I was happy with most of the reviews I got on the last chapter. I see some of you are actually following the story closely. Yay! Some things may be a little hard to understand, but please just try. And thanks for all the reviews.

-O-

Link worked with Night Rider as long as he could until sunset, and then it grew too dark to really see what he was doing, so he took the tack off of the horse and went to the stable. The lanterns that were nailed to the walls were burning, but no one save the horses were inside. He lay the saddle and bridle in the lower corner and noticed that the arrow he had accidentally shot earlier was still in the wall. He wondered if Dorobis knew, and if Artos had kept his word about the untrue story he said he would tell. Link did not exactly consider it a lie, for it was to be done to save Link pain- if it was done at all, but Link had gotten to trust Artos by now, and he did not worry about it.

It was too early in the night to go to sleep, so he wanted to find some other work to do. He was not happy being idle and never had been. The only thing he liked to stand around for was to talk with Jennan, but it had been difficult to do so now that Dorobis had returned home. Link had always been short with words, but when talking to Jennan it was unusually different. He somehow managed to keep a conversation going, and he was now at the point to where he actually felt comfortable around her.

It was certainly no secret that Jennan had feelings for him, and she had tried to say so by the creek last week but had had word trouble. After Link had interrupted her and told her he felt the same way, he knew it could have turned out foolish. What if she had been saying "Link, I really hate you and wish you'd leave", and he had replied, "I feel the same way about you"? He could have made himself look very stupid at that point, but luckily she was saying exactly what he had thought she was, and all seemed to be well now.

He discovered himself looking forward to their nightly talks. They never seemed to run out of things to talk about, which was very unusual for Link, but if he grew quiet, Jennan would keep the conversation going and then he'd find something else to say. He found her company very enjoyable.

He left the stable and went in search of Artos in the twilight, but he was nowhere to be seen. Link figured he was probably down across the pasture in Dorobis' dwelling, and Link certainly was not going down there. Jennan had told him that Dorobis could hardly leave his bed because of his broken ribs, which had been made worse during the journey, just as Ima had said.

Link passed by the house, and from the dim light coming from inside the windows saw Rhashidi's form lying sleeping on the porch, Gelert sitting at his side. Link remembered the strict orders he had received to stay away from the house, but he did not care right now and Dorobis was nowhere around to see him. Henry might be, but Link did not worry about him. Henry had amazingly left him alone ever since Link had beaten him bloody when he had first tried to escape with Epona. He had been so intent on getting away that day that he wondered what would have happened to Henry had Dorobis and Minhan not separated them. Link did not like to think that he would have killed the young man, but sometimes he even found himself unpredictable.

He quietly stepped up onto the porch, keeping an eye on the window and hoping Dorobis was not inside, and bent down to Rhashidi. He laid a hand on the wolf-boy's shoulder and gave a gentle shake. "Rhashidi. Are you all right?"

Rhashidi sat up stiffly and moaned softly. In his overly deep, quiet voice he said, "I don't feel well."

Gelert sat there thumping his tail on the porch as Link put a hand on Rhashidi's forehead and felt for fever. His gloves prevented feeling temperature, but his fingers were bare and he could feel the hot sweat under his friend's bangs. "No wonder," Link whispered. "You have a fever."

Rhashidi's wounds from his battle with the mountain cat were healing up quickly, and he had been lucky to escape infection, but something else was obviously wrong here. Link had known Rhashidi long enough to know that the boy's immune system was very strong, and he was seldom ill. "Everything aches," Rhashidi said quietly.

The two of them had taken care of each other for the past two years, and it had made it easy to build their friendship. Link stood up and took a deep breath, then knocked on the door. If Dorobis answered, well, Link did not know what he would do to escape punishment. Probably nothing, for he refused to show fear to the man, and he did not want to cause a commotion. He just wanted to get Rhashidi checked over by Ima and get back to work.

