Hooray for the good reviews I got on that seriously long chapter 12. They were great, though a couple of them confused me. Haha. It took me forever (again) on this chapter because I was very busy this last week with barely any time to write. Anyway, here we go...

-O-

The boy hurried off on his way towards the torchlit town, and Link sat heavily in Epona's saddle, stunned. There was no doubt that he had heard the boy correctly, but why trust a child? Princess Zelda had not been seen for over two years, so why would she suddenly appear now? But Link pushes those thoughts from his mind. If Zelda really was in this town ahead and he merely passed by, it would be one of the most foolish decisions of his life. He stared ahead, frozen, and Artos reined in his horse beside him.

"What did that lad say?"

Link blinked slowly. "He said-" He cut off the sentence with another one, "I need to stop at this town ahead."

Artos turned his head in that direction, then back to Link. "It's off course of the trail back to Carrickfergus. Why is it that you want to go there?"

"I just do. Wait for me." Link nudged Epona into a canter, and Artos made a surprised sound.

"Wait for you? Here?" Artos glanced at the cold, deserted darkness around him. "Link!"

But Link was already off on his way and had no intention of turning back now. He gripped the leather reins tightly in his fingers and leaned forward over Epona's neck, his knees pressed hard against her sides with anticipation. He was having very mixed and confusion feelings, for in the back of his mind still drifted the situation about Jennan, but his immediate thoughts were on Zelda. In the two and a half years that he had been away from her, his strong love and longing for her had begun to subside- especially in the last six months that he had known Jennan. It was not so simple of a thing to say that Jennan had replaced Zelda; no, they both held different spaces in his heart, though Zelda's had somewhat faded over time. As he rode down a slanted and rocky hill in the darkness, the town getting slowly closer, he wondered, if the princess really was here, how different things would be since they had last seen one another. The memory of her had permanently burned into his mind of when she had left Hyrule reluctantly, and her sad expression as they had held one another's hands for as long as possible before she had broken away. That was how he had remembered her for nearly three years.\par Hopefully that could all be forgotten and overwritten with a new memory, if he even really saw her- if that kid could be trusted. But it would not hurt to try, and Epona galloped down the hill with her rigid and anxious rider clinging to her back.

-O-

Prince Marth shocked the kingdom when on a cold and blustery day he was seen outside the castle in the garden. He sat alone on a concrete bench beside the elegant fountain, the water frozen, with his left leg extended to straighten out the pain in his knee. A couple of female servants carrying empty platters stared at him blatantly, though they wisely kept their distance. He glanced at them, but that was about as far as his attention to them went.

He put his face in his hands and massaged his fingers into his hair, just below the golden tiara. He had a terrible headache, another thing from the war that still haunted him, the result of getting his head near split open in the heat of the battle. His nurse had many times given him liquid remedies, and which none had ever worked. The near constant pain that he was usually in made him more irritable than he already was, which was a terrible thing for the people around him. He had been hard to get along with before, but now he had become almost unbearable to be near. Anya and Gathan were the only ones that were brave enough to try.

The girls kept their eyes on him until they were out of sight. The garden was brown and dead at this time of year, covered with snow and killed by the cold, so not lush and beautiful as it usually was. Marth did not notice anyway; he had failed to notice many details of life these days, save for what was going on in his troubled mind and body. The pain was so bad, especially at night, that sleep was a lot of the times way out of the question. And he had a secret that only he knew; such was the intensity of the pain in his knee or his head, he cried sometimes at night when he was alone. In public, though Anya and Gathan were the only public to him now, he was tough, haughty, and proud, and no one had ever seen him cry. Most of the time he would just grit his teeth and bear the pain, but sometimes it was impossible for a mortal being.

He had been trying to straighten his walk as best he could, to get rid of the cursed limp, and though it brought on much pain, he was slowly succeeding. He did not think it was seemly for a prince to walk and stand that way; he was supposed to appear strong and sure of himself.

His deep thoughts were interrupted when he heard a strange sound from above, and he quickly looked up, mouth slightly open, and saw a strange flash of fire streak across the grey sky. A shrill scream just over the hill followed, and Marth stood up, on edge, his cloak still hanging down over the back of the cement bench. He kept his blue eyes on the sky, his dark bangs swaying in his eyes with the light, cold breeze. He looked down at the horizon, which had started to glow a reddish orange color. Marth had seen that kind of glow many times, and he knew that something over the hill was on fire.

