Hello my lovelies! So sorry for not updating sooner. Things have been rough and I got caught up watching Fullmetal Alchemist so... Oops? ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Anywho, enjoy this chapter! I tried to make it a bit longer, but I think I'm catching a cold, so I'm going to write up some more tomorrow, hopefully. I can promise you all, Wild will wake in the next chapter. I'm sleep deprived and fatigued, so if there are mistakes I didn't catch, feel free to tell me! Thank you all for reading, favoriting, following, and reviewing!

-WingedIceWolf

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN THE LEGEND OF ZELDA OR ANY OF ITS CHARACTERS!

~Thanks to HylianHarmony for being one of my muses and helping me with this story!~

Within a few seconds, Link had already spooned a large glob of honey into his mouth, sighing in content at the smooth, rich flavor that he was graced with. He leaned his head back a little and smiled, licking every last drop of the nectar from the metal spoon, then licked his lips. As much as he'd love to drain the honeypot, it wouldn't be courteous with his guest still slumbering beside him.

He had to ignore the temptation to devour all the honey, reluctantly setting the jar down and twirling his thumbs, biting his lower lip as he stared up at the ceiling, wondering what he could do to pass the time as his eyes wandered over the crevices he had seen many times in his life within the rough wood. He was pretty certain Wild wouldn't be waking anytime soon and Link didn't want to waste time sitting around.

Link had told Fado he wasn't feeling the best, so he couldn't return to the ranch later to heard the goats in his spare time, as much as he wanted to and as he was accustomed to. Fishing wasn't really an option either, seeing as if Fado had returned to his house, he would scold Link for being out and about instead of resting. Not that it was uncommon, Link would just rather avoid the lectures pouring from Fado's mouth about how stubborn he was, how he should take time off for himself, and so forth. Link even more so wanted to avoid the attention.

That seemed to be a family trait, however. Aside from their blonde hair, blue eyes, green tunics, and blue looped earrings, Links throughout history were well known for their stubbornness. Hylia's Chosen Hero refused to give into the torture he endured for years, all because he was framed for a crime he did not commit. The Hero Of The Sky, despite being knocked down again and again, receiving injury after injury, refused to give up in his search to free his Zelda.

And one of his favorite Heroes. The Hero Of Time.

The Hero Of Time's story was a tragic one, one Link found he was fascinated by. Link couldn't fathom skipping seven years of age, still trapped in the mindset of a nine-year-old, while having to go about his adventure to save Hyrule. And even worse, waking up to an entire town crawling with rotting, screeching, foul smelling ReDeads.

Link shuddered at the thought. He himself had faced ReDead Knights, but it always made him uneasy to recall those moments when he was screaming in pain, curled up on the floor with his hands clamped over his ears, a blade raised over his head. The way they screamed, the way their rotting teeth flashed as they bent themselves backward, mouth gaping wide, only to scream. The way their bloodied bandages flapped, the way their armor clinked together and boned feet scraped against stone.

The Hero had a lot of empathy for his predecessor... However, he couldn't fully understand all of what he had been burdened with. That Hylian, taken in as a Kokiri had the fate of Hyrule thrust upon him at age nine, lying dormant for seven years within the Light Temple, only to open the Sacred Realm to the exact man he was determined to destroy.

Ganondorf.

The Hero of Twilight had thought and thought about what he would have done if in the Hero Of Time's place, but he simply couldn't wrap his head around it. How could you live on, knowing you are the reason so many people suffered? Knowing Hyrule would fall because of you?

Link's eyes fell shut, his hands resting in his lap as he took a deep inhale of air, letting out a slow exhale. The fate of Hyrule and the Twilight Realm had once rested upon his shoulders… And there was plenty of times when he nearly failed both realms. In most cases, that was due to an injury, but there were a few cases where his recklessness came into play as well. For example, ruthlessly attacking a Skulltula after just receiving an arrow to the shoulder only to have a fang sink into his arm.

The Hero cringed a little, sighing and rubbing the back of his neck. When he was younger, he wanted nothing more than to be like the Hero Of Time, even going as far as naming his own steed after the Hero Of Time's loyal, four-legged companion, Epona. But when he learned he was the Hero Chosen by The Gods, it made him understand just how big of a burden being a Hero truly is.

Link glanced back at the young man beneath the blanket, sleeping soundly. His ears twitched and his eyes flicked beneath his eyelids, but he did not wake. The Hero silently hoped and prayed this young man was not a Chosen himself. His soul begged this young man could at least keep his innocence and childhood before the fate of a Hero could strip him of it.