He was relieved to see that it was Jennan who opened the door, and she looked surprised to see him. Her long, shiny black hair was not put up tonight, and it cascaded loosely over her shoulders and all the way past the middle of her back. It was trimmed at the bottom and had a rounded-off look, and rippled with small waves. "Link," she said, in the same breathy way she always said his name, and he loved how she said it.

"Jennan," he replied, after swallowing hard, and then he got to the point. "I need to see Ima. Rhashidi's sick."

Jennan's dreamy and soft look turned to one of concern. "Oh," she said, with alarm in her voice. She came out onto the porch and knelt beside Rhashidi. "What feels bad?"

"Everything," Rhashidi said quietly. "My head hurts." He kept blinking hard, as if he was having trouble focusing.

"All right." Jennan stood up and passed by Link, brushing his arm with her hand on the way into the house, and then returned a few minutes later with Ima.

"Rhashidi, you're sick?" Ima said, bending over the boy.

Rhashidi shrugged, and Link could tell that he was uncomfortable with being the one that everyone was looking at, and Jennan noticed this too. She turned away and stood at the edge of the porch with her arms crossed daintily, as if what was going on behind her was no concern of hers.

"Come inside and I will have a look at you," Ima said, and beckoned Rhashidi to get up. Rhashidi looked at Link reluctantly, and the latter nodded towards the door to show that the wolf-boy should go. Rhashidi stood up slowly and followed Ima inside, and then the door closed behind them, cutting off the lantern light that had been lying across the porch. Jennan and Link were alone now, and after a few moments of silence, she walked slowly down the steps, her skirts swaying, and continued on absentmindedly while looking at the stars. Did she want him to come with her, or leave her alone? Link did not know, but he followed her, leaving Gelert on the porch, and she smiled when he caught up beside her.

They were silent again as the walked slowly up the trail, and Link hooked his thumbs in the belt loops of his tunic and stared at the ground. Dorobis would kill him if he saw this, but Link was not in the mood to think about that. He would rather focus his attention on Jennan, who was still looking at the sky with a small smile on her face.

"Do you think Rhashidi's all right?" she finally said.

Link cleared his throat. "I don't know. Probably."

Link's words hung on the air and that was the end of that topic, and they continued on without saying anything. Link wondered if he should speak up, but could not think of anything to talk about; and besides, the silence did not seem to bother Jennan. She was so intent on staring at the sky that Link finally looked up to see what interested her so. Nothing seemed to be out of the ordinary, but he saw that the stars were beautiful tonight and there was an enormous full moon.

Jennan stopped beside the stable and leaned her back against the outside wall. The stable was horizontal to the trail, so she was against the far side. Link stood beside her and waited patiently for her to speak again when she was ready, but she still stood with her arms crossed and her eyes focused on the sky. Her hair reflected the moon's light and thus looked even more beautiful. Link was not used to seeing her with her hair down, but he liked it either way.

"The stars are beautiful," she whispered.

Link relaxed. "Yes."

Night sounds followed after, and the call of a red-eyed heron sounded. A soft breeze blew through the trees and moved their hair, and Jennan pushed a loose strand of hers from her mouth with a finger. Link heard her sigh with content, and then he finally thought of something to say.

"Jennan, I haven't thought to ask until now... what's the name of this country?"

She laughed very softly. "You're in Carrickfergus. I suppose someone should have told you."

"No reason if I didn't ask," Link said good-naturedly. "I'm just used to going to different places and not bothering with the name." He leaned on his left shoulder on the wall beside her, and studied her carefully. Her hair swayed at the sides of her face, and her eyes remained on the sky. Nearly ten minutes of comfortable silence passed, and then Jennan finally turned her gaze to him.

"Link," she said slowly, "who is she?"

Link's eyes snapped up to her face. "What?"

Arms still crossed, she turned to face him. Her face held a gentle and almost sad expression. "There is a girl, somewhere, who holds your heart. I can see it in your eyes."