He kept his steps steady as he walked towards the glow, his cloak dragging over the top of the bench, and then after catching a wave of air, falling at its normal place at the back of him. He left the garden, knowing that it was foolish to just walk off to go investigate something like this with no guards with him, but he did not care. The pain in his head was making it hard to think, anyway. The closer he got to the hill, the more intense the glow became. After a few more steps he could see the tip of flames below. He reached the top of the hill and looked down on the stone and brick houses of the village below. A slew of houses were on fire, flames licking off the roofs and out the windows. People streamed from the houses, and Marth saw a few men who were obviously not a part of his kingdom, and he stiffened.

A woman spotted him and came running up the hill. When she reached him, she threw herself down to her knees in front of him, bowing her head to the grass. "Oh, Prince Marth," she exclaimed. "Please help us! Please..." She was practically hooked around his ankles, and his eyes shifted from her to the carnage that was forming below as he thought on what he would do. The woman lifted her head from the ground to look at his face, tears streaming from her eyes. "My husband... they killed my man..."

Marth was still trying to figure out who 'they' were, but he looked back down at the woman and extended his hand to her. "Get up," he said, and she took his hand and rose to her feet. She clung to his arm, bent at the knees, and sobbed hard. Marth felt some sort of trace of compassion, but mostly he wanted her to get off him.

"Someone must do something now," the woman sobbed.

"I'll take care of it," Marth said boldly, pushing her back gently, his eyes still cast downward to the confusion below. Most of the woman's weight was on his arm, and her hands gripped tightly above his elbow, the side of her face pressed against his wrist. He gave her a harsh look, and she quickly let go and sank to the ground, bowing low with her face in her hands. He ignored her groveling and moved around her, his steps down the hill heavy and even, the harsh limp for once only slightly noticable.

He was not thinking clearly--he had not been doing that for months now--but something in the back of his mind told him that he was being overly brash. He ignored it and continued on, his fingers curved around the hilt of his sword that for now remained in the sheath. Someone was in his kingdom and attacking his subjects, and that was all he knew. His soldier's instinct urged him to fight, and the sudden adrenaline rushed. He picked up his pace, and his senses were assaulted by fire and smoke when he reached the high-class village. People who were noticing their neighbors' houses aflame deserted their own dwellings and ran out into the street to see what was happening. An elderly man nearly ran smack into Marth, then focused and when realized that it was the prince, promptly fell down on his knees.

"Majesty!" the man cried out in apology and surprise.

"Who's attacked us?" Marth barked. When the man merely sat their shaking, "Well? Answer me!"

"Ah, ah- Akanea, highness. It's Akanea!" The old man rocked back and forth on his knees. "They are killing people even in the streets. Oh, ye gods..."

Marth side-stepped around the old man and turned down a street corner at a slow jog. Now that there was a straight space of road in front of him, the sight nearly took his breath away. He had the urge to turn away, but he stood frozen for quite a few seconds before he blinked and swallowed hard. The old man had been right. Bodies littered the paved street, still and bloody; bodies of the elderly, women, and children as well as men. It had been bad enough in the heat of and aftermath of the war with Doluna, but the men that had died were soldiers doing their jobs to defend Altea. These people were all innocents, probably had been dead before even knowing what had hit them.

Something rose in Marth's throat that felt like a mix of fury, horror, and sadness. He suddenly felt a terrible wave of nausea, but it was quickly forgotten when a close movement caught his eye. He looked up and was replused to see a mountain of a man with blond hair in the street wearing a black hooded cloak, and a screaming and fighting young woman on his shoulder. The man's gaze flicked over to the angry prince and rested there for a moment. The two of them exchanged challenging glares, and Marth demonstrated his meaning by drawing the Falchion from its sheath with a dramatic swish. He then noticed that the man had a huge war axe in his hand, and noticed at the same exact time that it was not just any young woman on the man's shoulder, it was Anya!

Marth spent a split second of his time wondering why his sister had been down in the village, then threw himself into battle mode. It did not matter if the man spoke English or not; Marth could talk with his sword. The man accepted the challenge, and unfortunately dumped Anya clear off his shoulder. It was a long way down, and Anya cried out when she hit the ground. Marth made a move to go to her, but the man jumped in front of him and brought down the heavy axe. Marth twisted out of the way and then struggled to avoid stepping on his sister. She sat there tense, her eyes wide because of the fight that was going on literally right on her. She did not even know that it was Marth who was fighting for her, and there was no time to tell.

