It looks like a few of you great reviewers are really getting into this story, or at least I hope you are. Just to let you know, I don't plan to take this for too many more chapters, but there will be a sequel if you want one, so just tell me if you do or not.

-O-

A week passed by with lots of snow and freezing cold, and a blizzard ripped through Altea and left the entire kingdom buried in a thick layer of white. The sides of the castle were plastered with thin snow from the winds of the storm, and the drawbridge was frozen shut and blocked by snow, so no one could enter or leave. The mote below was solid ice but could not even be seen under the thick piles of snow that covered it.

It was a beautiful view to be seen out the window, if one had a window that was not covered in ice, and especially Marth enjoyed the scenery outside, so silent and sparkling, and he spent most of his free time looking out his huge dwelling windows. He had allowed Gathan to join him in the room for now, and the man sat quietly against the wall in a high-backed chair with a few scrolls in his lap, one unrolled in his hands. Marth for the most part ignored him, but he was very aware of his advisor's shaking uncertainty.

The prince stood at the cold window and looked through the stained glass, his hands clasped behind him loosely under his long cloak. The Akaneans had not been spotted since their unexpected attack a week ago, but it was no secret that the people of Altea had been brought low with grief. So many innocent people had been murdered so suddenly and without cause that Marth and his father were still debating on whether or not to declare war on Akanea. Out of anger, Marth had suggested that it be done, but the king was taking more precautions and had not come to a decision yet.

Gathan rustled a scroll and stood up, cleared his throat, and approached Marth cautiously. "Highness, look at this here." He unrolled the scroll as far as possible and tapped the words on the papyrus with a finger. "These are some of Altea's war and battle records of the recent past, and present. Just look at it and tell me what you see."

Marth turned slowly, hands still behind his back, and glanced at the scroll. "I see what I already knew was there, Gathan. Do you think I'm unaware of what's going on around us?"

Gathan swallowed and shook his head. "No, sir. I just found it as my duty to remind you." He averted his eyes and looked down. "As you already know, Altea's most frequent battles are with Doluna, Akanea, and especially Hyrule. Though we have not had such personal trouble with Akanea for nearly fifty years, for some reason they are wishing to flare things up again. Perhaps it is because they see that we are already surrounded by foes, and they think it might be easy to bring Altea to her knees."

Marth raised his left eyebrow. "Interesting that you would notice that."

"Yes, sir, I have assisted your father the king many times in military battles, as well as in advice."

Marth tilted his head to the side, his bangs falling over to the right. "So, if you say Hyrule is our biggest rival, what do you think we should do about it?"

Gathan bowed a little and let the scroll roll up upon itself. "I think, sir, that it would be wise to at least try to arrange peace talks with the king and princess of Hyrule."

"You think that would help anything? They're liable to have their army attack us in the process. I don't trust anything they say, anyhow."

Gathan tossed the scroll back in the chair and rubbed his hands together to warm them. He said, "But there must be something done. Altea is under the threat of three seperate countries, and to say boldly, we are lucky to still be on the map at this point. Yes, sir, your armies are very powerful in strength and skill, especially when led by you, highness, but we are terribly outnumbered. If we can somehow arrange peace with Hyrule, we will have much better chance."

Marth brought his hands up to his face and massaged his forehead. He had yet another splitting headache and was not in the mood to think. He suddenly snapped, "Why are you telling this to me, instead of my father?"

Gathan looked taken-aback and blinked with surprise. "Highness, you are one day to be king. You must be prepared for that. And besides, as prince now, you already have the duty of commanding what goes on with your kingdom."

"I'm not in the mood for this, Gathan," Marth growled.

The advisor suddenly threw his hands into the air with frustration. "You are never in the mood to do what you must!" he exploded. "Ever since the war with Doluna, you have turned into a different person! It has ruined you!"

Silence followed for a very short moment, then Marth clenched a fist and made a move as if to knock the lights out of his advisor, then suddenly stopped and put a knuckle to his chin and tilted his head, as if in thought. Gathan swallowed hard, his Adam's apple quite visible and his eyes fearful. Marth turned away slowly, still thinking, and then finally spoke after the few minutes of terrible silence.

"All right then," he said quietly. The strange calmness in his voice scared Gathan. "Go ahead and arrange for a talk with Hyrule." The prince turned back around and dropped his hand slowly, a half-smile on his face. Gathan swallowed again.

"Yes, sir," he whispered. It would be no use to apologize for the sudden outburst a few moments ago. Though the young man he was talking with was only nineteen and more than fifteen years younger, he was still the prince, and not to mention downright intimidating. Grateful to go, Gathan bowed respectively and left the room.

