Chapter 13: Into the Wilds

\-==/\==-/

Link was slow to come back to himself. The concept of time was lost to him; it could have been minutes that passed as he heard voices fading in and out of his ears, or it could have been hours, or perhaps he had heard them over the course of a couple days, fading in and out of near-consciousness.

Gradually his senses returned to him. He became aware of an uncomfortable cold sensation throughout his body, despite what felt like several layers of blankets on top of him. His stomach ached, but not in a nauseating way; it felt like a muscle that had been overworked. His throat was also almost unbearably sore, and his mouth burned and tasted briny.

Wherever he was smelled strongly of herbs, soap, and clean fabric. Occasionally other scents would waft by him - sweat, metal, perfume, and more herbs.

He felt unfairly disoriented the first time he opened his eyes.

Pale sunlight wafted in through a wide window; it stung his eyes, although he adjusted quickly. The ceiling above him was comprised of smooth stone held in by simple wooden beams parallel to the wall with the window. Curtains hung down around his stiff cot, hiding him from view and hiding everything outside from him.

Agonizingly slow, his bleary mind put together a concise thought. Where… am… I?

He was exhausted; it wasn't long before his eyelids slipped closed and he once again abandoned consciousness.

The next time he awakened, the fog muddling his head had lifted somewhat, and he realized that he was lying in the castle's infirmary. The pain in his throat and stomach had lessened somewhat, and his mouth no longer tasted so much like the salt.

Slowly, with a hand on his stomach, he pushed himself into a sitting position with a grimace. Questions pounded through his mind even as his vision blacked over for a few moments. What happened? How'd I get here? Where's the Princess? Is she alright?

The last thing he could remember… He slammed his eyes shut, scowling, trying to think…

The last thing he remembered was trying to keep the Princess from eating a slice of cake. It was… poisoned…

Is she alright?

He opened his eyes, his brow heavily furrowed. Only one way to find out, I guess. I've got to get back on duty.

Link looked around slowly and reached out to tug at the curtains surrounding him. He pulled them to the side and found the infirmary nearly empty. A few physicians here and there, a couple of beds with visible patients and a few others with the curtains drawn up around them. The patients he could see each wore a long, loose nightshirt; surprised, Link looked down at himself and found that he, too, wore nothing but an overly-large white nightshirt.

His cheeks flamed with embarrassment and he looked around again, searching for his clothes. He spotted them quickly, lying neatly folded on a small table right beside his bed along with a small glass and a full pitcher of water. He reached for his Champion's tunic -

Something snapped across his knuckles and he recoiled with a startled gasp, looking up to find a tall woman with stern features glaring down at him, a wooden dowel in her hand. "You're not cleared to leave yet, young one," she told him coldly, and Link realized with a start that he was face to face with the head physician Ronelda, renowned for her strict manner in running the infirmary and its staff. Her bedside manner, according to members of the Royal Guard, was nonexistent.

Link gulped. "I -" He stopped at once, raising a hand to massage his raw throat in confusion. "I need to return to my post," he rasped.

"When you've been cleared," Ronelda rolled her eyes. "Thrice-cursed stupid of you, messing with monkshood. You're lucky not to be dead."

"Monkshood?" It was a fatally toxic plant.

Ronelda nodded. "One would think, with all the time you spend with the Princess, that you'd pick up a little something on herbal classifications."

Is the Princess interested in herbs? he thought distractedly. "But… I didn't…"

"He's clearly confused," a new voice cut in, and Link's eyes widened as Captain Janin marched up to stand beside Ronelda. "You must have other patients to tend to; I'll explain to him."

"Don't you order me around here, Guard," the head physician muttered crossly. She waved the wooden dowel in her hand dismissively at the pitcher of water on the nightstand. "Give him lots of that. Try to keep him conscious and I'll have some honeyed tea brewed for him."

"Yes, Ma'am," the Captain said patiently, with an exasperated grin in Link's direction.

"Don't let him leave his bed," Ronelda warned, slapping her dowel threateningly across her palm before turning and waddling away.

Janin leaned down closer to Link. "Very few know what really happened in the library," he murmured. "You would be wise to keep it to yourself."