Marth danced out of the way of another hard swipe of the axe, then jumped away from Anya to take the fight from her. Luckily the man followed. Marth was tall and well-built, but the size of this man and his axe was ridiculous. Marth knew that he would have to use his wits and speed to win this fight, and even that was easier said than done.

Having no other possible move, Marth threw up his sword to block the oncoming axe. The two weapons smashed together, steel grinding against steel, and Marth struggled to hold his own, but the man was too strong. Marth pulled back as quick as a flash, and the axe sliced through open air. He threw out a series of quick slashes with his sword that only bashed off the side of the man's blocking axe. Marth was being fueled by a terrible anger that he had never quite felt before; it was based off the fact that innocent subjects had been murdered needlessly, his kingdom was under attack again, and his sister had become a victim. Though he did wonder in the back of his mind why reinforcements had not been sent to back him up, he was content with taking this on by himself, at least for now. During the quick-paced and intense battle with the blond-haired giant, he was aware of the movement of people around him, probably for the most part Akaneans. The Altean inhabitants of the village were either dead or had fled away.

One of Marth's quick and deadly swipes of the sword managed to hit its mark--up until now the man had been strangely fast--and sliced open the huge bicep of his opponent. As blood spilled, the man grimaced but otherwise showed no signs of pain. He continued intently on trying to take down the young man that had challenged him; he had no idea that it was the prince of the country that he was in battle with.

Marth would have been dead at the beginning of the fight had it not been for his amazing speed. Even with the old pain in his knee, he was lightning-fast as always. He had trained that way for as long as he had been old enough to handle a sword, and the way his body was built allowed him to be strong and yet fast at once. He had always been able to fight a silent one-on-one, with only the slightest of battle cries. It was for that reason that Anya did not recognize him now. All she heard was someone taking on the giant who had tried to carry her off.

There were no moves open for the Falchion, but Marth saw a chance for a direct physical attack. He balanced out his weight and mustered up his strength, then planted a violent kick in the man's stomach. The force of it would have floored any normal person, but this man's size was not normal; his stomach was protected by an armor of muscle, and the kick, though powerful, did little in Marth's favor. In fact, it was an open chance for the man to make a counter attack, and he did. His huge hand flashed up and grabbed Marth's vulnerable ankle, causing the latter to lose all balance. As Marth was yanked forward, the man let go of his ankle and brought his closed hand back. The hard momentum carried Marth's face directly into the fist, and Marth had never seen so many stars. He could feel the blood running over his mouth and down his chin, but other than that was numb. He opened his eyes, hand still gripping his sword, and took a moment to dazedly look at the man's face under the black hood. The man's left eye held an old scar, long healed over, a sign of a pervious battle some time ago.

Marth felt the man's huge hand grip over his chestplate, and he was violently hurled to the ground. His breath was knocked out of him on impact, and he slid for a few yards across the snowy street before thankfully coming to a stop. He did not think, only did what was natural, and pushed himself up to his feet, refusing to stay down for longer than was physically necessary. He flicked his long cape back and then raised his sword in both hands, a sign that the man would have to fight harder than that to keep him down. Marth rushed forward at a run, bringing the sword back to the side over his shoulder, and levelled his aim at his huge opponent. The man came forward to meet him, just as Marth had expected and planned, and then the younger man quite literally ran up the other's knee, kicked his huge and blond-bearded face with all his might, and went somersaulting over the hulking man's head. It happened so quickly that Marth held his breath the whole time without discomfort. At the end of his somersault, and as the man under him was still falling foward to the ground with hands on face, Marth slashed with his sword four times before either of them hit the ground, but once they did, the man lay on his face in the blood-stained snow. All of Marth's slashes had hit the man's back, and the man's thick shirts were sliced, ripped, and covered with blood.

And Marth was not done yet. He fell to his knees over the man and somehow managed to turn him over onto his bleeding back. Marth began punching with his free hand as hard as he could possible manage, his ruthless blows all directed at the man's face, and hitting hard. He was not used to delivering direct physical blows like this, but he knew how to punch and knew how to make it hurt. He was known for having big hands, and thus could cause a lot of damage. Also, he felt no remorse; not any in the slightest.

Somehow the man was still conscious, and he reached up and grabbed Marth's wrist. Marth struggled to pull away, flexing and twisting his hand, but the man was by far too strong for a wrestling match. Marth had a knee on each side of the huge man, and he was suddenly very finished with this battle. With his free right hand, he lifted his sword high, aimed the deadly point at the man's chest, and drove it home with all of his strength.