-O-

To Jennan's despair, Beth returned to Carrickfergus, just as she had said she would. She brought Ness and her other slave with her, and also a little boy with blond hair and enormous green eyes, who seemed to be about the age of three at the most. He was Beth's brother, Peter.

"Why didn't we know we had another cousin?" Matayo asked.

"I was going to tell you on my last visit," Beth replied in her snippy voice, "but there were some people who didn't want to hear it." Her eyes snapped over to Jennan, who glared back.

They were all in the house on one of the especially cold days, and Ima was baking bread in the oven in large amounts. Memnet and Matayo shared a look and rolled their eyes when no one was looking. Peter stood close against Beth's green skirts, staring up at everyone in the room with eyes that were too large for his face. Memnet tried to be friendly with him, but the little boy was timid and would not leave his sister's side.

"So how did you get here through this weather?" Matayo asked Beth, pulling out a chair for himself at the table. Ness helped Ima over at the fire.

"Oh, it wasn't as bad as you would think," Beth replied, flipping her hair. "I just mostly made my slaves blaze the trail for me."

Ness looked up with an annoyed look, as if she knew all too well, then looked back down to the oven. Jennan, who was sitting on the stairs, folded her arms over her knees and looked on stiffly. She had been quite grouchy to everyone for the past week, save for Link, and preferred to be alone more than not. It was the first day that she had really come out of her room for more than a few minutes, and unfortunately that was the day Beth showed up at the front door.

"Interesting," Matayo said, in response to Beth's last comment. It was obvious that he would have personally chosen some other way to get through the snow, but was not going to go as far as to say so. Jennan, on the other hand, was quite happy to go there for her brother.

"Don't you think that's uncalled for?" Jennan said dryly to her cousin.

"Oh, this comes from the girl who doesn't know the meaning of slave," Beth snapped back. She was completely oblivious to what Jennan had endured the week before, for no one had thought it her business.

"I know very well the meaning."

"As it appears so," Beth retorted sarcastically. "I remember how you were about that Hylian slave the last time I was here. How ridiculously you acted about him."

Jennan stood up angrily, and Matayo shot from his chair to prevent a possible oncoming fight. "All right," he scolded, "let's not start this again. There's no creek this time, now is there?" It was meant to be humerous, but no one was laughing, so he continued on. "Jennan, I think maybe you should go upstairs and... rest. I think that would be a good idea."

Jennan carried herself across the kitchen and whipped her shawl from its peg on the wall. "I don't want to go upstairs and I don't want to stay in here and put up with this," she snapped, yanking the shawl over her shoulders. "I'm going outside, and it would be nice if I could do so without being bothered." She went out the door and slammed it behind her.

The wind that had come in blew the fire around, but it soon straightened, and all was silent. Beth finally said rudely, "What's wrong with her?"

Ima looked up at Matayo as if to say, Don't say anything. She knew of the young man's tendancy to blurt things out without thinking, and Ima thought that it was really not for Beth to know, but Matayo did not see why he should not tell his cousin.

"She has had a bad week," he said, and Ima sighed irritably.

"And why's that?" Beth asked.

Matayo met Ima's piercing gaze and quickly changed his mind about telling. He just shrugged. Beth looked around the room. "What aren't you telling me?"

Ima finally pulled her angry eyes from Matayo and looked at Beth. "Miss, it is a long story."

Beth settled herself farther into her chair and put a hand on Peter's thin hair. "I have time, do I not?"

Memnet spoke up. "Matayo needs to learn how to keep his mouth shut." Her brother shrugged under her glare.

Outside, Jennan walked to the stable hurriedly. It was the place that she could almost always find Link, and when she came inside, sure enough he was there at work as always. The horses always had the best care, now that Link was the one taking care of them, and the stable itself was constantly in only the best shape. Artos helped sometimes, but it was mainly Link's job.

Link had told Jennan of his encounter with the Princess Zelda a week ago. At first Jennan had felt a stab of fear that Link was going to go back to Hyrule and leave her, but he assured her that he was not. Jennan nearly cried with the relief of it, but wondered deep down why he had changed his mind. She knew his whole story and heartache that he had had over Zelda three years ago- was that all done with? Had he given up on the princess permanently, even though he had met up with here again? As if Link could read Jennan's thoughts, he assured her that he loved her and that his heart was hers. It had been a very tender moment, and Jennan marvelled at her good fortune.

Now as she entered the stable, Link smiled when he saw her and threw his pitchfork into a pile of hay. Jennan closed the door behind her and came inside, instantly at ease. Link's very presence could always calm her in a second, and it was no different now. She went to him and opened her arms wordlessly, and he pulled her to him gently. He could tell that she was upset about something, and he massaged her back lightly. He leaned over, his mouth practically in her hair, and whispered, "What's wrong?"

