, with the primary response from other guards to such questions being "Don't know, don't care!" It was that very attitude, repeated ad nauseum to virtually any subject that wasn't related to drinking, sparring, dirty jokes or wenches that went a long way to accounting for Link's sparse group of friends among the general rank and file. He had always considered himself to be uneducated by regular standards but some of these soldiers made him look like Shad by comparison. If brains were dynamite most of them couldn't demolish anything bigger than a pumpkin.

Most of those he considered friends were his fellow officers, among them being Ashei, but their shift rota seemed to conspire against any chance of them having an opportunity to chat two days of every three. He'd tried to drill her on what happened with her meeting with Zelda but she was decidedly Mum about the whole affair. All he got for his trouble was crossed arms and a slight pout as her eyes flitted about trying to avoid his. It wasn't surprising given her prideful nature, which truly reared its ugly head when they sparred. She may have initially said that she was glad he was around so she could actually have a challenge, however when she faced that challenge, and racked up a number of heroically close yet depressingly unanimous defeats, she demonstrated that she wasn't the most gracious of losers.

His other friends in among the officers fortunately lacked that particular flaw but made up for it with diverse foibles of their own, one of which had been responsible for his current double length guard shift. It seemed that even the officers were not beyond the draw of alcohol and one had hit the bottle pretty hard the previous night. The inevitable hangover that arrived on cue this morning meant that someone had to take over his shift and Link, being incapable of refusing someone in need, volunteered to take his place only to remember that his own shift followed directly on from it.

"you've really got to work on saying no sometimes" he grumbled to himself, doing a jig on the spot to stop his legs from falling asleep. Time was an illusion on these long guard postings as the hours stretched to obscene lengths in a desperate attempt to drive him to madness. He could not judge how long he'd stood here for, as there were no windows, no clock and no passers-by to quiz. He may have been able to guess by how the candles had burned down, but he hadn't bothered to make a note of where they'd started.

Some nobles apparently carried around mini clocks in their pockets called watches but he had no idea where to get one or if he could even afford the cost. They used them as status symbols which indicated they were probably worth a small fortunate, that he no longer possessed due to his generous donations after his adventure. Oh, what he wouldn't give for a watch right now, if nothing else but to numb his mind, following the second hand as it spun round the dial endlessly.

Yep, boredom was the inevitable pastime that all on guard shift acquired sooner or later. The question was "how soon had he acquired it?". Did he still have hours left on the clock or would salvation soon arrive through the far door?

As there wasn't another soul in sight Link absent-mindedly unsheathed his sword and gave a few careless flourishes before returning it to his back-scabbard. He'd been legitimately surprised by just how many brows had been raised among the ranks at him carrying his sword on his back. He'd thought it perfectly ordinary until he observed and came to the startling revelation that he and Rusl were the only people he could recall in all of Hyrule who bore their swords on their backs.

Oh, for Farores sake! I had that thought the last time I produced my sword, however many eons ago that was. How many cycles of deliberating, reminiscing, skipping and sword flailing would he be forced to endure before a saviour appeared to take over his unenviable post? It wasn't just his mind that was starving. His stomach was complaining of lack of sustenance too. The second time in three weeks… just like when he met the princess.

He was about to start a new cycle of worrying over Zelda when at last salvation clattered through the door in the shape of a soldier he only vaguely knew. The man stomped up to Link, apathy stamped in bold letters across his semi-concealed features as he mumbled a greeting and announced the end of Link's guard duties for today, with all the enthusiasm of a Zora who's been offered a vacation to the Gerudo desert.

Link bid a hasty thanks to his rescuer and virtually ran for the door, desperate for some change of scenery, no matter how minor and simply grateful that his tedium had finally come to an end. Unfortunately, his troubles on the other hand, had not, as he realised that, with his extra-long shift, he'd missed lunch at the barracks. He had only two options as far as he could see; wait until evening meal or procure some food directly from the kitchens.