Marth twisted the sword ninety-degrees as blood spilled everywhere. The man's black hood fell back and fully revealed his face, which was plastered into the expression of a death mask. Marth slowly drew his sword out of the man's chest, the sharp blade covered in blood. The man's eyes closed hard, then opened again, and his chest fell with a final breath.

Marth stood up, panting hard with his mouth closed tightly, and looked down at the body of his fallen opponent after sheathing his sword. Then he heard a small whimper from Anya, and he stepped away from the man and went to her, bending down, and placed his hand on her shoulder. Unexpectedly, she wailed and directed an attack at his face. He had been oblivious to the fact that she had not known that it was him the whole time, and was caught off guard at the suddeness of her violent actions. He turned his face away from her clawing hands, but not before she left a gash down the length of his jaw.

"Anya!" he cried out, grabbing onto her arms and pushing her back to protect himself. "Anya, it's me! Stop!"

She somehow heard him through her screaming and froze in mid-move, as if she was making sure she had heard right. "Marth," she breathed shakily, then threw her arms around him and burst into tears. He held her tightly, still quite shaken from the whole situation himself, and they knelt in the snow together. But unknown to either of them, it was not the first time that huge blond man had tried to carry off a young woman; he had once been in Carrickfergus and faced Link's wrath after trying to carry off Jennan months ago in the dark woods.

But Marth had ended it all now, finished what Link had once not done.

-O-

Jennan lived as an emotional wreck over those few days that Link was gone, worried and fretting the entire time, and not allowing herself to be consoled, even by her sister. Rhashidi stuck close to Jennan and allowed no one near her, save for Memnet and Ima, not even Matayo or Artos. He always had taken Link's commands and suggestions seriously, and this especially was no exception. He had a sixth sense that knew how much Link cared for Jennan, and if Link was willing to give everything for her, so was Rhashidi.

Dorobis was terribly angry that Rhashidi stayed so close to Jennan, but the viciousness of the wolf-boy left nothing to be done about it. No one was foolish enough to trifle with him, and even Dorobis knew that it would remain this way until Link returned from Barrack. Dorobis would blatantly cringe at the mere sound of Link's name when it was spoken, furious that things were near out of his control, but he was planning on giving Link to his sister for a slave. Jennan knew this, and it was the main reason that she was so upset.

The other reasons were fairly obvious. Not only was Dorobis getting rid of Link, but he was going to try and marry Jennan off to Henry; a thing that Jennan was willing to fight tooth and nail to escape. Her emotions were wild anyway because of the child growing within her, though she was so early on in the pregnancy that one could not even tell she was with child when just looking at her. Ima said that it was very unhealthy for Jennan to be as nervous as she was- Jennan was afraid that Link had gone to Barrack and would not be able to come back, and she had silently sworn to herself that if that had happened, she would somehow make her way to Barrack as well and find him.

Dorobis stayed in his dwelling and sulked by himself over that time. Since Link and Artos were gone, there was a lot of work that was not being done and was therefore pushed onto Matayo, who did the best he could, but it was near impossible for him to complete his own daily work as well as Artos' and Link's. There just was not enough light during the day to finish it all, and Dorobis, though his broken ribs were long healed over, offered no assistance.

On the fourth day that Link and Artos were gone, Jennan had near worn herself out from nervous worry, and collapsed into a chair at the table in the kitchen, Rhashidi on the floor beside her. She was having an annoying pain in her stomach that only added to her discomfort, and she was hungry but could not stand even the thought of eating. Ima brought her a glass of water and gently sat it down on the table in front of her.

"If you do not pull yourself together, there will be nothing left of you when Link does come back," Ima said. Then sternly, "And he is coming back, Jennan."

Jennan just stared at the water in the glass. To her, it looked as if it was swirling, though it was not. Memnet sat in the wooden chair by the front door and glanced up from her needlework. "She won't believe it until he walks through the front door," she said to Ima, her voice somewhat dry.

"Even so, you still must eat something, or at least drink," Ima said. Then only the sound of the crackling fire filled the room, followed by the clicking of Memnet's needles. Rhashidi shifted on the floor and let out a long breath through his nose.

"Something isn't right," he said quietly, his ears cocked back with uncertainty. Jennan looked at him with alarm.

"Ah, don't say that," Memnet scolded. "You'll worry Jennan more than she already is."