His gentle and caring tone made Jennan want to cry with happiness. "It's not really anything," she replied, now wanting to forget about it altogether. But Link was not so easily giving up.

"It's got to be something, Jen." His fingers traced her shoulder blades.

"It's just that Beth's here again," she said. "I know she said that she was coming back, but it seemed to happen so quickly."

He laughed, very softly. "I knew it was something like that. Well, she won't stay long."

"Why not?"

Link tossed his hair away from his eyes and grinned. He had a cute, crooked grin, as if he was not used to smiling. "Because I can make sure of it."

Jennan couldn't help but smile back. "Oh, my hero," she said, only somewhat jokingly. "No, really- you are my hero."

"I know," he replied with a fake haughtiness. He was so natrually not prideful that she thought it was attractive for him to fake it. He tilted her chin up and kissed her, and she relaxed. It felt so good and natural to share a kiss with him.

Link pulled back and looked down at her, his hands on her shoulders, and thought about his considering to propose to her. Just because of what happened with the baby did not make him want to ask her any less, just not as soon as he would have. He knew that she just recently turned sixteen, but there were many girls who were married at even a younger age than that. And when he did ask her, which he was not sure when that would be, he knew that it would bring Hades if he asked Dorobis, so he would do the next best thing- he would ask Matayo for his sister's hand. That was how it was done when a girl did not have a father; the man that wanted to marry her would ask for her of her older brother.

It seemed to be a flawless plan so far, but it was going to be easier said than done. It was not the most simple thing in the world to love a girl whose father hated you as a slave; in fact it was quite difficult. But Link was stubborn and could usually find some way to get what he wanted, if he tried hard enough, and it was not in his plan of things to fail this time. He was just not sure when he was going to try it.

-O-

Gathan had a good way with writing letters and somehow convinced the king and princess of Hyrule to come to Altea for peace talks. Marth had a doubt in his mind that it would bring nothing but more war, but there did not seem to be a reason to not give it a chance. His father warned him to keep his mouth shut and his eyes open, unless told otherwise. Marth was not pleased with this idea at first, but then realized that his father knew him better than he knew himself, for Marth seemed to have a way of messing up things with his words.

The meeting was set for the end of the week, and when the evening arrived, it was obvious that all of Altea was holding its breath. The royals and soldiers were worried that there might be some sort of attack, and the people of the kingdom were anxious to hear the result of the meeting when it happened. Marth could not wait for it to be over so he could get back into his usual routine, but at least he only had to endure one night of it.

The room the king chose for the meeting had a high ceiling and marble floors, with huge pillars lining the walls that were only really for looks, rather than holding up the roof. A long, polished dining table was in the exact middle of the room, with lit candles and glasses of red wine. Chairs were at every place of the table, but only four would be occupied that night, for the guards were to take their places at the doors of the room and not interrupt the meeting.

When the evening arrived, the king and Marth, with a few of their guards and Gathan, were ready at the table. The king sat at the head of the table in the chair that was so extravagant that it was nearly another throne, and Marth sat in the more plain chair directly to his left. The massive doors of the room were wide open, ready for the king and princess of Hyrule to enter any moment. Gathan stood in a far corner of the room, there to listen to what was said but to say nothing himself, so he could advise Marth on the matter later.

Footsteps sounded in the hall, and then two guards came through the open doorway. Behind them came two armed Hylian guards, followed by the king and the beautiful blonde princess. As they slowly entered the room, Marth and his father respectfully rose from their chairs. All four guards, Hylian and Altean, took their places against the wall, and the king and princess came forward slowly and bowed slightly. Though it was their country and their castle that this meeting was being held, Marth and his father made it a point to bow in return.

Marth had made sure to remove all weapons from himself before coming to the room. It would not be seemly for a to come to a peace-talk meeting with a sword on his person. The Hylian royalty did not seemed to be armed either, and as they were introduced, Marth discovered with interest that the princess's given name was Zelda. The name was catchy, and Marth liked the sound of it.

As the two kings held a short, friendly conversation, Marth and the princess overlooked one another. Zelda stood regally beside the table with the stance of a queen, her expression independent and serious, her head held high. Marth surveyed her with his usual look, a thin mouth and a raised eyebrow, but otherwise expressionless. She tilted her chin up and looked down her thin nose back at him. Her dress was certainly fit for a princess, made of only the best and most expensive foreign materials, and her crown was gold-plated and embedded with colorful jewels. From her pointed ears hung shining earrings, and her eyes were painted with a dark black around the lashes. She looked to be about eighteen years old or so, and Marth realized that this was the first time in months that he had really noticed anything in the such great detail that he was noticing her.