Another growl from his tummy informed him that waiting really wasn't a sensible option, however his mind quickly sprung upon another problem as he found the clock in the next corridor. Meals at the barracks, while not poultry in size, rarely resulted in any leftovers, which was all he could hope to find at this hour… at least in the soldier's kitchen…

"But there is another option" Came a whisper with an unmistakable lilt. Link froze, breath catching in his throat as his chest tightened. He knew that voice intimately… but he also knew it couldn't really be her, no matter how much he'd wish it to be.

After a brief glance down the empty corridor his gaze turned back to the clock and the all too familiar black and blue imp perched atop it, regarding him with her characteristically toothy grin and a devious glint in her amber eyes. There was such life in the glowing orbs that he could almost be forgiven for thinking she really had miraculously returned, yet he was painfully conscious of the true source of the image before him.

Despite his awareness of the illusion and the melancholia that descended as he gazed upon its unnatural stillness, he could not bring himself to banish it, for fear that he would condemn the very memory of her as well. Instead he allowed the mental quarrel that would surely follow to play out as though it was really her.

"Hey, why the long face?" chirped the vision, uncannily capturing the real Midna's sass. Link knew the real identity of this phantom though. It may not have been Midna in the flesh but she certainly bore some of the blame for digging it up from where he'd buried it.

Being the strait-laced and upstanding man that he was, it was much to Link's chagrin that he had long buried a dark secret that, while not as monstrous as his self-doubt, would certainly ensure no one would ever see him in the same way again. The shocking truth was he'd once had… a mischievous streak! Well perhaps in his case most would probably describe it as a speck rather than a streak, but just like your average fly at a picnic, it was proof that size is no object when your goal is to irritate.

He'd thought he had successfully snuffed out that particular unsavoury characteristic when he started to take responsibility in the village or that he'd somehow grown out of it. Unfortunately, under Midna's careful nurturing influence the speck had sprouted anew and in some sick tribute to it's saviour, taken up her voice and her guise in her absence.

Was he such a masochist, that part of him would chose such torment as to take on her form? "Oh stop being so dour, and don't think that sad innocent face is fooling anyone. You know what option I'm talking about." The phantom jibed with a cock of the head.

Oh, he knew perfectly well, as it was that very epiphany that had brought the rogue phantom out in the first place. They were quite literally of the same mind, just with very different sensibilities when it came to rules and when to break them. It had been as he'd watched the minute hand of the clock, deep in contemplation, that he'd come to the realisation that his shift had ended, by pure coincidence, at roughly the same time that the royal kitchen would be empty of staff but, hopefully, stocked up with the leftovers of the council's midday meal.

The prospect of more delicacies such as those he'd sampled at his audience with her highness was an undeniably tempting one, however the opportunity was fleeting as the staff would soon return and either gorge on the delectable morsels themselves or be packaging them up to be donated. Then there was the fact that the kitchen entrance was always guarded.

"Since when have armed guards been a problem for us?!"

Well he couldn't just go around beating up his fellow soldiers…

"Honestly, you may pride yourself on being the sensible side of this partnership, but I'm clearly the brains of this duo. Of course we don't attack them! If our hours spent dungeon crawling should have taught you anything, it's that there are often multiple routes past obstacles."

Link sighed in frustration. "Can't we just go to Telma's…"

"Absolutely not!" Phantom Midna promptly leapt down from her seat on the rim of the clock and floated to his head height, matching the real imps characteristic glare she displayed when he was being particularly stubborn. "You're talking about 20 minutes to get there, 20 waiting while it's cooked, 20 again to eat and 20 minutes back. Not only would we be late for command training but it would be for food that, while satisfactory, pales in comparison to the treasures of the royal kitchen."

"Since when have you cared about being late?!" came his mental retort.

"Since it supports my argument. Now stop being such a stubborn wolf and let's get going. it's not like anyone's gonna miss a few leftovers just because they're from the royal kitchen. Go on, live a little."

"what if we get caught?"

"Don't overthink things. Just picture that table of delights you feasted on last time; tender pork, choice beef, succulent pheasant, tasty taters and mountains of vegetables and that's not even considering the desserts! Now are you in?!" Before Link could even think of a reply, his stomach spoke for him giving a loud growl of agreement. Had he just been outvoted by his stomach?!