Rhashidi shut his mouth, but it did not change the strange feeling he had in his chest.

-O-

Epona's sides heaved with her panting as she thundered to the entrance of the town, and Link pulled back on her reins to slow her to a canter, then to a trot. She had a lather of sweat on her, but for some reason seemed too excited to want to rest. Link felt a little bad for leaving Artos alone back on the dark trail, but Link had things to do that would be better done alone.

Burning torches lit the street all the way down. The cobblestone street was so long, flanked by houses and shops on both sides, that it curved up ahead and trailed on out of sight. People were everywhere, merely standing or walking down the middle of the road, but there was an air of excitement about them that made Link think that perhaps the princess of Hyrule really was here, for whatever reason. He felt a sharp twinge of anticipation, and Epona evidently felt it too, for she kept pulling at the bit in an effort to go faster, something she had not done since she was little more than a foal.

Link took the time to examine the expressions of the people as he rode on. Most looked excited and in wonder, but there were a few here and there that did not seem to be very happy with this arrangement. One man held the Altean flag in his hand and was making the gesture to ward off evil. Link had the urge to make it back to him but was too preoccupied with moving Epona through the crowd and avoiding pedestrians.

Link suddenly saw soldiers up ahead, and his breath sucked in- they were Hylian soldiers. That was probably why none of the people in the crowd seemed to be wondering who he was or where he came from; they just thought he was another man with the princess. He suddenly had an idea. If everyone thought that, then that meant he could probably get a lot closer. He made an attempt to try, but there were too many careless people in the street and Epona was getting nervous. If he stayed here at the back of the procession he might never catch up, so he reined Epona off to the left and cut off from the street between two dwellings, coming out in the dark shadows of the woods. He nudged Epona into a canter, and they moved swiftly through the darkness. Link kept his eyes to the right, focusing through the small spaces between buildings to see what was going on in the street, and where exactly he was. There were some stretches of close buildings that were so close together that Link could see nothing but the back of the houses for quite a few strides before going by another open space again. Strips of light from inside the street spilled out into the darkness and lit Epona's way. She seemed glad to be moving at a quicker pace now.

Through another quick passing crack between two houses, Link spotted a crowd of armed soldiers, straight and rigid in their marching walk. He set his jaw and leaned forward in the saddle, Epona's flaxen mane blowing up into his face and over his shoulders. There was too much noise on the street for the hoofbeats to be heard clearly, and he hoped that the soldiers would not notice him yet, for he could be mistaken for someone with ill intentions.

The sight through the next wide crack between houses that passed by made Link suck in his breath. Through the crowd of armed guards, he saw for a split second the flowing white and pink skirts and long blonde hair that made his heart skip a beat. He let Epona go for a few long strides, then pulled her to a halt and quickly dismounted, twisting her reins over a low tree branch. The space between the two shops beside him was wide, and he stayed in the shadow but slowly looked around the corner to the street. Just as planned, he was ahead of the slow-moving procession, and he looked back and could see just what he had been looking for. In a circle of well-placed guards walked an elegant, high-stepping white horse, and its calm and light rider was none other than Princess Zelda.

Link could not see her very well; there were too many people in the way. But he could tell how much she had grown up in the past three years, even from where he was standing. The golden Hylian crown she wore sparkled in the torchlight, and her head was held high as she examined and sometimes waved to the people around her. The top part of her dress was a beautiful pink, and she had shining white gloves that extended almost up to her shoulders. Link found it hard to breathe. She had grown up as much as he had in the long time that had passed.

His heart was thundering in his chest; he was not exactly sure why. The return of an old flame, or old love, in this case, was always a difficult thing, but he had not had this feeling about anyone since he had very first personally met Zelda, back when he was not even fourteen. He had been shy and somewhat clumsy back then, and that was probably the only way that she remembered him. Well, he was a man now, and he hoped it did not come onto her as too much of a surprise.

Zelda was getting closer now. It pained him that she had no idea that he was watching her, that he was not even ten yards away, and for a moment he was not sure what he was going to do. What could he say? The situation was so difficult and confusing that he was beginning to feel sick. But all the while that he was thinking this, the familiar and sweet feeling of his true love for Jennan burned in his chest.

The princess was so close now that Link knew he must do something. His eyes were on her face, now thin and pointed into a woman's, beautiful as always, and he took a step farther into the firelight. She was still oblivious to his presence, until he said, "Zelda."