Marth's father bid everyone to sit down, and the guards by the door relaxed. Marth made sure to let the princess sit down before he sat himself, for a woman was always supposed to be seated before a man. The Hylian king sat on Marth's father's right, and Zelda directly beside him, thus seating Marth across from the foreign king and the princess across and to his left. He wished that she was sitting in her father's place, so he could get a better look at her without blatantly staring, though doing that had never really bothered him before.

Princess Zelda still had her head held high, but behind her look of pride seemed to be something resembling pain. She was not wilfully letting it show, but Marth somehow detected it. Anya would be thrilled to know that he was actually observing something with interest, the first time since the war with Doluna.

"It is in my mind that there must somewhere come an end to the rivalry between our two countries," Zelda's father said when everyone was in their places. "It has been going on between us for decades. I hope tonight will bring us peace."

Marth's father replied, "Yes, we must find some way to bring this violence to an end."

Marth quickyl stopped listening. His father had told him to keep his eyes open, and that's exactly what he was doing; his gaze seemed to be permanantly on Zelda. She glanced back at him every now and then, and a look of discomfort eventually came to her face. Little did she know, when something caught Marth's attention, he had a habit of staring. Right then he did not think that it was wrong for him to be doing this, for this was the princess of one of his rival countries, and she must not know what to think about his staring at her. For all she knew, he could be plotting to drive a dagger through her throat.

The two kings held up the talks between theirselves, and saying nothing, Zelda reached for a wine glass. She touched the rim to her lips, then for some reason changed her mind and set it back on the shining table. Her blue eyes traveled to the small burning flame of a candle in front of Marth and rested there. If the flame had not been there, it would have seemed that she was staring at Marth's chest. She had an air about her that appeared to be sad, or somewhat depressed. Marth did not like it; she was too beautiful to be sad that way.

Marth could feel Zelda's guards keeping a close eye on him, and he turned his head and gave them a dirty look. They saw it but gave no expression in return. The conversation between the kings had been going well so far, but suddenly there was a hint of anger in the voices. Marth quickly listened to what they were saying.

"It is not only my country who has attacked yours," the Altean king said. "It has gone both ways."

"Of course that is true," Zelda's father replied. "Though I wish it were not so; there is no need for this anymore."

"Agreed. But we must admit that there has been at least some peace between us through the years."

Unexpectedly, Zelda spoke up. Her eyes flashed to the Altean king. "The parents of one of my friends were killed in an Altean raid. I do not call that peace."

Marth ran his tongue over his lower lip. So she was feisty as well. But did she not know that that was just the way wars went?

"Miss," Marth's father said carefully, "if we can all come to an agreement tonight, I hope that these things will all be behind us soonly."

Zelda was still not afraid to meet the king's gaze. "I am for peace. I just do not forget the things that have happened in the past."

"Nor do I."

Marth was watching with interest. This princess was just as stubborn as himself- which was a rare thing to see.

"Not that I'm saying that I'm holding a grudge," Zelda continued. "This thing happened over fifteen years ago. There is nothing to be done about it now, I know."

"The only thing that we can do," her father chimed in, "is come to a solution."

Zelda finally looked down at the table. "Father, I cannot say that I'm quite ready to sign a peace agreement yet. Too much has happened."

Her father sighed and looked at the other king. "I can't do anything if my daughter, future queen of Hyrule, does not wish for the thing."

Marth had been told to stay silent, but he ignored the order. "Are you saying that you don't want peace?" he challenged.

"No, young prince," the rival king replied. "I imagine that that is what we all want; I just cannot do it without my daughter's consent."

It seemed like a logical saying. But the talking, debating, and sometimes arguing went on for quite a long time. Marth finally entertained himself with watching the flickering of the flames on the candles, and Zelda's movements. She ignored him for the most part, but he saw her glance at him out of the corner of her eye every now and then. As the discussion between the two kings went on, their heirs were quiet but listening closely. Zelda glanced at Marth afer awhile, and a small frown etched between her eyebrows, but Marth just raised an eyebrow and continued to stare at her, his chin in his hand. She looked away, then glanced back a few minutes later, to discover that nothing had changed. She shifted uncomfortable in her chair and tossed her long blonde hair back. Finally, she changed her way of going about things and smiled slightly at him, as if that would make him look somewhere else, but he did not move, even to smile back. She sniffed and titled her pretty chin up and closed her eyes. Marth had not felt this way for months; something actually had caught his attention, and held it.