"It would seem the crowd is against you, Mr Stick-In-The-Mud" Midna crowed in satisfaction.

Link groaned in resignation. "Fine, but if this ever comes back to bite me, it's on you!"

"Gooood boy, now go! We haven't got all day!" With that the imp merged with his shadow as she had so often done in his adventures and he set off at pace through the labyrinth of corridors, hallways and stairwells towards the royal kitchens, occasionally startling something half-awake guard his, apparently, sudden appearance. He wasn't entirely sure how they found it such a surprise when his fast, heavy footfalls echoed down the stone passages like picks pummelling rock in a deep mine.

After a couple of wrong turns, and one embarrassing instance of having to ask directions from a passing maid, he finally found himself approaching his destination. "what's happened to your sense of direction? You never struggled this much at the lake bed temple and that was far less straight-forward. Perhaps things would have gone smoother had you let me lead." his shadow admonished, but finishing with her distinctive chuckle.

"The lake bed temple? Less straight-forward? Pleeaase! You've clearly not been paying attention!" Link retorted in his head, marvelling at just how well his mischievous side could mimic his lost friend. He almost felt like he was back on his adventures again. It seemed ironic but Midna's prickly demeanour and sarcastic comments always boosted his morale. His confidence was growing and the sight of the two guards, unfortunately wide awake, flanking the entrance to the royal kitchen no longer phased him.

Time to scope out the place… casually. After all he didn't want to raise suspicions. Striding with his best feigned nonchalance towards the door, he tried to identify the two guards to see whether he had any chance of tricking them. Upon a subtle sideways glance and picking up their scents, he recognised them and cursed silently. Damn it! He knew the two to be meatheads, but he was also aware there was little chance of fooling them into abandoning their posts, not because they were smart, but because they were even more by-the-book than he was.

He'd just need to find another way in. Passing by the main entrance and the guards, he acknowledged them by exchanging a nod as he strode coolly towards another door at the end of the hallway. If his memory served, he should find himself in the royal gardens.

He was proven correct as he slipped out the door and his eyes, used to the flickering candlelit corridors of the castle were suddenly assaulted by the glaring rays of a warm spring sun, as cold echoing stone was replaced by a sea of green, with bursts of more vibrant collages of colour dotting the landscape. Emerging from the quiet, dreary atmosphere of the inside, he was greeted by a chorus of chirping birds and the gurgling of fountains and other water features.

Casting his eyes about this green oasis of calm and serenity, it was easy to forget that it was part of the castle and that it was hemmed in by high stone walls. It wouldn't surprise him if the rumours were true that this was Zelda's favourite place in the castle. For a moment he paused just to take in the scenery, as while he wasn't one for appreciating horticulture, he knew beauty when he saw it.

Off to his right was an ornamental flower garden that held, as it's Centrepoint, a magnificent fountain that Link could say he was well acquainted with. He'd tried to use it to wash the stink out of his hair after his audience with the princess, much to Ashei's amusement. She had certainly appreciated Basil and Bernard's styling choices more than he had.

Turning his attention to the left, he found what he guessed to be the famous castle hedge maze. Quite frankly its existence seemed rather superfluous given that the palace was a maze in itself. Either the royal family had a penchant for puzzles or they were all gluttons for punishment. Word had it that the princess was fond of venturing in and spend her free moments there. Perhaps she was in there right now. Perhaps he should investigate, just in case she is and...

"Ahem, can we please get back on track! You can daydream about the princess later. Right now, we've got a dungeon to raid, some treasure to collect and a tight schedule!" Midna's commanding tone snapped him back to the task at hand.

"As you command" Link mumbled with feigned annoyance, though he had to admit, he was rather enjoying this. It was almost like old times. The dynamic duo versus the world.

The royal kitchen protruded out of the main wall of the castle running along the side of the hedge maze, covered by a slanted slate roof with no visible hatches. Across the top of the outer wall were several small slits too high to reach and too small for him to fit through even if he could. No luck so far. His one remaining hope was that an opportunity for entry lay round the back of the building.