Link looked at the ground. How could she possibly tell that? Had he ever given that impression? He did not think so, and now he was unsure of what to say. "Yes, I guess you're right," he said slowly. "And actually, there are two."

Jennan looked away quickly and closed her eyes. She felt like a fool for having any expectation or thoughts that she and Link might have a future, even if it was a limited one. What a disappointment it was to her. There was not only one girl that Link had interest in, but two. She could not find words for the sinking feeling she felt, but saw no reason to say anything else about it. She had no claim to him.

"I see," she finally said, and sighed. She had not meant it to be audible, but she then could tell he heard it and wanted to pinch herself.

Surprisingly, Link continued. "One of them is the princess of my country, Zelda." He looked depressed as he said this, but then recovered. "And the other," he said, "is you."

Jennan's eyes opened quickly and she tilted her face up to look at him. Had she heard him right? "Me?" Her voice came out high, and she swallowed hard.

"Jennan, you don't know what I'm dealing with right now emotionally," he said. And he was surprised it had come out so quickly and matter-of-factly. He usually did not find words that easy to say, especially personal words, but he was nervous. "The princess is the reason I came out here. She had to leave two years ago because my country was under attack, and she went into exile and wouldn't let me come with her. I didn't know when she'd come back, if she ever would, so I set out to find her." He stopped only to take a breath, then quickly continued. "It's been two years, and your father's men just happened to catch me in the forest and drag me here. Now that I've met you, I don't know what to do."

He had not spoken in that many sentences in a long time, and Jennan was now staring at him blankly. Her mouth was tightly closed, and her dark brown eyes were wide. There was a very tense silence for a few minutes, and then she said quietly, "You're serious?"

"Yes, I'm serious." He cocked an eyebrow. "Did you think I'd lie?'

Jennan shook her head quickly, and her hair moved with the wind. "No." She tapped her two index fingers together and stared down at them. "Link, I'm in shock."

"Why?" Link put a hand to the back of his neck and gripped hard. "When I told you I felt the same way about you, I meant it. I'm just bad with words."

"Link... I wasn't expecting you to say that, that's all. But I'm thrilled that you did!" A shy smile broke out on her lovely face, and she blushed. "You wouldn't believe how fond I am of you. "I-" -she laughed-, "I dream about you. It's foolish of me, I know..."

Link grinned, showing straight, white teeth, and then sobered and took her by the shoulders. Even in the moonlight she could see that his blue eyes had such emotion in them, and his big hands tightened and loosened again over and over on her arms. It was not quite a massage, but close. "You don't have to dream about me," he said, with a note of passion in his voice. "I'm right here."

Jennan's hands traveled up his arms and came to a stop on his chest, just below his collarbone, and they kissed slowly. Link's arms wrapped around her, one around her thin waist, the other around her shoulders. She heard a small moan escape her own throat as she closed her eyes, and her fingers dug into his tunic slightly. She wanted to take her time with the kiss, if Henry was spying or not. At the moment she did not care if the whole world was watching, even her father. She felt so safe when this close to him.

Link's hands were pressing into her back, and she felt his hair brush her face lightly. Even if there was another girl in his life, she could not deny her strong feelings for him. But for a split second she wondered what match she would be for a princess, and then pushed the thought away. She did not consider this situation as a competition with another girl, and she certainly did not want to put any more pressure on Link. No way would she try to make him choose between them, especially if he did not even know where this Zelda was. She would always let it be the choice of his own free will, if it even ever came down to that. But right now she just wanted to concentrate on the wonderful present moment.

Link loved the feel of her small, dainty figure, so fragile and yet somehow strong in his arms. He was holding her tightly, but he was careful not to hurt her. He did not know his own strength, and thought it best to pay close mind to it. She was so small and thinly shaped that he could hardly believe that she was the same girl who had put up such a hard fight to the man who had tried nab her in the woods awhile back. Perhaps she was not as weak as he thought she was.