It was obvious that the discussion was leaning towards the signing of a peace agreement, but the Hylian king would not do it if his daughter was not willing to. Marth at last moved and picked up a wineglass. The wine burned his throat, but he had drank it before and had gotten used to it after awhile. He had never really had enough to get out-and-out drunk, because he could not stand to drink that much of it.

A few end words decided that the peace talks were over. The kings rose from the table and bowed to each other while shaking hands, the Hylian king saying, "We will inform you of our decision later, for we do want peace, but I cannot tell you yet." Marth stood from his chair in sync with Zelda, who now had her eye on him. They stepped away from the table to join their fathers, and now that she could see all of him, she looked him over thoroughly. He felt her eyes on him but did not return the gaze. He could not help but think that she was very interesting; perhaps a miracle happened and she thought the same about him.

He had to kiss her hand now- it was customary when bidding a woman farewell. She had obviously been expecting it, for she held up her hand when he reached for it. He grasped her thin fingers lightly, but kept his eyes locked with hers as he kissed the back of her hand. Maybe it was the way that he was looking at her, but she suddenly had the air of ebarrassment around her. She plucked her hand away and took her place beside her father, her head held high and her back straight. Marth noticed that she was very nicely shaped.

When all of the bowing and hand-shaking was over, the Hylian king and princess were escorted from the room. Marth's father mumbled something to himself, then followed his guards out a small door at the back of the room, and Marth was left in the room by himself.

That night, long after the rival king and princess were gone, Marth was in his dwelling in deep thought. He lay back on his bed with many thoughts swirling through his head, many possibilities. He had not thought and planned this hard for a long time now, for he had been knocked back into reality today without even being spoken to. In his opinion, Princess Zelda was enough to cure even the worst of depression.

Marth had finally reached his decision, after hours of pondering on it. He got up from the bed, taking care to put his weight on his good knee when stepping down. He was across the room in only a few strides, and he unlocked his dwelling doors and swung them open without any thought to being quiet. The halls were empty, save for the lone guard who was posted outside the prince's doors. Marth ignored him and made his way down the hall, the bottom of his cloak brushing the marble floor as he went. He made sure to keep his walk slow and authorative, and two servant girls who were standing under the light of a torch on the wall bowed low when they saw him. He ignored them as well and continued on. Royalty was a very complicated thing; had he passed the girls and they had not bowed, he would have not ignored them. He would have demanded to know why they disrespected him; but when they did bow down, he did not commend them for doing it. It was just the way things went.

There was another set of doors at the end of the hall, but there was a guard posted here to open them for the people who passed by. The man mumbled, "Your highness," and dipped his head slightly as he opened the door. Marth passed through and entered the throne room, a high-ceilinged room with a half-circle of pillars around the thrones. Armed guards were everywhere here, for the king spent a lot of his time just sitting on his royal throne when idle. The queen's throne, which was directly beside the king's, had been empty for years. Someone once asked the king why he did not marry again and get another queen, and the king had replied, "Because I leave the kingdom to Prince Marth before long, and it will be his queen upon the throne."

Marth came down the few stairs that dipped down into the circle of cut-out floor that was before the throne, his eyes on his father the king. Everyone, servants and guards, seemed to be watching the prince, all breath held. Marth's father was a very unpredictable person. If the king happened to be in a bad mood when someone approached him, it would be immediate death to that person if the king did not hold out his sceptre. It was a pointless thing, really, just something to excercise the king's power, but it was a deadly and serious thing. It was why the king was seldom approached this way.

Marth ascended a couple of the steps that went up to the platform of the throne and waited. He did not have much fear that his father would let him die. There was a line of guards placed behind the king's royal seat, and if so many minutes passed without the raising of the sceptre, they were to put their weapons to work, or drag the person off the be killed. When Marth was younger, he had heard that his father had let a few of his most trusted servants die, merely because he had not been in the mood to listen to what they had to say.

A few silent seconds passed, and then the king raised the sceptre to his son. As customary, Marth reached out and touched the top of the golden sceptre, an act of acknowledging the king's power. The king's advisors were close beside the throne, but they moved away when Marth ascended the rest of the steps. The prince slowly dropped down to his good knee, his hands on the armrest of the throne; another required action of the situation. It was not for the one who deliberately approached the king to stand while their king sat, even if it was the prince.

"What is it that you wish, my prince?" the king said at last.

Marth rested his forehead on the armrest of the throne, then lifted his head. "I have something for my father the king to hear."

"Do we have danger in Altea?" the king asked with alarm.

"Nothing like that, Father."

The man studied his son for a moment. "You seem to be in high spirits tonight. Was it the wine?"