"But, Sir, why… what's going on?" he asked, making no effort to quiet his voice as it was already painfully weak.

"Between Purah and the Princess, I was able to deduce what happened," Janin frowned. "Somehow you knew that the refreshments brought up to the Princess in the library were poisoned. You didn't tell her right away," he shot an accusatory glare Link's way, "and she and Purah both misunderstood what you were doing. Your behavior enraged the Princess into ordering you to eat it, you stupidly obeyed, and when you left the library you were overcome by the effects of the poison."

"I tried not to eat the poisoned part," he attempted to defend himself, wincing at how it sounded. Yeah, that was pretty dumb of me. "I… I don't remember anything after I took that first bite."

"Perhaps that's a mercy," the Captain shook his head. "It wasn't pleasant." He sighed heavily. "How did you know the cake was poisoned?"

"Not the whole thing," Link explained hurriedly. "Just… just one slice. I watched the servant pour a drop of something on top of it."

Janin smiled grimly. "I had hoped that was what happened - which is why the truth isn't being spread around. Hmm… this could work out in our favor after all…" He dragged a wooden stool closer to the bed and sat down. "What was the servant's name?"

Link's brow furrowed as he strained his memory backwards. "Erm… Serros. It was Serros."

"I'll have him tailed - if he hasn't fled the castle already," Captain Janin sighed. "Monkshood extract isn't exactly a commonality, especially among the working class. And I very much doubt that he would have come up with the idea to kill the Princess on his own. He must be working with someone, probably the Yiga Clan. If we trail him, we might find any other Yiga members here at the castle and thus eliminate a greater threat."

"Good," Link murmured, easing himself back onto the pillows. So this wasn't a total failure.

The thought came too soon. The Captain's features hardened into a stern scowl. "I want to know why you did what you did," he said. "There were many other ways you could have handled this situation and you chose probably the worst of them. What were you thinking?"

Link could feel his face heating up with shame. "I… didn't want to frighten her," he answered, avoiding Janin's glare. "I thought… even the idea of someone trying to kill her would be terrifying."

"Seven," Janin said flatly. At Link's confused glance, he added, "That's how many attempts have been made on the Princess' life so far. Believe me, she's accustomed to the notion. What she isn't used to is finding herself responsible for the near success of an assassination attempt on an unintended target. She blames herself for the fact that you were stupid enough to eat the cake, and she hates you for trying to hide that it was poisoned. She thinks you were embarrassed that an assassination attempt was happening under your watch, and you tried to hide it from her to spare your reputation."

"Sir, I wouldn't -"

"It doesn't matter," the Captain cut him off. "What does matter is that you realize that whether she feels safe or afraid is not your concern. You worry yourself with her actual safety and nothing else. Do you understand?"

Guilt bubbled in Link's gut. "Yes, Sir."

"You almost got yourself killed." Janin rubbed a frustrated hand over his bearded face. "That would have been far worse for her and for the kingdom than if she were a little frightened. You were lucky the would-be assassin was a servant and a novice, not a professional; he put in enough to kill her, certainly, but with your state of physical fitness it wasn't quite enough. I'd also readily believe that you didn't get the full does of the poison, since you didn't actually eat the entire cake. And… and Ronelda worked very hard to clean out your insides."

Link stared at him. "Wh-what?"

The Captain breathed out heavily, leaning back. "Well… when we found you on the stairs, the first thing we did was force you to vomit up the cake. I think we had to do that… perhaps two or three times, until Ronelda was convinced your stomach was empty. Then we - well, mostly she - forced you to drink large amounts of saltwater and then vomit that back up, too. They cleaned out your mouth with saltwater and some sort of herbal mixture. And… they did this about four times the first day, then two times every day except yesterday, to make sure the poison was out."

Link grimaced, rubbing his throat again. No wonder it was sore. I guess I'm glad I don't remember any of that, he thought with a shudder.

"Which reminds me," Janin muttered, plucking the cup from the nightstand and pouring it full of water. "Drink this. It was… a lot of saltwater."