Following the path between the kitchen and the maze, his heart initially sank at the perfectly uniform stone wall that made up the rear of the kitchen. It was only as his gaze drifted skywards, preparing for an eye roll of climactic proportions at his seemingly rotten luck, that he saw it. Just below the lip of the slanting roof was a square cut-glass window and a thin ledge just wide enough to stand on. The window wasn't ideally sized or placed, as it was at the same height as the second floor of the castle and possessed dimensions barely larger than his shield.

Many would dismiss such an option as impossible, but spurred on by the presence of his companion and his memories of adventure, Link instead sought and soon found a potential solution. That solution being a small worn pillar, possible part of a larger structure at some point, that jutted out from the main castle wall, perfectly distanced between the kitchen window and the battlements that enclosed the entire castle.

"reckon you could jump that?" Came Midna's slightly mocking tones and Link could just picture her cocking her head and raising her eyebrow in disbelief. Oh, it was gonna be tricky but he would do it, if for no other reason than to prove her wrong.

With no time to waste, he dashed off towards the nearest tower to gain access to the battlements, praying that they weren't being heavily patrolled lest someone witness his supposedly suicidal antics. Reaching the top, he breathed a sigh of relief as the only guard he could spy was at the opposite side of the garden and would be out of sight of his break in attempt.

It was as he arrived at the jump position that he began to have second thoughts. The ground was a considerable distance, definitely enough to cause serious injury should he miss the pillar, which appeared little wider than your average bar stool when viewed from above. Could he really make it?

"Chickening out, are we?" His companion chirped with some amusement.

"Dream on, I'm just getting my bearings." Link replied with a hint of nervousness. He rolled his shoulders and jogged on the spot, giving the pillar the same death glare he gave to King Bublin when he kidnapped Colin. It was probably a drop of one floor from the battlements to the pillar and another from the pillar to the window. Was this all really worth it, simply to avoid an uncomfortable wait? He'd made bigger leaps on his adventures, but it's easier to justify throwing yourself from a great height when the fate of your friends and the kingdom hangs in the balance as opposed to facing a few hours of a dissatisfied stomach.

"just picture the dessert and don't think about the drop."

Link did his best to calculate the precise distance required, as his margin for error here was going to be miniscule.

Calculations complete, he took a few steps back and a deep breath to centre himself. After another brief scan of his surroundings to confirm the lack of witnesses, Link braced himself, channelling all his focus into the coming jump… and then faltered for a moment. He hadn't done anything like this since he'd saved the kingdom and he wasn't even sure whether he could without the additional power of the wolf "curse" to aid him.

"What are you waiting for. It's now or never!"

Without thinking Link's feet left the stone floor and time slowed down. It was only as he dropped that he truly comprehended the insanity of his actions. All this for a bit of food! Did he have a death wish?!

Such thoughts were knocked from his head as one foot met the top of the pillar, only for the old structure to crack from the impact. His other foot failed to find its perch and combined with the continued momentum of his overestimated leap, would have flung him forward off the tiny platform, had his fingers not dug into a crevice in the wall of the castle.

Link fought to steady himself as his gaze fell to the ground, a nerve shredding yet strangely exhilarating three floors below him. There was a rush, as more adrenaline coursed through his veins than at any point since Ganondorf's demise and despite his perilous position, he was suddenly filled with a wave of elation.

"Great going, you're halfway there" Even Midna was praising him now.

Finally steady with both feet on the platform, he took in the second half of his trail. This second jump would be trickier as he had no ran up. If he underestimated he would likely break his legs on impact with the ground, however if he overestimated he risked his face being resculpted by a thoroughly unforgiving stone wall. Despite these dangers, the buzz of adrenaline and the thrill of his first success left him feeling almost recklessly confident. He hadn't felt so alive since his duel with the dark lord.

With just a moment to compose himself, he jumped for the window. His fingers found the ledge even as his body struck the wall, hard enough to leave a bruise but luckily nothing more. His face had fortunately been spared any remodelling. He was almost there!