"No, sir." Marth tilted his head to the side. "It will be the good-doing of Altea, if you let it be so."

"Rise and tell me."

Marth stood slowly, his cloak falling around the back of him. "If you give me your permission to contact the princess of Hyrule... I know the perfect way to bring decades of peace to our two kingdoms."

-O-

Unexpectedly during the evening meal one night, Dorobis declared that he was going to hold a masquerade the next day. Memnet, Jennan, and Matayo looked at him in confusion, then at each other, frozen in mid-move. Since when did their father do anything unexpected such as this, and something that was not sinister? But Dorobis announced it as if it were the most normal thing in the world.

"Father, may I ask why...?" Matayo trailed off.

"Can't a man hold a masquerade without it being such a strange thing?"

Jennan had a million questions that she wanted to ask, but it would be unwise to ask their father anything. He seemed to be eternally angry at Jennan and hardly ever even looked at her, no less answered her questions. She hoped that Matayo or Memnet happened to ask something that would give her an answer.

Beth, who was seated besided Memnet, dropped her fork and put her hands together in delight. "It sounds like a wonderful idea! I haven't been to a party in months." Though the rest of them had never been to a party such as a masquerade.

Dorobis leaned back in his chair. "I have already invited the guests, including your aunt from Barrack." He seemed to look at Jennan as he said this, and she stabbed her fork into her plate and looked away. "All of them should arrive in the late afternoon."

And most of them did. Jennan got up early, but the guests did not begin arriving until the afternoon. The house was really not big enough, so most of the men went down across the pasture to Dorobis' dwelling. Jennan put on her best dress, a dark purple trimmed with red, and Memnet helped her fix her hair, put up in the usual way but this time with wavy ringlets hanging down. Memnet looked very striking herself- she actually had her hair up for once.

"I saw some of the guests earlier," Jennan said as her sister twisted her black hair. "There were a lot of young men."

Memnet teased, "Hopefully Link doesn't find out that you noticed." She handed Jennan one of the black feathed eye masks, which had once been their mother's a long time ago. It was customary at a masquerade to conceal your identity, or at least wear a mask.

"I meant for you." Jennan smiled and put the mask in place. It matched the color of her hair.

"Me? Oh, you know that I don't have any interest for a man right now."

"I didn't either, until Link came."

"Yes, you were lucky." Memnet put on her mask. "But it would take someone very special to catch my attention."

But as the day wore on, Jennan noticed a certain young man who seemed to have his eye on Memnet, though her sister either did not notice or just pretended that she did not. Jennan could not really tell what the young man looked like, for he had a mask over his eyes as well, but he seemed to be around Memnet a lot. Jennan wanted to tell her sister to talk to him, but then the party officially started and there was no open moment.

Jennan had informed Link of the masquerade the night before, and since Dorobis had not invited the slaves, Link stayed in the stable most of the time. He also had a disliking of large crowds in small spaces, so Jennan unfortunately did not expect to see him for the rest of the night.

Their aunt Olivia, the one from Barrack, arrived in the evening with two female escorts. Jennan had to admit that her aunt looked very pretty tonight, but she knew the woman to have a short and snippy personality. She also had an air about her that told that she thought of herself highly; more than she ought to think. It was not even that she was wealthy or anything unusual. Well, she was Dorobis' sister.

Ima had prepared a lot of food for the party, and the entire kitchen table was covered with it. When Jennan came inside from the cold for a drink, she felt sorry for the old woman and offered to help.

"In that dress?" Ima exclaimed, though gratefully. "No, Jennan, I'll take care of it all. It gives me something to do."

Jennan eyed the glasses of sparkling drink on the table. "I want to try the champagne," she declared. She had never tasted it before and had always wondered what it was like.

Ima sighed and looked around as if to make sure no one was looking, though the two of them were alone in the house, and then agreed. "But just taste it. I don't want you getting drunk on it or anything," she teased. So Jennan tasted it, and when it burned her nose and stomach, put it back and had no intention of trying it again, and Ima laughed at her.

Outside in front of the house, where there was a wide open circle of space, the dance was going to be held. It was strange to see so many nice clothes and masked faces in the front yard, lit by firelight, but Jennan did not mind it. It was interesting for something out of the ordinary such as this to be happening at their house. Two men were playing stringed instruments that provided the slow waltz music, and a woman joined in on a harp. Jennan came outside and sat herself down out of the way on the porch steps and watched the elegant dancers in front of her. Most of the other people who were not dancing were standing on the porch and conversing with each other, and more than once a young man came up to Jennan and asked her to dance, but soon left when she refused them. She had alread told herself that if Link was not going to be attending the party, that she would dance with no man but Matayo.