Link obeyed quickly, wriggling into a sitting position and taking the little glass in both hands, eagerly downing the refreshingly cool contents. His throat hurt when he swallowed; he remembered with relief that Ronelda had mentioned honeyed tea.

"When can I get back on duty?" he asked.

Janin's deep frown returned. "When Ronelda says you're fit for it," he growled. "Link, I cannot stress the importance of this enough - you must make every effort to do your job perfectly. It did not escape the King or the General's notice that a larger, burlier guard would not have been so incapacitated by this amount of poison. And a more experienced guard wouldn't have gotten himself poisoned in the first place. You tread, always, on thin ice. Prove them wrong about you - I know you can do it."

Link moistened his lips, studying his mentor intently. His gaze didn't look very encouraging; instead it was hard and cold. There had been no hint of faith or concern in his voice - only pride. Pride in me? Or…

Or pride in himself?

He cast the uncomfortable thought from his mind and shifted his gaze to the window opposite the Captain. "So… if very few people know the truth… how have you explained this?"

Janin smiled ruefully, but without a trace of true amusement in his eyes. "It was the Princess' idea. It's quite clever, really, but you won't like it much. After visiting the library, you accompanied the Princess and her companion back to her study. She had a small monkshood plant growing there, which you unwittingly touched directly before accepting a small refreshment from the Princess. It paints you as a fool, I'm afraid, but then again - you did act foolishly."

"Yes, Sir," Link mumbled gloomily, already envisioning the taunts and jeers that the knights of the Royal Guard were no doubt already planning for him.

The Captain shrugged. "Could've been worse. Cheer up; you'll be back in action in no time - and then you'll have your chance to prove your worth to the King."

Unless I do something stupid again, Link thought darkly. How many second-chances does one get until the King loses patience? He shivered.

"Try to heal quickly," Janin sighed, clapping Link's shoulder as he got to his feet. "The King is sending Princess Zelda to Rito Village to be fitted for new winter attire. I want you on your feet and ready to protect her by the time preparations are ready."

Link nodded obediently. "Yes, Sir." The sooner, the better. Lying in the infirmary bed felt like lying in a pile of slimy eels for all the shame in his heart.

\-==/\==-/

Ronelda released him the next day, declaring grudgingly that he was fit enough to return to his duties. And not a moment too soon; when Link reported to Captain Janin after a brief training session and a quick wash, the Captain informed him with some frustration that the Princess would be heading to the stables the following dawn to embark for Rito Village.

Link spent the rest of the day training, desperately trying to make up for his week of invalidity. Much to Ronelda's chagrin, he had managed to get away with a few brief practice sessions in the infirmary, but he knew it wasn't enough. The journey from the castle to Rito Village took two days at least on horseback, and the wilds of Hyrule were growing ever more dangerous. I can't make any more mistakes!

It would be his first journey with the Princess. He had no idea what to expect.

\-==/\==-/

Once again, when the Princess left her chambers early the next morning, she didn't so much as glance in his direction. Although Link expected it, and had gotten used to being ignored by her ever since the ceremony formally appointing him as her knight, he still found himself disappointed.

After all… I haven't been here for the past week. The last she saw of me must've been when I was… when I had that poison in me. I'd have thought that… maybe she would've noticed, or said something, or…

His thoughts came to an abrupt halt when he and his charge reached the stables. Link had packed his saddlebags full of supplies the previous night; he was surprised to find those same saddlebags out of Choice's stall and resting in the grass beside his saddle, bridle, and bedroll. Choice herself had already been brought out, and a stable hand was brusquely grooming her coat.

Feeling slightly offended by the intrusion of his privacy, and saddened by the reminder that Choice wasn't really his, he jogged up to her and offered the stable hand a stern glare, wordlessly holding his hand out for the curry comb. With a frightened gulp the young boy handed him the comb and darted away to help with a much more daunting task: the Princess' horse.

He was certainly a mighty creature - one of the finest horses Link had ever seen. His coat was a snowy white, his mane and tail the shade of new wheat beneath the sun. Stable hands were hard at work braiding the stunning animal's hair, and the Princess was arguing with the stable manager about grooming her horse.