Jennan was the one who finally pulled back her head and ended the kiss, for she needed a breath. Her hands relaxed, and she laid her head on his chest as his arms wrapped tighter around her. She could feel that his breaths were deep and shaky. Was it possible that he liked her as much as she liked him? Or just because he liked the kiss? She hoped for both.

They stayed in that position for a few relaxed minutes, and neither of them wanted to let go. Jennan could have fallen asleep if they had been sitting down.She had never wilfully been this close to anyone, and she was loving every quiet second of it. She moved her lips and chin along the fabric of his tunic, then pressed her right cheek against his chest. She shifted her weight to her right hip, and her left knee fell between Link's.

Ima's voice suddenly cut through the moment. "Jennan."

Jennan and Link quickly pulled apart. "Yes, Ima," Jennan said. She was blushing madly now, and Link took a step back and looked unsure at what to do now. Jennan held up her hand to tell him to stay put, and she turned to Ima, who did not look accusing or even surprised.

"I must tell you all that Rhashidi is running a high fever again," she said matter-of-factly. She stood in the middle of the trail, her silver hair shining in the bright moonlight, and her hands down at her sides. "I have also disovered the reason for his hard squinting and blinking."

"And what's that?" Jennan said, clearing her throat shortly.

Ima titled back her head and shifted her eyes from Link to Jennan. "He is half blind in his left eye."

Link spoke up in alarm. "Blind? How?"

Ima shook her head. "The only thing I can fathom is the fight with the mountain cat. He's had something damaged, obviously. It's not going to get better, but at least it can get no worse."

Link was silent, then said, "Where is he?"

"I don't know, he wouldn't stay in the house for long and walked off somewhere in the woods."

Link massaged the back of his neck and glanced at Jennan. They shared a look for a moment, and then parted on their seperate ways.

-O-

The Altean castle went into hysterics. Prince Marth seemed to be the only one that was keeping his head, and he shouted out quick orders to different people, and had Gathan to get the soldiers together, and to move hastily. Marth left his chamber and nearly crashed into his step-sister Anya in the hall. He grabbed her arms to keep from knocking her clear over, and she seized his cloak at the neck and hung on tight, her sightless eyes wide with fear.

"Marth, what are we going to do?" she asked, her voice shaky.

"You're going to stay in here and wait. I'm going out into the battle."

"No!" She gave him a shake. "You could be killed."

Gathan came hurrying down the hall and said to Marth, "Highness, the king gave an order for you to stay in the castle and let his soldiers fight the battle, and I also advise that you do."

"I am his soldier, Gathan," Marth said, prying Anya loose and brushing by her. He headed down the hall at long strides, his left hand on his sword, and then called back, "Stay with Anya!"

The first thing that greeted him when he got outside the castle was the thick smell of smoke and the shouts of men. The second was a heavy-built soldier with the name of Kiriath who was holding the reins of Marth's huge black stallion, and he gave a quick bow as the prince swung up into the saddle and took over control.

"Who's attacked us?" Marth asked shortly.

"Doluna, of course, sir," the soldier said, and mounted his own horse. "They're at the south gate, but have not made their way in yet."

"They won't." Marth yanked his horse to the right and headed off at a trot, flanked by a few shield-bearers and a dozen other soldiers who were also on horseback. Marth felt no emotion of fear because of the danger he was about to face; only a hard anticipation from the adrenaline. He did not think about the actual fight, for he figured he would concentrate on that only in the battle. He was incredibly skilled with the sword, and just as quick with it. He had been in hand-to-hand and sword battles before, but never in an all out war like this.

Marth drew his sword from its sheath. "If we die, we die defending Altea!" he yelled. The soldiers answered his strong voice in a loud cry, but no words could be made out. Marth lifted his sword high, and then the group rushed towards the south gate.