Of course, entering the kitchen would present its own dangers were he to get caught, and he would technically be stealing. It was safe for him to drop down from here. Perhaps he should…

Crash!

The pillar behind him crumbled and tumbled to the floor with a thunderous thud. Link almost let go in shock but managed to keep hold of the ledge, receiving another shot of adrenaline, as his heart leapt in his chest.

The crash was followed by a moments silence and Link almost managed to delude himself that he'd gotten away with it, when he heard commotion from the castle. Acting without a second thought, he hurriedly flung the window open before hoisting himself in through the gap, in the dark as to whether he would face an unguarded treasure trove or a world of trouble.

Upon entering and swiftly shutting the dirt smeared window behind him, he was plunged into very literal darkness as he seemed to be in some sort of small attic space, filled with what felt like rough sacks of potatoes, grain and other assorted vegetables and a whole lot of dust. With the sounds of two curious guards to the rear, the low slanted ceiling seemingly bearing down on him and near pitch black ahead of him, Link began to wonder whether he'd just trapped himself in a glorified store cupboard with no actual connection to the kitchen. His concerns, however, were quickly allayed as his superior vision acclimatised to the gloom to reveal a half-sized wooden door at the other end.

After some eavesdropping on the guards pouring over the mysteriously collapsed pillar outside and concluding that neither had the creativity or brainpower to come up with the correct explanation, Link turned his attention to the door and what lay beyond it. Crawling over stray sacks obstructing his path, he waded to the small hatch and, pressing his ear to it, listened for any signs of people in the next room. All that he could pick up was the crackling of a low burning fire and the occasional faint drip of a tap. The seconds passed as he waited to hear for any particularly stealthy occupants, before cautiously edging open the hatchway to peek through.

The floor beyond the door formed a ledge that extended just far enough to conceal the Kitchen that lay below. The crackling fires, of which he guessed there were two, cast a weak orange glow across the wooden beams of the vaulted ceiling, which was all he could see past the ledge. While his sight was obscured, his sense of smell wasn't and he was bombarded by a cacophony of competing aromas, some that would make anyone's nose wrinkle, others that would prompt instant salivation.

Confident the coast was clear, he ventured out onto the ledge and at last witnessed the "majesty" of the empty royal kitchens, largely bathed in dark shadows. The room was more substantial than he expected, extending into the main castle with five long regimental rows of tables, running in parallel, the centre three all decked out with chopping boards, pans and a variety of kitchen utensils. The outer rows beheld, what he suspected would be the rewards for his trials, silver platters with lids on, all neatly arranged with some definite but, thus far, undeciphered order. Directly ahead lay the entrance that he'd passed earlier, still guarded on the other side, he presumed, by the same two guards.

The room was lit by two contrasting sources, neither of which seemed able or willing to banish the heavy shadows that blanketed much of the space. To his right on the inner most wall were two huge fireplaces for spit roasting, though neither currently possessed flames worthy of their dominating presence, having burned down to little more than glowing embers, with just the occasional flickering whisper to remind you they were still alive.

On the outer wall, just below the beams of the ceiling, were the slit windows he'd spotted on his reconnaissance, that produced thin daggers of harsh sunlight that sliced through the blanket of darkness, their blades, highlighted in the slightly smoky air, too thin to truly slay the shadows. Around the room were the faint glowing pinpricks of burned down candles, like cat's eyes staring out from the gloom.

With not another soul in sight, Link dusted himself down as best he could and dropped down silently from the ledge, well aware that he could have taken the ladder next to him. He briefly glanced behind to take in what lay underneath the ledge. Three fancy looking ovens lined the wall neighbouring the fireplaces along with, what he assumed to be a servant's corridor that possibly lead up to the royal wing. A long line of pots and pans were hung from the underside of the ledge while several cupboards and the tap he'd heard dripping, lined the back wall.

He might as well take advantage of the castles miraculous water system. After all, he didn't feel like consuming dust caped food if he could help it. With extreme care he eased the tap into a gentle flow and washed his hands, including his gauntlets, which he was too lazy to remove. Plus, there was a risk he could forget them and his rather distinctive bracers being randomly being discovered in the royal kitchens would certainly raise suspicions. The only thing worse would be losing his hat in here.