Her eyes shifted in his direction and then rested squarely on him, startled. Her mouth was a tight line; she had obviously not recognized his voice. She reined her horse to a stop, and the entire crowd around her ceased moving as well. She looked him over, then gazed into his eyes, and a look of realization swept over her face, and she gasped slightly. Unsure, she whispered in awe, "Link?"

Link took another step forward, though still somewhat concealed in the shadows, and unstrapped the arm-guard on his left arm and pulled off his fingerless glove. The rest of the people seemed confused at this movement, and the guards moved forward as if to jump on him, but the princess held up a hand to stop them, her eyes wide in wonder. Link held up his bare left hand and then turned the palm backwards, fingers bent, revealing the mark of the Triforce to her.

The gasp that rushed through her mouth was one of intense excitement. She swung herself off of the majestic white horse and hit the ground. She was taller than the last time they had been together, maybe seven inches over five feet, and she had grown into a woman everywhere. She stood with her hands grasped in her skirts, holding them up from the ground, and they stood looking at each other while Link strapped back on the arm-guard. A smile twisted onto his face, and his heart rushed. He was out of the view of most of the crowd, save for a few soldiers, and Zelda stepped forward to get closer.

She wrung out her hands slowly, smiling. A laugh escaped her closed lips. "Well..." she said hesitantly. Then she sobered and came foward with her arms open to him, and he caught her in a close, very meaningful hug. She pressed her face to the side of his neck and tightened her arms around him. The guards behind her drew back to mind their own business. "It's been so long," Zelda whispered in his ear, her eyes closing.

Link did not reply yet. His hug was forceful but not hard enough to hurt her, as if it were making up for the past three years. "Were you in exile all this time?" he whispered back. He was so stunned with the situation that he did not know what ot say.

She shook her head against his neck slowly. "I went back to Hyrule a year after Father and I first left. My nursemaid Impa told me that you had gone to look for me. So then I went to look for you." He felt her smile. "It's all confusing, isn't it?"

"They tried not to let me go," Link said flatly.

"Foolish. They should have known better than to try to stop you from something." She leaned up suddenly and then kissed him tenderly, her hands on his shoulders and then making their way down his arms. She pulled back and looked him over. "You have the shoulders of a man," she said, a hint of near passion in her voice. Her hand traveled down his chest, and he could tell that she was thinking the same thing.

The moment was very awkward in its own way, yet tender as well. The three years of Zelda only being a memory made Link unsure at what to do now. Stumbling for words as always, he said, "How is your father?"

"He is well." Zelda's hands tightened on Link's biceps. She seemed more intent on concentrating on him instead of anything else. She smiled again. "That twinge of a boy is gone from your voice."

Link suddenly noticed that she had a sword strapped to her side. Well, she had always had an independent air about her, though he had saved her from danger quite more than once. He had now ceased to hear all the noises of the street. "I've grown up," he said, not quite knowing what else to say.

"So I see," she said, a purr in her voice. Used to, they had been about the same height. Now she had to tilt back her head to look in his ocean-blue eyes. Finally, she asked the question that he had been dreading. "Where have you been all of this time?"

He swallowed hard. "For the past two years or so, looking for you."

"And then what?"

How could he tell her that he was a slave to a tyrant man? Sure, he could escape any time that he wanted if he really set his mind to it, but he did not really want to. Telling her he was a slave would go against the very nature of him- what would she think of that? Well, there was no way of getting around it. They had always been honest with each other, and there was no reason to stop now. "I've been at a small city called Carrickfergus."

Zelda nodded slowly, her fingers prodding his biceps. "I have heard of it. Is there a reason you settled there?"

Link breathed in the aroma of her. She smelled like lavender tulips. "It was unwillingly at first."

Zelda's eyebrows raised. "How is that?" Obviously she thought that it was impossible for anyone to force him to do anything.

"A group of men jumped me in the forest." He was nervous for some reason. "There were twelve at first, seven at the end of it. I..."

Zelda's sparkling eyes traveled to the Master Sword in its sheath on his back. "You killed some of them."

"Yes, but-"

Her delicate hand softly touched his mouth and silenced him. "They attacked you; you defended yourself. That is not wrong in my eyes."

He did not want her to find fault with him, so he was relieved at her last sentence. "But there were still too many of them, and... they took my weapons, tied me up and took me to their commander."

Now Zelda looked angry because of the story he was telling. "Fools!" she exclaimed, her fingers tightening on his arms. "How can someone be so foolish?"