If there was anyone who seemed to be enjoying themselves too much, it was Beth. She danced with any man who asked her, young or not, and obviously liked every minute of it. When she and her partner whirled by Jennan, Beth gave her cousin a defiant look, as if she thought that Jennan was not dancing because no one had asked her. For a moment Jennan had the mind to tell Beth that that was not the case, but then decided that it was a ridiculous thing in the first place, and it would be senseless to argue it. She suddenly did not care what Beth thought.

Dorobis danced with two women- Olivia his sister and a strange blonde woman that Jennan did not know. He was actually with the latter most of the time, and Jennan was beginning to wonder that it might be one of the reasons that her father had thrown this party. Maybe he had met this woman on one of his trading journeys and liked her. It was strange to think that Dorobis liked anything; everyone said that since his wife's death years ago, he had turned into a different person, though that was the only way Jennan knew her father.

The blonde woman was very pretty, and she could waltz very well. Jennan was unnerved to see her father actually smile and laugh- something she had hardly ever seen in her entire life. Mabye it was just the effects of too much champagne in his body, but she doubted it. He only smiled like that when he was with that woman, and Jennan was interested to find out who she was. Had Jennan and her father had a normal father/daughter relationship, she would have felt a twinge of jealousy, but since they did not, she did not feel it. She only felt annoyed that her father thought it all right to like someone, but acted as if it were wrong for Jennan to.

Memnet suddenly appeared beside her, her brown hair shining. She looked good in her black mask. "No one asked you to dance?" she asked quizically.

"Yes, I just don't want to," Jennan said, folding her hands in her lap. "Unless Matayo gets over here and gets some manners."

Memnet smiled. "I'll make sure to tell him."

Jennan's eye fell back through the crowd to their waltzing father. "Who is that woman that father's dancing with?"

Memnet picked up her pretty skirts and stepped up onto a higher step to see over the heads of the other people. "I don't know," she replied, her forehead forming a frown behind her mask.

Jennan was going to pursue the topic further, but the young man that seemed to have his eye on Memnet appeared beside them. He was tall and thin, but his face was hidden by his mask and shadows. He offered his hand to Memnet. "Would you like to dance?"

Memnet swallowed and looked down at her sister, as if asking for advice. Jennan smiled and nodded once, and Memnet turned and took the young man's hand, and then they were off and waltzing with the rest. Out of the corner of her eye, Jennan noticed Artos in the shadow of the firelight by the porch, and he almost looked pained when Memnet accepted the invitation.

Link was watching the whole party from the stable door. Now that it was winter, the trees had lost their leaves and it made the view of the house from the stable much easier, and he took advantage of it. It was just as well that he was not permitted to attend, for he hated large crowds, and besides, he had never learned how to dance. It was much easier to stand back and watch from here.

Rhashidi had joined him a few minutes ago, and they both stood as dark outlines against the lantern light that filled the stable. The wolf-boy was silent, save for when he would every now and then sniff the air and force it back out through his nose, and Link was comfortable with this arrangement. Neither of them were much for talking, but he also wanted to keep his attention on the dance, just in case he missed anything. He saw Jennan on the porch steps and saw various young men come and converse with her. Link could not hear what they were saying, but when Jennan smiled and shook her head and the young men left her, he figured that they had been asking her to dance with them. And no wonder. She was a beautiful girl with an attractive air about her. No wonder the boys liked her.

And Link could relate to that, but on a higher level. He had liked Jennan when he had first starting talking to her and they were still strangers to each other, but he had loved her after he had gotten to know her. She was as beautiful on the inside as she was on the outside, and Link was glad that he knew it well. Yes, they had done some stupid things, and Link still felt bad over their baby that they had lost, but he and Jennan were trying their best to get past it. Link actually felt more badly about it than he had let on, for he was not one to just blurt out what he was feeling, but he knew that Jennan did not want to think about it anymore.

Link had made it a deliberate point to stay far away from Dorobis. The man was violent sometimes, especially when he was angry, and he seemed to be angry all the time for the past couple of weeks. Link knew that the man hardly ever talked to Jennan anymore, as if he was trying to guilt her into stop loving Link.

For some reason, Dorobis had not tried even once to take the Master Sword back. Link kept it with him almost all the time and had killed no one yet, so maybe the man saw no reason for it; or he was afraid to take it. Link was usually a very gentle person, but he could be harshly intimidating if he wanted to be, and it was no secret that he could fight and kill. But Link also had the feeling that Dorobis had it in his mind that he would not have to worry about the Hylian slave anymore, for the man's plan was still to sell him to his sister. Since there had been no direct advances over the situation, Link had not decided yet what he would do about it, but he would have to decide more quickly than he had thought.