Hygienically prepared, Link tiptoed across to the nearest row of silver platters, situated on the line of tables hugging the outer wall, with the sunlight blades illuminating his face. He reached out, cautiously optimistic.

Now to see whether lucky had granted him favour. He lifted the lid and a broad grin quickly formed at the gourmet delights it revealed. Oh yes, they were lucky! Thank you Midna!

"Well Midna…" Link whispered triumphantly "it looks like we've… just… struck… gold" His words trailed off and only the crackling fire responded in the otherwise smoky silence. At what point had he lost sight of his play of fantasy, that Midna had returned, being nothing more than his imagination and his memories combining? Had he really been so sad as to accept what was so clearly a pale imitation of her, just for the illusion of her company? What did that say about him?

He stood there in forlorn silence, frozen in morose contemplation, his earlier elation and triumph rapidly dissipating as his heart sank. Mischief had achieved its goal by getting him here and had promptly abandoned him to melancholia. The moments ticked by with only the fire for company. The harsh blades of light and the cold hard shadows, combined with the set rows of tables suddenly seemed reminiscent of a mausoleum.

…

Come on, he needed to move! He had no idea when a cook or servant might come bursting in. He turned his attention back to the platter, which beheld a pile of succulent cucoo legs seasoned with herbs. He picked up a couple and made quick work gnawing down to the bones. They may have been cold now but they were still delicious. Once cleaned of all edible meat, he pocketed the bones, replaced the lid and moved onto the next platter. Best to leave as little evidence as possible.

Having worked his way across four tables of platters, discovering and snacking on small portions of pork ribs, potatoes and vegetables along the way, he finally stumbled upon the true treasures of royal cuisine… the desserts! If anything would cheer him up, this would be it.

Not wishing to be too greedy with such rich treats, he decided to check what delectable options were available before picking just one… or two. Apple and cinnamon tart, fruit cake, two varieties of cheesecake…

Oh, the treasure of all treasures. Link's eyes gleamed at the sight of roughly four inches of divine chocolate delectation. It was the chocolate and raspberry tart that had left the princess in a state of indecently rapturous bliss. There was only one but that was more than enough for him, or at least it was, until he spied an equally lonely slice of treacle sponge. He had found his two choices.

Savouring the treacle sponge slice that was devoured in just two bites, the moment came to see whether it was worthy of the highly inappropriate sounds that it had prompted the prim and proper princess to emit. It certainly smelt delicious.

Link took a bite and almost had to repress a moan of his own as he got his first taste of the gooey chocolate and raspberry delight. It truly was a divine confection that brought on an almost sensual experience. As he felt the chocolate trickle down his throat savouring every drop, his mind couldn't bring forth his memory of the princesses utterly enraptured expression as she licked that stray drop from her lips.

Mhmmm. The princess really does taste grea… er, I mean, has great taste. Wow this sweet smooth nectar really does Befuddle the brain. Even his thoughts were struggling to form coherent statements. No wonder even the princess had been temporarily mesmerised by the mind mulching power of this gastronomic gem.

Despite his best attempts to prolong the experience, he soon found himself on the last piece. It was as he raise it to his mouth that he was hit by a sudden sensation warning him that someone was approaching. He was initially perplexed as he couldn't hear or smell any signs, yet as this gut feeling rapidly grew in intensity he decided to heed whatever it was and hide. The question was where?

Having not picked up any actual noises or scents to indicate direction or distance, with just a vague and inexplicable feeling that it was from the servant's corridor, Link decided it was too risky to go for the ladder back up to the attic as he may only have a few seconds. Making an executive decision, Link stuffed the last bite of tart into his mouth, leapt up onto the table and, with an additional jump, grabbed one of the beams of the vaulted ceiling and hauled himself up to perch among the rafters, concealed entirely in darkness.