Marth gripped the reins and leaned forward in the saddle to urge his horse on, his cloak blowing behind him, and then caught sight of what was going on ahead. He could see his soldiers doing their best to fend off the enemy, who were trying their hardest to enter through the gate, and fortunately failing. The Altean army was putting up a hard defense and actually beginning to get the upper hand, slowly pushing the enemy back from the gate. Suddenly, the massive Doluna army drew back a few hundred yards. They did not actually turned around and flee, but moreso backed up until they were away from the gate and back near the burning woods. Were they retreating? Probably not so soon in the battle, and Marth clutched his sword hard in his right hand while his left controlled the massive horse under him. His shieldbearers were close beside him, and as he rushed out into the heat of the battle, he realized that being in such a wide open space such as this was to his army's disadvantage. They were somehow outnumbered, and the south gate and a high wall had been a protection for them, but now it was down to a free-for-all.

Marth swallowed hard when he saw some of his men go down, but that had to be ignored in battle. He was moving at such a quick pace that he came unexpectedly upon a cluster of Doluna soldiers, on foot and on horses, and put his sword to work. One neat, powerful swing took down three of them at the tip of the sword. It was made of the best Damascus steel, fit only for a prince, and was of the sharpest cut. The Falchion sword, his father had called it when he had passed it on to his son, and it was now Marth's greatest possession.

It made him queasy to see the blood along the blade now, but he knew he could not be weak. Death was the main part of war, and if he wanted to protect his kingdom, he must kill or be killed, and he had no intention of dying. He did not really look at the faces or expression of his enemies; he just saw a rush of men and horses, and classified them as two things, either friend or foe. It was not hard to tell apart which army was which, for the king's armies were all uniformed. Doluna was not a kingdom, just a country, and the soldiers were dressed nothing alike and it was easy to tell who was who.

Marth ignored the battles cries, the screams of death, the smell of blood and smoke in the air, and only concentrated on swinging his sword and hitting the mark hard. He numbly noticed the gory death of one of his soldiers close by, and then he swept his mind of all thoughts. There were no invented words for the horror he was seeing around him.

A close movement to the right caught his eye; everything was quick and fast-paced, but for some reason his attention focused on that one movement. He yanked his horse into a ninety-degree turn and blocked an oncoming attack with his sword. The sound of grinding metal filled his ears as he braced himself against the strength of the man on the horse beside him. The man looked evilly intent on the matter at hand, and the two swords seemed to be frozen in place, until Marth could feel that the other man was stronger and that he could not hold this position for long. Suddenly, the Falchion sword fell back, and the man's sword was coming down fast. Luckily, Marth could think as quickly as he could move, and he planted his weight in the left stirrup, rose up out of the saddle, and kicked the man square the shoulder, knocking him off his horse. He fell and disappeared into the confusion, and Marth quickly settled back into the saddle, squeezing his knees tight against the horse's side to keep his balance.

The speed of the battle was terribly confusing, but Marth somehow kept himself coordinated. One of his swordbearers saved him from an attack from behind, and Marth concentrated on avoiding his own men and taking down the enemy. Riderless horses were everywhere in the confusion, and the smell of the burning woods was stinging Marth's eyes and throat. He coughed hard, and that split second nearly cost him his life, but he quickly ducked down close to his horse's neck and barely avoided a sword to the back of the head. Death was literally at every step, but this fight must be fought. Altea had fought wars in the past, and never once surrendered. Doluna had actually taken over a few hundred years ago, but Altea had fought back for its independence and won. Marth knew that Doluna was a very power-hungry country and had their sights set on sweeping the entire land. They were aiming to rule Doluna, Altea, Hyrule, and Carrickfergus, but they had fortunately never made it past the fierce army of Altea.

