A/N: A hearty thank you to ARandomDay, hurricaneclaw, , TheTextingNeko, and Hydraya for all your reviews! God bless you!

P.S. Is this enough of Caine for you? ;)

~Penelope

Chapter Eleven:

Face To Face

"For we wrestle not against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this world, against spiritual wickedness in high places.

Wherefore take unto you the whole armour of God, that ye may be able to withstand in the evil day, and having done all, to stand." ~ Ephesians 6:12-13

Caine watched the trees pass by in monstrous green blurs as he sailed over them, relishing the sweet, cool night air on his face. He snorted smoke from his flaring nostrils; he sensed danger, adrenaline, and excitement. The dragon army was eager. And no small wonder – they flew ever northward, closer and closer to Keskus.

His eyes strayed to the massive black dragon flying alongside him, wings batting so close that Caine could feel their wind. Ameas had said nothing during the entirety of the conquest, and had merely sat outside the cities as his soldiers pillaged and then set them ablaze. But through his crimson eyes, Caine could see the gears whirling in the great dragon's head, and knew that something big was about to happen.

They flew for Tarha, a city not a mile from the famous Lon Lon ranch. Their trail north was blazed – quite literally. The fire raged over the forests, and consumed the dry autumn terrain. With its powerful heat at their backs, and Ameas Night at their head, nothing could stop them.

The lights of Lon Lon came into sight. Caine frowned; no, that wasn't Lon Lon… Those were the miniature beacons of campfires. Many of them, scattered just outside the ranch's limits.

"Ameas…" Caine meant to point them out, but Ameas rumbled.

"I see them…" His eyes seemed to have brightened, lighting up like the firelight under the moon's aura.

An encampment? But… who?

"It's the king and his company."

Caine looked up at Ameas, wondering how it was the dragon seemed to know his thoughts, but relaxed upon seeing the narrowing of his eyes, the deep concentration on his scaled face. With his trained eyesight, most likely Ameas could see any emblems or uniforms in the camp ahead.

"Do we attack them?" Caine asked, and Ameas turned his great head about to gaze at him.

After a moment or two of making the prince fidget under his intense gaze, the dragon chortled.

"Is there any other way?"

~-LoZ-~

Link saw the great approaching shadow before anyone else reacted. He leapt from his place on Malon's porch, and stared with horror as it drew closer. When he spoke, his voice was low, tainted with determination, warning… and a hint of fear.

"Malon, take your family, Ilia, and her daughter, and leave quickly."

Her confusion was evident in her words. "But… What?"

"Quickly, Malon. Death comes on wings…" He could see the massive mainstays as the tips brushed the moonlit treetops. "Escape while you can!"

Without further question, she scrambled to her feet and disappeared into the house. Within moments, the candles in the windows flickered out, and the ranch was plunged into darkness. In the silence that followed, Link swore he could hear the heavy beating of draconic wings.

"Sire!" called a soldier from the encampment. "…It's…"

It was upon them. The great shadow angled its scaled wings upward, halting its monstrous momentum and dropping to the ground. Its claws gouged pits into the earth, and it trembled. Link staggered, even as he maneuvered through the soldiers' camp. He reached the head, and stared up at the colossal beast.

Scales like shining black armor, and wings as large and long as a brigantine. Massive spines and a thicket of crests and frills adorned its head, and its tail swung long and heavy as the tallest tree. But what made him shiver were its eyes. Link had never seen such wicked eyes, overflowing with malice, contempt, and outright bloodlust – not even Ganondorf's haughty golden gaze compared. In those scarlet depths, he saw swirling murder, deceit, pride, and a deep, hard determination. For a spare moment, Link thought of how Zelda had always said he seemed to come alive when protecting those he loved; she claimed she could always see the fury and resolve in his eyes, and Link could only hope that he never, ever looked like the dragon that now stood before them.

Then, Link saw the army. They hoarded behind the great one like a swarm of bees – killer bees. All of them snorted and shrieked in fiendish excitement. While he could see no definite colors or features in the dark night, he could see clearly the hundreds of little floating pinpoints of red light – their eyes. The dragon army was restless, and countless as far as that went. Link surveyed his own troops, and knew it would take a miracle to defeat the beasts. The odds were stacked ten to one!

The great dragon then spoke, its voice deep and rumbling, and Link saw many of his men shudder. "Stand down, O king of the Hylians, and you and your men shall be spared."

Indignation swelled in Link's chest, and he stepped from the edge of his army, looking up at the monstrous creature. "You will go no further! Go back from whence you came!"

~-LoZ-~

Caine expected his father to be too proud to back down now. He would claim that many had lost their lives to defend Hyrule, and they would not let them die in vain. But wouldn't it be in vain if they all died as well? He had never quite seen his father's logic, and it made him chortle even now.

"I would advise you, Link," said Ameas, raising his voice slightly. Caine could hear the strained irritation. Welcome to my world. "Heed my warnings. I am a king of my word; you will escape with your lives if you leave now."

"We will stand until every last dragon is defeated… or we shall die in the attempt."

Caine sighed, and pushed away the little voice in the back of his mind that screamed for the sake of his father. The Hylian king had brought this upon himself; Caine could not change, nor argue with that fact.

"How noble of you…" He saw the glint in Ameas' eyes, and knew the dragon lord preferred this. Making an example of enemies foolish enough to stand in their way. There would be much bloodshed this night.

Then Ameas roared, and the sound made the trees, and the grass, and the puny little soldiers all tremble. That was the go ahead; the dragon army surged forward. Caine led half into the night skies, to attack from above. That was, after all, the most fun.

Screams and battle cries filled the night, sounds which Caine had become quite accustomed to. Though, they had yet to face such a resilient force as this – most had simply run away. If there was anything to be said for King Link's men, it was that they died hard.