He felt quite proud of his quick thinking… until he noticed his head was lighter than it had been on the ground and it certainly wasn't vertigo. "Crap!" Link cursed as he spied his hat on the floor in the gap between the table and the wall. He was just about to drop back down to retrieve it when a sudden, unnaturally low rumble caught his ears from the rough direction of the servant's corridor, though he could swear it was actually coming from one of the cupboards next to it.

Link crouched, still as a statue, his eyes fixed on the shadowy corner the sound had emanated from. His heartrate was rising again and he began to buzz as he received another dose of adrenaline. The seconds dragged as he stared unblinkingly at the darkened doorway, his heartbeat pounding in his ears. The rumble had faded, what seemed like several minutes ago and he was beginning to wonder whether he'd imaged the whole thing when his keen ears picked up the faint creaking of a door.

Picking up the faintest of movements with his exceptional night vision, Link watched as the door of the cupboard nearest the servant's entrance edged open just enough to reveal an eye peeking out into room. It scanned the room cautiously. Through the crack Link could now hear the mysterious observers breathing and heartbeat, both slightly elevated. From the breathing he would guess that it was a woman and that hypothesis was confirmed when moments later a sophisticated and undeniably feminine perfume, similar but not the same as Zelda's, drifted to his nostrils.

Link was thoroughly intrigued by this turn of events. Who was this lady? How did she get in the cupboard? How long had she been there? Had she seen him? What was her purpose here? All these questions spun round his head like a hurricane in a bottle, until the woman in question finally, hesitantly emerged from her hiding place and the hero turned thief realised, to his shock, that he recognised her.

"Dezalleena?!" Link almost blurted in surprise, but managed to suppress to a low murmur.

Dezalleena was one of Zelda's three handmaidens. She'd ran into him, quite literally, on his first patrol shift. Upon helping her back to her feet she'd quickly thanked him and apologised for her carelessness, in a distinct accent that Link felt he knew but couldn't place, wished him luck on his posting, giving him a graceful curtsey, before hastily dashing off down the corridor. He hadn't seen her since and had little notion as to her character or what she did outside of assisting Zelda preparing each morning, which explained why she seemed to smell of Zelda's perfume. Neela, who had greeted him on another of his guard shifts hadn't shed much light on the enigmatic maid, responding to his question about her with a giggle and simply saying "Oh, she's a bit secretive, but a hoot when you get to know her."

Similar in height to himself and Zelda, though he reckoned she was slightly taller and plumper than either of them, she'd looked to him to be very plain and unassuming, wearing a simple but practical blue dress with no frills or decorative flourishes. He couldn't tell the colour of the dress in the darkness but it appeared to be the same as did her long free flowing raven locks still falling down to her lower back.

His improved vision really was a boon for this sort of environment, even if it did have its odd idiosyncrasies and malfunctions, such as Dezalleena appearing to shimmer and blur as she passed through the smoke-accented blades of sunlight from the slit windows. Link continued to observe the handmaiden as she crept cautiously yet purposefully in his direction, remaining confident that while he could see her clearly through the gloom, she, with her ordinary sight, couldn't spot him, shrouded as he was, in shadow among the roof beams. She did nevertheless appear to be suspicious that she had company, as her gaze swept the room repeatedly.

He became less sure of his assumption that she couldn't see him, as she made straight for his position, and yet her eyes slipped right by his hiding spot without so much as a second glance. On abandoning her room wide sweep, it became blatantly obvious what she was after as she made a beeline right for the dessert's tables. Something told him that this wasn't her first venture of this kind into the royal kitchens as she pulled a small satchel from her back, opened it and produced a serviette from within. She seemed to know precisely what she was looking for and where to find it. A broad smirk broke onto her face as she came up to the very table he was perched above… the table that had, until he'd relieved them of their contents, bore two platters containing a chocolate and raspberry tart and a treacle sponge.

Doing his best to maintain absolute silence, Link swung himself round as Dezalleena passed underneath him and stopped in front of platter that had once held the tart, rubbing her hands together in excitement. The hero turned one-time tart napper, in a rare moment of heartlessness, leant forward in anticipation, sensing an impending case of poetic justice, as the handmaiden reached for the lid. "Go on, you're in for a surprise!" He silently urged her on.