Marth suddenly thought of Anya, and it gave him a new will to fight with everything he had. If something happened to her, he did not know what he would do. He was very fatigued, but somehow remained physically strong. Every slice or stab of his sword was deadly when it hit its target, but the Doluna army seemed to go on endlessly. He took a brief second to observe his soldiers and saw that they were fighting just as hard and ruthlessly as their prince. Somehow in the terrible noise, he heard a shout from his shieldbearers and quickly turned to see what was going on, but found himself struck hard in the chest. It was extremely good fortune that the blow had landed on the surface of his armor, but the force of it threw him clear out of the saddle. He twisted himself in the air, refusing to land the wrong way, and came crashing down on his hands and knees, landing hard on a patch of sharp rocks in the ground and feeling something crack. He somersaulted once and then slid for a few yards before coming to a painful stop at the bottom of a small hill. The battle continued to rage around him, and the ground vibrated with the force of it. He tried to push himself up, but when his weight hit his left knee, he unwillingly sank back down. The pain was nearly unbearable, and he ground his teeth and tried to see through the blood on his knee, but there was too much of it to tell what exactly had happened. He had to get up, and he just now noticed that he could not find his sword. He was trying his hardest to keep his head, and then suddenly he felt someone take his arm and shoulder, and he was lifted up. He whirled to put up a fight, but saw that it was Kiriath who was holding him.

"Take my horse, sir," the man quickly said, and he boosted his prince up into the saddle of his own horse. There was no time to say anything else, and Marth was about to continue on when he looked down and saw Kiriath holding up the Falchion sword he had picked up from the ground. Marth nodded at him and grabbed the blood-stained sword, and was off once again. He looked back just long enough to see the horror of Kiriath being run through the back with the short sword of a Doluna soldier. The blood that spilled had to be seen to be believed, and Marth suddenly felt a flame of wrath. He pulled the horse to a stop, then quickly turned around and headed back to his fallen soldier. It was obviously too late for Kiriath, and as the Dolunan man pulled his weapon from the dead man's body, Marth nudged the horse into a canter and steadied the point of his sword at the enemy. He ignored the rest of the battle that was raging all around him, and tightened the muscles in his arm as he came bearing down on the man who had killed Kiriath. The man looked up hastily, but was too late to move. Marth's horse did not even break stride as the man hit the ground dead. The Falchion was so sharp that it had cut right through the man without even pausing at all. Marth slowed his horse and turned it back around towards the heart of the battle. His sword arm was covered with blood from his fingertips to elbow, and it quickly soaked through his fingerless gloves, which had been blue until now. The thick feeling of the blood repulsed him, but it also made him feel victorious for avenging Kiriath's death.

There was no time for emotion right now, and hardly even for pain, but Marth was feeling his shattered knee badly. It hurt to move, it hurt to hold still, and it hurt even just to look at it, so he might as continue fighting. He would not stop unless he was too wounded or dead.

Someone either threw or dropped a burning torch, and Marth nearly had to jump from his horse's back to avoid it. It singed the horse's brown mane and then hit the ground and lit the grass aflame. Marth righted himself in the saddle as the horse side-stepped to the left to avoid the burning ground. The prince held tight to his sword, unwilling to lose it again, for this time Kiriath was not there to hand it back. A burning limb from a tree fell of and sent up a shower of sparks. A horse screamed in pain from somewhere on the battlefield, and Marth felt the golden tiara slipping over his bangs, and took a quick moment to push it back on. Something suddenly came whizzing from the sky, and he looked up just in time to see a barrage of fiery arrows heading his way. In the split second he had to think, his horse shied and he was thrown hard. He crashed to the ground, right on his already shattered knee, and he quickly covered his head with his hands, eyes shut tight and teeth clenched, as the arrows descended. He heard quite a few of them hit something hard behind him, but he felt no pain. He opened his eyes and turned around, and saw one of his own soldiers crouched behind him with a shield in his hand that was poised to protect the both of them. At least half-a-dozen of the fiery arrows were stuck into surface of the shield, and the man pulled them out and threw them away.