"What was worse, they took Epona and I didn't know what happened to her for awhile, but they did nothing to her."

"So you still have Epona then," Zelda said thoughtfully.

"Yes," Link replied, and motioned behind him. "She's right here."

Zelda took his wrist and entered the shadows. Her guards were standing at a distant in the street, but they looked very wary of this and were rigid as if ready to spring any minute. It was strange that they did not know who Link was.

Epona whuffled joyfully at the sight of Zelda and nudged the princess's shoulder when she got close. "Ah, she is the same as always," Zelda exlcaimed, fondling the horse's muzzle. Link draped his free arm around her neck and gave her a pat.

"She's glad to see you again," he said, and then looked down at the snowy ground. "And so am I."

Zelda turned to him, her hand still on Epona. "Link," she said, her voice serious, "at times I thought I would never see you again. I wondered what had become of you, but knew that you were alive and probably safe." She stepped closer. "You are known for taking good care of yourself, and of others. Oh, how many times you rescued me from danger in the past. Though you and I were destined to know one another, we became close friends in the process... and more. I have never forgotten you for that."

Link was suddenly hit by a wave of sadness. Why must she hit such a tender area with her words? It made it all the worse that things should not--and could not-- be the same way again. He had made things hard on himself now, but even if Jennan was not with child, he was not sure exactly what he would do. It was awful to be torn in the middle this way, but deep inside his heart he already knew what he was going to do.

Zelda did not notice his sudden change. She continued on. "Is Rhashidi still with you? He did find his way to you, didn't he?"

Link snapped back to the present. "Yes, he's been with me for almost the whole time," he said. "And he's a loyal friend." He knew that the wolf-boy was willing to protect Jennan with his life at this very moment, and Link spoke his last sentence with complete honesty.

"When I first came across him, he was in a bad situation. No one knows where he came from, but he was in the possession of a ruthless man and woman who were going to use him for their own selfish gain. I commanded that he be brought into my care." She smiled. "When you have an army behind you, it is not hard to do that kind of thing." She turned from Epona. "Oh, I am sorry. I never even let you finish your story. Finish telling me why you are in Carrickfergus."

Link took a deep breath and replied bluntly, "I'm a slave."

She looked at him with alarm. "How can that be, Link?"

He thought his name sounded good coming from her mouth. "I'm a slave in name only. I never even took the brand, though they tried."

"What did you do?"

"They had me chained up, and all I did was threaten. They didn't try again."

"Well, they have at least some sense. After seeing what you did to some of their men, they were probably afraid to come that close to you."

"Yes." Then he blurted, nearly unwillingly, "I could leave any time that I want."

She tilted her head and looked up at him. Softly she said, "Then why don't you? Now that we have finally met up with one another again, you can come back to Hyrule and we could live like we used to, before I was put into exile."

Link did not want to tell her the truth, but he knew it was the right thing to do. Besides, Jennan was certainly nothing to be ashamed about. "I can't."

Zelda stiffened. "Why can't you?"

"Because." Link swallowed, and he felt his throat have a spasm. "My girl in Carrickfergus... she is with child."

Zelda stepped back as if he had just slapped her. By the look on her face, it seemed that she would have expected that more than what he had just said. But she quickly got a hold of herself. "I see."

He let go of Epona and stepped forward after her. "I've made more than one mistake."

Zelda looked at him as if to say, I see no ring on your finger. Almost accusingly she asked in a cold voice, "Do you love this girl?"

He could not match her tone and did not want to. "Yes, for months now."

She turned her back to him abruptly. "You move on more quickly than I do, obviously."

That cut him deep; it was her way of saying that she stilled loved him. He reached over and turned her around to face him again. Tears burned in her eyes, but none spilled. "You're angry with me," he said, distressed.

Zelda shook her head slowly. "No," she choked. "Not with you, not with your girl; with myself."

"Yourself?"

"If I would have just let you come with me like you asked, that day I left Hyrule, it would be different now." She put her face in her hands. "It looks like I am the fool."

He touched her arms. "Zelda, you're not a fool. You did what you thought was best. I'm sorry."

She pulled away gently and dried her eyes with the back of her wrist. "Well, that's the way things are, I suppose. I guess I can get back to Hyrule now; I have a country to rule."