She gripped the lid and licked her lips, as Link held his breath.

The lid was lifted revealing an empty platter and the lady's initial response was to simply gaze in confusion, blinking incredulously at a solitary crumb that lay in the centre, the lone reminder of the once glorious dessert that had now sadly departed this mortal coil. After a few seconds of baffled inaction, she replaced the lid and proceeded to going down the entire row of tables, checking every platter in search of her target, only for confusion to turn to steadily rising frustration and anger as each new platter failed to hold the delicacy she desperately sought.

Link had to restrain himself from chuckling at the display, a smug Cheshire grin cracking his features, despite the potential danger he was in. He had to admit he was enjoying the thrill it brought.

"Ha! So you thought you could steal from royalty?! Well, too bad! I stole it first…" Ok that sounded bad. Link could already tell he was going to be hit by tidal wave of guilt in a few hours, given his propensity for it, but he decided to make the most of his reckless, rebellious revelling while he could. So, back to silently gloating at the hapless handmaiden's misfortune!

Having scoured every platter in the kitchen without success, the now thoroughly irritated woman returned to the last resting place of the tart, just below Link and lifted the lid once more in the vain hope that it had miraculously appeared. Unsurprisingly it remained conspicuously absent, prompting her to slam the lid back down with a loud clang.

Startling even herself, the handmaiden recoiled, clearly aware of her mistake. The sharp sound killed any semblance of amusement Link had been holding for the situation, as this was mutually disastrous.

"What was that!" Came an alarmed voice from just beyond the main door.

"Better check" Came another, calmer and more assured.

Dezalleena ducked under the table, heart-rate jumping like a frightened hair, just as the door swung open and the same two guards he'd spied earlier peered into the gloom. The candle light from the corridor was luckily not enough to seriously encroach on the darkness's domain, but Link was still on age. The seconds crawled by as he stared at the guards and they stared, unseeing, back following the rough direction of the sound.

As he listened to the handmaidens pounding heartbeat, he couldn't help but feel slightly sorry for her. She may have done this multiple times before but it was obvious from her nerves that she wasn't a serious criminal.

Eventually the door closed and Link, without thinking, released a long-held breath. Miraculously his error was masked be the perfectly synchronised click of the door and a louder sigh of relief from below him. Dezalleena rose apprehensively from her hiding place, apparently still oblivious to his presence right above him. That meant she hadn't discovered his hat. He still had a chance to remove all incriminating evidence without anyone knowing. He was put on edge again though as he vaguely heard in the distance what sounded like an earthquake approaching.

The handmaiden, clearly deciding to cut her losses, hastily collected a couple of pastries, wrapped them in her serviette and looked to be about to employ her exit strategy when a new voice outside the door sent her scurrying once more beneath the table.

"Zorran! Borri! I trust that everything is in order" boomed a low guttural voice, through the wood.

"Err, sort of, Master Ramoh, we've heard some strange noise and we've checked in there but… we couldn't see anything." Piped up one of the guards, clearly intimidated by whoever this Master Ramoh chap was.

"Yeah, err, we think maybe… maybe it's a rat." Chipped in the other, equally nervous.

"Oh, a rat ay!" rumbled master Ramoh ominously "of the rodent or human variety?"

"We thought they only came in one variety"

"Oh no, they come in several varieties…" The master growled "all equally good… FOR SKINNING!"

The door almost flew off its hinges as it was flung open, revealing… a goron… no, a man built like a goron, blotting out any light from the doorway that tried to enter. Shaped like a boulder on legs and looking just as solid, the man was certainly imposing. What truly disturbed Link though was that, while he bore many of their same facial features as most gorons, such having the majority of his hair being on the bottom of his head, he lacked any semblance of sanity in his eyes as he stood, panting like a rabid dog that's just sniffed out some prey.

He half expecting the monster of a man, wearing the white apron and hat of a cook, to start foaming at the mouth as he barked "Keep guard on that door unless I call you! I may need help catching the bugger!"

"But our orders are…"

"Sod your orders, we are catching ourselves… A RAT!"