"It would be faster if one of you did it," she protested, wringing her hands. "I - I'm really not -"

"The King wishes you to grow closer with your steed," the stable manager interrupted firmly. Link was impressed by his resolve. "One way you might do this is by spending more time with him. He'll grow fonder of you the more you work together."

"I'm busy with other things," the Princess said hotly, scowling at her horse. "Besides that, I don't dare go anywhere near those hooves - I've heard that one well-placed kick is enough to kill a man!"

"Well, fortunately for you, your knight's here - he won't let that happen to you," the stable manager pointed out. "He's a fine horseman himself. I'm sure he'll keep you from doing anything stupid."

The Princess ground her teeth together in frustration. "Never mind that. The point is, this animal is just as fond of me as I am of him. I won't be doing him any favors unless he earns it."

"Princess…" the stable master shook his head in exasperation. "You know what, never mind. Go ahead and make a fool of yourself on your own horse, as always. Your father will be delighted to hear of it, I'm sure."

The Princess' cheeks flushed a bright red, and Link couldn't keep his eyebrows from lifting in surprise. Bold words.

"Ah, Link, I'm glad I caught you."

He turned, erasing emotion from his face as Captain Janin neared with a pouch in his hand, small enough to hang easily from a belt. "What's this?" he asked.

Janin held out the satchel. "Compensation, of sorts. Where possible, you'll be staying at an inn. If you stay in Tabantha Village, the town magistrate has offered to board you in his house - which is far nicer than their inn; it wouldn't be right for the Princess of the kingdom to stay there." He cleared his throat. "She'll have only the finest room wherever she goes, but of course that has to be paid for. That's what this money's for - paying for the Princess' stay wherever you end up for the night."

Link took the pouch and looped it to his belt next to his own wallet. "Yes, Sir."

The Captain gripped his shoulder firmly. "This is a big moment for you, Link. Don't blow it." He turned to leave but had only gone a few steps before glancing back over his shoulder. "Oh, and… although it's late summer down here, there'll be signs of autumn up in Hebra. Don't let yourself get too cold."

"Yes, Sir," Link nodded, and Janin continued his march back into the castle.

With Choice saddled and travelling supplies fastened to her back, there wasn't much else to do. The Princess hesitated to mount her horse, eying him uncertainly as the stable master grudgingly agreed to fetch a mounting block. Link did his best to hide his amusement as her horse looked at her with the exact same measure of distaste and hesitation. If we were better acquainted -

He quickly corrected his train of thought. If I were better at speaking to people, better at being friendly in general, maybe I could give her a few pointers.

His gut clenched as he measured his stirrup irons against his arms. Not likely. Especially considering what she already thinks of me. And considering how nothing I do really entices anyone to want to be around me.

It's hardly likely that the Princess of Hyrule would ever want to hear anything I'd have to say.

And I'm forbidden to speak with her anyway, so there's that, too.

His chest deflated with a heavy sigh, and he double checked the standard knight's bow hooked to the Master Sword's scabbard and the quiver of arrows at his hip. He would have preferred his hunting bow, which had a lighter draw weight and was thus easier to string and draw back in a pinch. The knight's bow, in comparison, was far heavier – though by no means the heaviest warbow used by the armies of Hyrule. Stringing it required a bowstringer – a long length of bowstring that he looped around the string nocks at either end of the bow and held down with his foot for leverage so that he could bend the bow enough to place the actual bowstring. Although it wasn't at all healthy for the bow to remain strung for long periods of time, it was the Guard's policy not to unstring their bows until the end of a mission. It was far easier to replace a bow than a soldier, and the precious minute it took to string a heavy warbow could mean the difference between life and death if caught off guard by an enemy. Once strung, Link could draw it back a few times without too much trouble, but by the tenth consecutive arrow his aim would begin to suffer as his arms wobbled. Better hope that if I need it, I can take out whatever's attacking in one hit.