Though she was saying nothing blatantly accusing or rude, he felt terrible. He no doubt still loved Zelda, but the power of his feelings had been diminished over time, and he had found a new love. He was having conflicting feelings at the present moment, for one moment he was wondering if he was making another bad mistake, and then the other he was assuring himself that he was not. It was all so confusing that he just suddenly wanted to go to sleep. "Zelda, I'm sorry," he said.

She held up a hand. "Link, don't apologize for making a life for yourself." She started off back towards the street, then stopped and looked back at him. "Just please take on last piece of advice from me. Get yourself out of a slave's environment, for you are no slave. Take your girl with you if you have to, but please somehow free yourself."

Link said sternly, "You're not saying this as a last good-bye, are you?"

Zelda shook her head and whispered, "No. I expect that we will see each other again, probably more than once. Just take care of yourself. Good-bye for now." She swept herself back out to the bustling street, and Link stood in the darkness alone. A year or more before, he had always imagined meeting up with Zelda again to be a great and joyful thing, but now he found himself feeling quite badly. He stiffly mounted Epona and in his numbness went off to find Artos.

-O-

Marth took Anya back to the castle and cleaned his sword after calling out his soldiers. But as the Akanean invaders saw the massive Altean army that were coming to fight them, they wisely fled. The carnage down in the village was looked over and cleaned up as best as could be done, but there were a lot of mourning and angry people about the streets. Marth was bruised all over from the fight with the blond-haired giant, but thankfully Anya was all right.

Marth commanded that the gates bordering Altea be guarded against the many enemies that surrounded the country, and guards were immediately sent out to their posts.

-O-

The next thing that Jennan knew, she was waking up in her bed. It was nighttime, but the room was lit by a single lantern. She was drowsy and disoriented, and she turned her head to see Matayo sitting in a chair by the bed. She groaned a little and felt pain all over. Matayo stood up and put a hand on her head, looking down at her with worry. She looked back, confused. Her brother's hand was cold on her burning head and she tried to shake it away, but he would not move it.

"Matayo," she mumbled, annoyed. She felt uncomfortable and thirsty. "Why am I here?"

He bent down closer to her and looked at her strangely. "You don't remember?" he whispered.

"No," she said innocently. "The last thing I knew, I was in the kitchen with everyone else."

Matayo mumbled something to himself in awe. "Jennan, that was two days ago."

"Two days?" Jennan was alarmed and tried to sit up, but her brother stopped her with a hand on her shoulder.

"Lie back down," he said, and headed towards the door. "I'll be back."

Jennan lay down and tried to clear her head. She was so confused that it made her head hurt, and not to mention everything else. It was silent in the dark room for a few minutes, and then Ima came inside, her old face grim.

"Ima," Jennan said, reaching out to her. She knew Ima would tell her what had happened.

The woman came over and put a hand on Jennan's arm. "How are you feeling?"

"Confused!" Jennan cried. "Someone tell me what happened!"

Ima closed her eyes, then opened them again sadly. "You don't remember the past two days because you have been in here, asleep for most of the time. My dear, I'm just going to tell you like it is."

"Please do."

Ima closed her eyes again and put her stiff fingers on Jennan's hand. "Jennan, you miscarried your baby two nights ago."

Jennan sucked in a breath. "What?"

"I am so sorry, but it is the truth."

The tears that began sliding down Jennan's cheeks were beyond her control. "Nooo," she said, dragging the word out into quite a few syllables. She cried and mumbled to herself, and Ima tried to comfort her but failed.

Luckily, Matayo opened the door of the room and said, "Link's here."

"Thank goodness," Ima said, whirling out the door quickly after Matayo. Jennan sat by herself with her face in her hands, not even bothering to at least try to dry her tears. She was alone for quite a few minutes until she heard the door open again. She moved her hands from her face and was infinitely relieved to see Link sit down beside her. She let out an unwilling sob, and without either of them saying a word, she sat up as Link leaned over to her and slipped his arms around her. His clothes were cold, but they somehow felt warm to Jennan. She laid her head on his chest, and sobs shook her body. Obviously, Ima had told him what had happened. He pulled Jennan closer to him and his hand rested on the back of her head, over the hair that was loose and spilled over her shoulders. They stayed this way for so long that Link began to get numb, but Jennan fell asleep on his chest.

-O-

Well, aren't they having a wonderful time... not. Again, apologies for the long time that this story wasn't up when it was supposed to be. I feel like crap right now because I'm sick, so if some strange things happened at the end of the story that weren't supposed to, I'll just blame it on my cold. Review, please!