Something caught his eye, on the other side of the moving dancers. When Link looked closer, he discovered that it was Dorobis and his sister Olivia talking between theirselves, close together as if what they were saying was for no one else to hear. They kept glancing over at the stables, conversed some more, then glanced back again. Link suddenly felt a chill, but it was not from the cold. Olivia passed something to Dorobis, they motioned towards the stables, and then they shook hands firmly.

Link had no doubt as to what had just happened, though he could hear nothing that had been said. It was obvious that Olivia had finally accepted her brother's offer of his Hylian slave, but Link did not plan to go along with it that easily. If he was now under Olivia's name, that meant she would want him to go with her when she left in a few hours, and Link was just not going for it. He did not not really want to create a scene with his refusal, for he was sure that most of these people at the masquerade were slave-traders theirselves, but he was ready to do what it took.

Rhashidi seemed to sense Link's sudden change in mood, and his ears tilted back uncertainly. "What?" he asked bluntly, but Link did not answer the question, for Dorobis and Olivia were approaching the stable.

"Rhashidi," Link said slowly, "don't do anything unless I give you the word."

Rhashidi tensed, and an involuntary growl escaped his throat. At a wave of Link's hand, he backed off into the woods. Olivia and Dorobis were quite close now, and for a moment Link was unsure whether he should turn and leave or fight. But he decided to stand firm and face whatever was going to be brought his way, though he pretty much already knew what it was going to be.

"I'm sure I don't have to explain to you what's going on," Dorobis snapped at Link when they got close. "My sister's bought you from me, and that means you go with her when she leaves tonight."

Should he make an argument? He was totally unsure at what to do, but suddenly Jennan was there standing beside him. Though it was a strange time to make an observation such as this, Link noticed that she smelled good.

"What are you doing?" she asked her father directly.

"I am giving Olivia what is rightfully hers," Dorobis boasted, and seized Link's wrist. Link's fist immediately clenched and his arm natrually tensed up. If this went on for long, Dorobis was about to have the fight of his life.

"No," Jennan said seriously, a boldness in her voice that Link had never heard before. "You're not just getting rid of him."

"Who are you to say that? You have no authority over what goes on with this."

Jennan pulled her mask off angrily. Olivia looked confused at the whole situation. "You don't have any either. You just think that you do."

Link made an attempt to free his wrist, but Dorobis held tight. One more second of this, and Link had enough. "If you've sold me over to her," he said to Dorobis, "then that means I can do this." On the last word, his free fist came up and smashed Dorobis across the jaw with all the strength he had, and the man quickly let go and staggered backward. Olivia's hands shot to her mouth, and a few other people noticed the commotion stopped dancing, and soon the music ceased. Dorobis gathered his composure, but suddenly Artos and Matayo were there beside Link, a sign to their father that they would fight against him if they had to. Link still had his fists clenched, and he narrowed his eyes at Dorobis challengingly. Everyone in the small group knew that if the man threw a punch, Link and the two friends that had just shown up to help him would put up a hard fight, and not to mention Rhashidi would launch himself from the woods in an attack. Dorobis was well aware of this, and after glaring at Matayo and Jennan for acting like traitors to him, he backed off a few steps.

"Don't think that anything has changed," he growled, touching the trail of blood that ran from his mouth. "One punch does not change the fact that you are a slave." He glared at Link.

An idea suddenly swirled in Jennan's head, and she rushed past everyone into the stable. She grabbed the reins of Olivia's horse, which was already tacked up, and mounted as quickly as she could, which was not easy in the dress she was wearing. There was no time to ride side-saddle, so she straddled the horse and was out the door in a few thundering steps. She yanked the horse to a stop outside and glared down at her father. "We'll see what changes this situation." Her angry brown eyes flashed to her aunt. "And you don't do anything until I get back." She had specifically chosen her aunt's horse, so the woman could not leave Carrickfergus. Of course, she could just take one of Dorobis' horses, but it was unlikely.

"Where are you going?" Matayo exclaimed.

"Nevermind," Jennan said. She looked down at Link and tried to give him a reassuring look. "Don't let them do anything to you until I get back."

Link desperately wanted to ask questions, but there was no time. He had trained Jennan well when it came to horseback riding, for she gave the brown horse a sharp kick and was soon thundering off across the plantation. Link called for Rhashidi, who quickly emerged from the woods. Link stared off after Jennan and said, "Rhashidi, I don't know what she's got planned. But follow her."

-O-

Well, Jennan sure does have something up her sleeve, and so does Marth. Review it, please.