It was a bit annoying, he thought. Most foes they encountered would be the usual monsters – bokoblins, lizalfos, moblins, maybe even a lynel – although he dearly hoped not. Nonetheless, his sixty-pound hunting bow was more than sufficient to get through even their thick hide to fatally pierce the organs beneath. The only reason Janin insisted upon a warbow – and this one was about ninety pounds – was that it wouldn't be unreasonable for the Yiga Clan to have plate or mail armor. Only heavier bows possessed the power to send arrows through armor, and even then different kinds of armor required different arrowheads. So it was that, all in the name of preparation, Janin had him equipped with the knight's bow and two quivers of arrows for that bow – fleshcutter broadheads and needle bodkins – to prepare for the various armors he might encounter.

Stupid Yiga. I'd probably be fighting them up close with my sword to begin with. My bow would've been perfectly fine.

Considering, he debated inwardly about sending a stable boy back into the castle to fetch a shield, but Choice was already carrying all of the travelling gear for the two of them, and they would be riding hard to get to Rito Village as soon as possible.

Wouldn't be fair to make her carry a heavy shield, too. Maybe I'll see about getting one of those lighter Rito shields while we're there.

"Safe travels, Princess," the stable master huffed, turning away from her to roll his eyes as he pulled the mounting block away.

"Thank you," the Princess growled, sitting stiff in her horse's saddle with her hands clenched around the reins. She clicked her teeth and nudged his sides; with a slight toss of his head the reluctant animal walked forward. Link quickly hopped up into his own saddle, urging Choice to follow with a slight squeeze of his knees.

Everyone around them quickly returned to their usual responsibilities; stable hands and squires scurried away back to the halls they came from, leaving the early morning still and silent save for the scrape of shod hooves on stone and the twittering of birds nesting under eaves or perched upon turrets up above. A slight breeze smelling of warmth and green life lifted Link's hair from his face, and he felt his shoulders relax. It's been too long since I've gotten out with Choice. Maybe this won't be too bad.

\-==/\==-/

The thought had come too soon. The Princess' bad mood transmitted to her horse, whose anxiety and discomfort made Choice uncomfortable as well. It was the first time since Link had first broken her in that he could remember struggling with her.

The silence between them was thick and dreary, a near-tangible force pressing down on their shoulders. On his own, Link enjoyed silence when going out for a ride. But whenever other horses were involved, there was bound to be conversation of some sort. It was never really directed towards him, of course, but there would be chatter amongst the other knights, or a sweet little one-sided conversation between a knight and his horse. If silence ever did fall, it was comfortable. Hyrule was a land of incredible beauty, and Link had never come across anyone who disagreed; his comrades were often content to ride in wordless appreciation of the natural splendor around them.

The Princess' silence now held none of that contentment. She sat tall and rigid in the saddle, and riding behind her Link couldn't see her face, but he could nonetheless tell she wasn't happy. It was evident in the way she refused to turn her head, refused to risk even the slightest glance at him; it was evident in the way her proud white gelding tossed his head against the bit and hesitated to obey his rider's commands.

Clouds rolled slowly across the sky as they travelled, steadily building above them. Link felt a few drops of rain as they passed through the little settlement housing the quarry workers; a small crowd gathered in the road to watch them go by, consisting mostly of children and their mothers.

Silence, once again. The adults among the onlookers regarded them warily, with straight brows and downturned lips, while the young ones whispered excitedly amongst themselves. They did not fully comprehend that the two who rode between their homes were more than just a knight and the Princess - they were, in essence, confirmation of evil's return, and the kingdom's failure to be fully prepared.

One bold little girl dashed forward with a light giggle, reaching out as if to touch the horses before her mother scooped her up and carried her away, murmuring hushed scoldings. As if a spell had been broken the gathering began to disperse, the silence replaced by eager whispering and furtive glances back towards the two travellers.

One would think that the Princess would be received more enthusiastically, Link thought with a slight frown, watching carefully as the Princess' shoulders began to sag. I suppose… I suppose local gossip doesn't run in her favor.

It didn't run in his, either, but that didn't bother him anymore, or so he told himself. I'm used to it, and I can't blame them, considering I've done nothing to deserve this title, and that what I have done has been… just short of disaster.

But, the Princess… why can't they see how much she is doing? Why does everyone have to turn a blind eye to the good that she accomplishes?

He ground his teeth together, his gaze once again flitting to the Princess' gracefully bowed head before him as they crossed Carok Bridge. He felt helplessly separated, as if he were watching the Princess from behind a thick glass window. There was nothing he could do for her, and nothing she would want from him.