Link reached out, pulling the blanket aside, and took Wild's left hand that was resting against his chest. He raised his warm, scarred hand to the light, rubbing it slightly with his thumb, but he did not see the three triangle mark upon his skin. Not even the faintest sign of its existence. All the Chosen Heroes had the Triforce Of Courage, sporting a green garb as well, so this young man couldn't be a Link himself.

Could he?

When Wild woke, Link would have to be careful not to bombard him with questions, even though he was eager for answers. After all, he doubted his guest would be so quick to share in his backstory, especially after going through something as traumatizing as whatever caused his burns. And by their appearance, it should have claimed his life.

Link set Wild's hand back in its position and covered him back up, having nearly forgotten about the tea upon the table. He removed the strainer from his now yellow-green brew and poured some honey into the glass, using his spoon to mix it. The warmth of the hot glass against his skin was more than comforting, helping him focus despite the slight burning it gave off when in contact with his hand.

He sipped the hot tea, trying not to burn his tongue in the process. The tea was still very much hot, however, so he set it back down, figuring he would let it cool. The glass originally for Wild, however, was untouched.

Guess I'm having two cups of tea… Link thought a little sadly to himself. He stretched out his sore legs before rising, going to the shelf behind his ladder where several different books with covers of varying colors were placed. As much as Link liked to keep things organized, whenever he would organize the books, a day or so later, they'd be in a jumbled mess again.

Link was what you would consider a bookworm. He was well known for shoving his face in books instead of paying attention when someone was trying to talk to him. They would repeat his name, only for him to look up confused at them, far too entranced by his book. Even if he had read the book countless times, it wouldn't change the fact he could easily get lost in them.

However, Link wasn't quite in the mood for reading right now. At the moment, he was more motivated to draw out the young man asleep upon his couch. Link was told by many that he was a fine artist, but he was always self-conscious about his art. Good art or not.

It had been a while since Link had sketched anything out. Some practice wouldn't hurt. His fingers grazed over the spines of the books until they found a leather-bound sketchbook Rusl had given to him as a gift. Link slid the book from the shelf and reached onto the top of the shelf where he usually kept his pencil, easily finding the drawing utensil.

He then returned to Wild after blowing dust from the cover, sitting down before him and opening his journal to a blank page, flattening the page out. His pencil, despite not being used in a while, was still rather sharp, so it wouldn't need sharpening anytime soon.

Link tapped the pencil to his lips as he thought. Just what exactly should he draw for Wild? He knew next to nothing about the young man, but judging by his scars, he was quite the adventurer. An idea formed in Link's head, so he went with it, sketching Wild's entire form instead of drawing just his face or him asleep upon the couch.

Link drew the young man perched atop a cliff side, gazing into the horizon as the sun rose over the mountains that jutted up from the earth. Occasionally, he had to put his pencil down to grasp his cup of tea, sip at it, then continue on. The mint within the tea aided in his focus and his running mind.

Both of Wild's hands rested upon a blade that's tip had been stabbed into the ground, his hair pulled up behind his head with the exception of the two strands in the front, drifting in the breeze. When he had finished the drawing, he sat back and observed his work.

The sunlight, though in muted colors of white, black, and dark gray, hit Wild's face just right, him standing tall, a slight smile upon his face. A smile that seemed to say, "A new dawn, a new day, holding new promise." Link smiled, closing his sketchbook after signing his name in Hylian and rotating his now sore wrists.

He had become so sucked into his work that both the glasses had become cold, but he cared not. He downed his first cup, licking his lips, then doing the same for Wild's. He again rose, took the two glasses to his sink, and washed them out before returning them to the shelf.

Link had a long day ahead of him, he might as well make use of it. He washed his clothes in a basin only to later hang them on his ladder to dry, reorganizing his shelves to give them a neater look as he used a wet rag to remove the dust that had gathered there. The Hero then swept his floors, polishing them until the wood shone, too polishing the windows, keeping one window open to let in the cool breeze as he did so.

Working with the fire still going had made him slightly overheated, but he continued. Being a ranch hand, Link hated having to sit around, doing nothing when work could be done. It was something that had been wired into his brain. Even when he was sick, he'd rather be up and about than "taking things easy".