"You're wounded, sir," he said, as if was not an obvious fact. Marth was very grateful for what the man had just done, but he was eager to get back into the fight. His knee was hurting so badly that he could almost hardly feel it now, and he used the soldier as leverage to pull himself up. The man suddenly reached out and luckily caught the reins of Marth's black stallion, who had been trained for war and was not overly excited, and the prince was once again helped into the saddle. His left leg was basically useless at this point, but everything else seemed to be working properly, and that was enough for him. He felt a warm liquid running down the right side of his face and touched it with his left hand. No surprise that it was blood. He held his sword straight down at his side and took the reins in his free hand, kicking the horse into a canter and heading back into the battle. It seemed to have thinned out somewhat, but the people that were still fighting were just as vicious as they had been before. The dead and wounded were everywhere, and though Marth found it hard for his horse to avoid them, he tried to best he could.

He heard someone yell loudly, and suddenly the army of Doluna was retreating. They took what horses they had left and took off at a blatant run through the woods. Most of Marth's men went in pursuit to ensure that the enemy did not change their minds, and then the heat of the battle was over. There were the moans of the dying, and the fire in the woods still raged and was growing. Marth slid his bloody sword back into its sheath and leaned over his horse's neck, his hands gripping the saddle hard. He was suddenly feeling so lightheaded, and he hoped that he had not put away his weapon to soon, but there was no sign that the enemy was coming back.

He was suddelnly surrounded by his soldiers, and they helped him slide from the saddle and laid him on his back on the blood-stained grass. He felt someone rip his pants back from his knee and then felt pressure, and he let out a violent moan, but the pressure did not stop. Someone else laid their palm tight against the right side of his head, just above his ear, and he felt pain there too. He was bruised and scratched everywhere, and his hands were cut up from his fall on the jagged rocks, but that was the least of his pains. His knee seemed to be the main source of that, and he was suddenly overwhelmed by the entire situation and passed out.

When he woke up, he was on his bed in the castle, and felt as if he were being smothered. He rocked his head back and forth and let out a growl of discomfort. He opened his eyes and discovered that Anya was clutching her arms around his neck, and someone pulled her back. Her face was covered with tears, and then someone else came into view; his nurse. The woman looked at him closely, then gave him some water in a fancy glass, which he guzzled and then had a coughing fit. His throat was burning from the horrible smell of mixed blood and smoke, and it seemed as if it would never go away. He coughed until he was completely out of breath, then took another one and let out a yell when his nurse touched his knee. He could not move his left leg at all, and she was bandaging the knee through the blood.

"How are you feeling, highness?" she said.

Marth coughed again and then said hoarsely, "What do you think?"

She was too low in rank to reply to that disrespectful answer, but she did say, "I see that you seem to be yourself. Here, have some more water."

He gladly did, and then cringed as he felt her touch his knee again. A few soldiers and Gathan lined the walls of the room, looking very concerned. Marth did not think he had been in the castle long, for he was still in the same bloody clothes he had fought in. He focused enough to look at Anya, who was sitting beside the bed and wringing out her hands. He was feeling very woozy, and he laid back his head again and tried to focus on the ceiling, but it was not working. His semi-conscious mind drifted to the thoughts of the battle, and he started mumbling things that no one seemed to understand.

"You got Kiriath," he mumbled, "didn't you?"

The nurse and Gathan shared a look, then the nurse said, "He's delirious. Give me some more medication."

Marth put a bloody hand up to his head and felt a bandage wrapped around and under his bangs. Someone had taken off his tiara and sat it on the nighttable. He heard a sharp sob from Anya, but he was too tired to open his eyes again. He wanted to get these awful thoughts of the death and horror he had seen out of his mind, but he could not shake them, no matter how hard he tried. They would stick with him forever now, and little did he know that the pain in his knee would as well. He was not thinking of the future; in fact, he was not thinking about much at all. He felt another sharp wave of pain, gritted his teeth, and then passed out again.

-O-

I was on the edge of my seat when I typed the battle scene- I hope you were on the edge of yours when you read it, haha. You know what to do now. For some reason the reviews on the last chapter didn't come to my email inbox and only appeared on the website... weird... anyway, review please