The sun emerged briefly as they entered the Breach of Demise. A thin column of smoke curled up further into the canyon; Link hopped lightly down from Choice's back and unhooked the knight's bow from the Master Sword's scabbard. Most likely monsters, he decided, not recalling any settlements in the area. He chewed his lip for a moment, debating – Take care of them from here, and hope there aren't very many? Or go in closer and use my sword?

But if I did that, and one of them was an archer, the Princess would be an easy target. He drew a fleshcutter from his quiver, clipping it to the bowstring and holding it in place against the bow with a finger.

He was right; there was a little camp of red and blue bokoblins right next to the trail just around a bend in the walls of jagged cliffs. Not very old, judging by the small size of the rubbish piles around their fire. Eyes narrowed, he pulled his arrow back to his cheek and took a moment to aim, carefully estimating the distance. Then he let it fly, drawing a startled gasp from the Princess and angry grunts from the distant bokoblins as their comrade staggered back in agony, the arrow protruding from its chest.

The monsters looked around in outrage, scanning for their hunter; Link loosed two more arrows, downing a bokoblin with each. The Princess pulled her horse off to the side of the trail, giving him more space as the remaining four monsters ran for the weapons. Link's arrows soon found their lungs.

By the time he and the Princess reached the camp they were dead, and he dismounted, retrieving his arrows – thanking the Goddesses that none had hit bone; they all seemed undamaged – and pulling the bokoblins' bodies into the fire as quickly as he could. The ground around them was hard stone; the fire would devour the corpses without spreading to anything else. This is a well-travelled road. I can't just leave it stinking with monster corpses.

He winced, turning away from the flames and jogging back to Choice, who was waiting for him patiently.

The Princess had halted her horse as well, but the glint in her eyes was decidedly less patient. She didn't say anything, looking not at him but at her tense hands curled around her reins. A needle of guilt pricked Link's heart; he fought the urge to shake his head in frustration with himself as he swung up into Choice's saddle once more. My job is to protect the Princess, not the roads of Hyrule. I'll have to leave the bodies on the road if we encounter monsters again.

He nibbled thoughtfully at his lip, imagining for a brief moment that the next group to travel the path behind them consisted of a family with young children. What would they think - how frightened would they be - by the sight of slaughtered monsters just off the trail?

Link grimaced. He couldn't bring himself to take that chance. And yet cleaning up after his battles, while it was something he had been taught to do his entire life, could distract him from the Princess' safety. So… I'll just be more vigilant as I'm doing so.

As they turned northward at a fork in the canyon path, rain began once more to drizzle softly down from the gray clouds hovering above. Link slipped his cloak around his shoulders, pulling the hood over his head and tucking the edges around his body to protect his weapons from the water. Ahead of him, he watched the Princess pull her own hood up over her hair, holding the reins with one hand while she pulled the edges of her cloak closed around her chest.

The gentle late-summer storm continued the rest of the day, turning the firmly-packed dirt of the trail into mud, bringing a chill to what would have been a lovely warm day. As they passed the Royal Ancient Lab, just barely visible over rolling eastern hills, the Princess slumped lower in her saddle and Link found her glancing occasionally in that direction.

Has she ever been there before? He doubted it, but he hoped she'd get the chance someday.

They reached Serenne Stable at dusk. The Princess dismounted stiffly, wobbling with fatigue as she handed her horse off to one of the workers. Link reluctantly relinquished Choice as well, keeping pace behind the Princess as she walked into the stable's inn area, lowering her hood and shaking her golden hair free. His nose twitched. It smelled good inside; many of the guests were seated around tables stacked high with warm rolls and fresh stews, filling the stable's entry hall.

"A room, please," the Princess said wearily to the stable manager just inside behind a tall desk.

"Yes, Princess," the man bowed. "The private rooms are in the back, down the hall. A hot bath will be drawn for you at once." He snapped his fingers, craning his neck to peer over her shoulder and grab the attention of a serving girl wiping down an empty table. The girl nodded, taking her supplies back into a small closet nearly hidden by the tables before disappearing down a candlelit corridor.