As hours passed, the house became plenty tidy and clean, the fire dying down to cold ashes. Link stood at his entryway and looked around, satisfied with his work. There wasn't a speck of dust in sight, save the high ceiling he couldn't reach, and his floor was so shiny, he could see his own reflection in it. His books were organized again by title and color, his clothes cleaned and dry, folded neatly and placed within his dresser. His dishes were stacked neatly on the shelves, all clean and dry, the utensils placed in a drawer. It was past the afternoon now, so food would be needed soon. The Hero just hoped the young man would wake soon.

Link took an apple from his fruit basket, stepping outside and sitting on the ledge that served as his porch. Taking a pocket knife, he cut the apple into chunks, taking a slice and popping it into his mouth. His legs dangled off the ledge as he watched a hawk circle overhead.

His banner, hanging above his doorway, flapped gently as the golden light that shone down upon him cast long shadows upon the ground. The smell of Autumn leaves that danced across the earth, guided by the wind, filled the air, along with the sweet aroma of pumpkins coming from the village.

The Hero's stomach growled slightly.

I should get some food, not just an apple for a snack. As tasty as it is, an apple alone won't do much for sustenance. Link thought as he cut yet another slice from the rich, juicy apple, chewing upon it with a slight crunch. His gaze wandered to the saddle upon his post, right where Fado had said he would place it. I should probably feed Epona too…

He finished off his apple, throwing the core into the grass, then entering the house to return his knife to his kitchen. After washing the knife and inserting it into a wooden block for safe keeping, he brushed off his hands and turned around to face Wild.

"Alright, Wild. I'll be leaving again," Link said as he took a paper and his pencil, writing a note just in case. He set it down upon the table, along with a few apples, using an apple as a paperweight of sorts, before continuing. "Just in case you wake up while I'm gone, there's a note right here explaining where I've gone. I won't be out too long. I'm just going to take Epona to the spring and get us some food when we come back."

Link then ruffled Wild's hair after shoving a few apples for Epona into his pouch, retrieving his sandals, from the doorway, along with Epona's brush, stepping outside of the house. He rubbed his sandals together to free them of the caked mud, then slipped them back on, taking the brush as he climbed down from the ledge, onto the ground.

Link then walked to the Spring upon a well traveled, dirt road, humming gently to himself as he did so, looking up at the golden pine trees around him that swished in the wind. Upon reaching the spring, his sandals sinking into the sand, he set the brush down, plucking a plant in the shape of a horseshoe.

Raising the Horsegrass to his lips, he blew into the reed in such a way that a gentle melody flew from it. Within what felt like seconds, Epona came galloping up to him, neighing in greeting as she butted Link's shoulder, knocking him back into the water without a warning.

"E-epona!" Link barely managed to yell before splashing into the spring, sending ripples throughout the waters. The steed made a series of neighs that sounded like a chuckle, her ears perked and tail swishing, expecting him to get back up. He only glared slightly up at her, shivering and wringing out his hair with his hands. "Well, I was going to give you an apple or two, but guess not."

You would not keep a treat from your loyal mare, would you? Epona teased, trotting around him playfully before leaning down to nibble upon his hair. Link smiled in likeness and gently shoved her head away before rising slowly, his arms wrapped tight around his body. You were in need of a bath anyway.

"Aw, do I really not care for my hygiene that much, Epona?" Link pouted playfully, trying to keep his teeth from chattering.

That is not for me to say, Hero. The steed replied, stretching out her neck to lap at the water that poured between the glowing, swirled rocks. Link scratched her ears gently, despite being dripping wet. Even being freezing cold, it was admittedly refreshing. After taking a long drink of the cold waters, she turned back to her rider. How is he?

"Who?"

The young man. How is he?

"Ah, Wild. He hasn't woken up yet, sadly," Link began as he took the brush from the sand, shaking it off, then starting to brush out Epona's mane. "There's so much I want answers to… I hope he wakes quickly."

Patience, my rider. He will wake in time. His injuries were rather severe and despite the Light Spirit's healing, he must work on his own to bring himself back to full consciousness. It would be best not to overwhelm him with questions.

Link nodded, sighing. "Yeah, you're probably right..."

When I am I not right? Epona teased, a deep rumble sounding in her barrel-like chest as she pulled at the pouch upon his hip. Link's hand came to grasp her snout gently, pushing her away.

"Not yet, Epona," Link stated a little firmly. "At least let me finish brushing you down."

So be it.

And there you have it, my lovely readers. The next chapter. I planned this chapter to be much longer, but I am feeling too sick to continue writing... Again, thank you all for reading, following, favoriting, and reviewing!

-WingedIceWolf