"Please have my supplies brought to my room," the Princess continued. "They were attached to the back of my saddle. And have a meal brought in as well; I… I do not wish to dine in public this evening."

"Of course," the stable manager nodded, scribbling notes down in the ledger perched on his desk. "We'll put you in number six."

With a polite inclination of her head, the Princess turned and began making her way to the tables. Link snatched the pouch of rupees Janin had equipped him with. "How much?"

"A hundred and fifteen," the manager said, clasping his hands together in front of him. "Add thirty more to that if you wish to pay for tomorrow's breakfast and the care for the horses now instead of in the morning. And for your own room, we'll add -"

"I'm not renting a room," Link muttered disgruntledly, remembering why he preferred to camp out in the wilderness instead of staying at an inn. Much too expensive for something I can easily do outdoors on my own.

Building a fire, cooking, constructing a shelter if necessary, tending to his horse… it was much simpler, and much less draining, than spending a week's wages on room and board.

Although, granted, that's a week's wages for me – the Captain's ward, who's lucky to be paid at all. No other Royal Guard would have an issue.

Only when he placed the rupees on the stable manager's desk did he notice the man's wide-eyed expression. "You… won't be renting a room for yourself," he said slowly. "Do you mean to say -"

"Of course not," Link growled, his cheeks coloring. He tried to harden his expression into a scowl to hide his embarrassment. "I'm her guard. I watch the door, keep people out; I don't sleep, so I don't need a room."

It was the stable manager's turn to blush. "Right," he gulped, sweeping the rupees into his hands. "I apologize, Sir. Most boorish of me."

Link inhaled deeply, rubbing the side of his head in frustration as he followed the Princess through the maze of tables and chairs and into the back hall. After a thorough sweep of her room, locking the window and examining the interior of the wardrobe and the little washroom for possible hiding places or trapdoors, he stepped outside and assumed his position by the door, his shoulders straight and his hands clasped behind his back.

The Princess ignored him all the while.

The night passed agonizingly slowly and without incident. Link didn't have much trouble staying awake; it hadn't been a particularly strenuous day, and since becoming the Princess' knight he had been practicing going with little to no sleep, knowing that eventually he'd be on guard for days on end.

The last of the stable's guests hobbled into their beds several hours after midnight, one man explaining to his patient friend about the dragon wreathed in flame he'd supposedly seen flying through Tanagar Canyon. His giddy tone of voice and slurred words revealed his drunkenness, and Link was reminded with amusement of Sir Farthong waking up half the Royal Guard when he stumbled back into the barracks after his day off.

Dragons. Hah! Nothing but children's fairytales.

His amusement faded a little. While the other children of age five - most of them either children of knights or castle servants - staged imaginary battles against dragons and monsters to rescue 'princesses' in danger, Link had been fighting real monsters that dealt very real wounds. While they had dreamed of magic and sweets and fairies, he dreamed of death, blood, and fear. If they scraped a knee or cut a finger they would run crying to their mother, who kissed them better and enfolded them in a comforting embrace.

An old scar - very old - along his thigh seemed to itch. He had cried then, and the others in training, all much older, laughed at him. The Captain warned him not to cry, not to show any weakness, especially when wounded. "Let your enemies overestimate your strength," he taught, rewarding tears with a harsh slap to the face.

There was no mother he could turn to for comfort. In fact, there hadn't been anyone at all until he met Choice, devoting himself to her training and care and in turn winning her loyalty and love.

A soft sound drew him from his musings. Link leaned towards the Princess' door, listening closely, his brow furrowed with concern. He could hear sharp breaths and sniffles, soft little whimpers and shaking cries of unhappiness. His hand flew to the Master Sword's hilt and he eased the door open, his eyes scouring the darkness for any sign of a threat.

In the weak line of light let into her room from the half-open door, something wet glistened on her cheeks as she lay curled on her side beneath the blankets. His heart jumped thinking it was blood, but he quickly realized that they were just tears. His pulse returned to normal, and a stab of sympathy and understanding pierced his soul.

There's no mother she can turn to, either.


Updated 7/8