Caine swooped down with blinding speed, claws extended, and felt weight on his arms. He clenched his talons, felt something in his grasp, and arced upward again. The knight in his clutches screamed in fear at the staggering height.

"You might've learned by now that all valor is in the end for naught," whispered Caine with a forked tongue into the Hylian's ear, just before retracting his claws and watching the man drop. His scream filled Caine's ears, but was cut short as he plummeted into another soldier and both fell against the ground. Neither got up again.

Some dark force in Caine's being felt exhilarated, and he released a blast of white flames into the air, watching the sparks waft down toward the army.

An arrow chinked off his scaly armor. Then another. Caine growled in annoyance, and pierced the forces below him for the culprit. Amidst the battling soldiers, strewn bodies, and frenzied dragons, it wasn't hard to find the forest green of a certain man's tunic. His eyes burned with fury, and he dropped closer to the throng, keeping the green-clad soldier in his sights.

He knew who he was. And he would not kill him. Merely show him that this certain black dragon was not to be trifled with.

Caine barely had enough time and momentum to dodge upward as the king's blade came arcing upward, straight for his chest. He snarled, and resisted the urge to blurt out in rage: Are you so blind that you would try to slay your own son? But he couldn't let his father know who he was. It would shatter the playing field, and each side would become obligated to the other. It crippled Caine enough, knowing he couldn't in his right mind bring great harm to his father. To his chagrin, he still had a deep, emotional tie to the man. But he could, in the limits of his already strained conscience, give the Hylian king a proper warning.

He lashed out with his claws, and felt a jolt as Link parried with his blade. His arm stung slightly where the sword had slit his scales, but nothing more; Caine alighted on the ground a few meters from his father, and deflected another sword stroke with an outward lash of his wings. He noted that he towered over the great Hero, a feeling he had never relished in his time as a Hylian.

With a sadistic grin, he shot a blast of fire at Link, and as the king blocked it with his shield, Caine swooped up and over him, landing firmly behind him and whipping his tail across the armored back. He was met with a satisfactory grunt as the Hero stumbled forward.

But he didn't down him. He wanted a bit more play time. Never before had he possessed such power over his father. And he wanted it to last.

Link whirled to face his adversary, and Caine couldn't help stiffening under his intense gaze. He'd never seen such an expression on his timid, soft-spoken, pushover father's face. This was not the same man that had raised him. This was a warrior, a seasoned soldier, a chosen Hero. And for the first time, Caine could see how Link had earned that title.

A ringing blade jolted Caine from his thoughts, and he furled his wings just in time to dodge a shattering blow to his mainstay. Had he not reacted so quickly… In retaliation, he used the Hero's momentum against him and swiveled to the left, out of his path, all the way around so that his heavy tail now approached from behind. He struck Link at the knees, making him collapse. He puffed his scaled chest at the thought that most foes had never lived long enough to catch the Great Hero off guard, much less attack him from behind. Caine was doing well.

He pounced for the king as he sprawled on the ground, but fluttered away when he nearly met the point of his blade. Caine growled; he couldn't seem to get close enough. His father always had his sword at the ready, and for a moment he wondered if he ever had troubles prying it from his fingers after a battle. He could imagine Link's knuckles were white under the leather gloves as he gripped the hilt.

Caine struck again, this time from above and below. He hovered in the air, using his tail to target Link's feet while swinging his head ram-like just above the Hero's shoulders. But Link was coordinated, and lithe – he brought his shield up, bashing the jaw of the latter, while jumping over the former. Caine staggered backward, stunned. Then Link came in for the kill, gripping the pommel with both hands and thrusting upward, aiming to slide the blade under his black scales and straight through his neck.

But Caine was just as quick. He dodged to the right, and the blade passed through nothing. He chortled as the king's momentum brought him straight into his clutches. He gripped Link's sword arm in a clawed iron fist, grinning wickedly as the Hylian's eyes widened considerably. He bared his teeth in a draconic grin, and swung the Hero about, so that he now stood behind him. Caine placed a taloned foot at the base of the arm he held, just at the shoulder blade and, in a deft move that would've made Impa proud, twisted Link's arm violently backward. His keen ears picked up the sought after pop, and the green warrior screamed in pain.

Caine released him, and he staggered forward, uninjured arm clutching for his shoulder. The prince chortled again; it had worked. The Hero of Time was now-

He leapt backward as Link came to life in a vicious whirlwind attack, his blade gleaming in the moonlight in his left hand. He should have guessed; of course he would be skilled with both hands! Snarling, Caine blasted fire at him without much thought. The king had dropped his shield to take up his sword; he attempted a tuck and roll to dodge the flames, and cried out in pain at the slightest movement of his injured arm.

Flames exploded just alongside the battle, and Caine looked up to see Ameas flooding the nearby pasture with fire. The horses screamed and reared in outright panic, galloping for the opposite side of the fence, but he knew it wouldn't be long before they were swallowed by the inferno. With a glance to the hunched figure at Caine's feet, Ameas then turned to the ranch house and, without hesitation, barraged it with his billowing, fiery breath.

With surprising speed, Link leapt to his feet. "No!"

Caine felt a twinge of something – humanity? Something deep within his heart hoped that the innocents that had been in the home had gotten out safely. After all, Malon's family were dear friends, and they had known them for as long as he could remember.

Movement caught his eye, and he turned to see Link reaching for his bow which lay idle in the dry grass. The bow? How on earth was he going to shoot it with a dislocated shoulder? But the Hylian king gripped it in his left hand, having discarded the sword, and carefully transferred it to his other hand. When he attempted to lift his arm to aim, the limb only moved a few mere inches before the excruciating pain made another yell erupt from his lips.

In his peripheral vision, Caine saw something dart for him, and he whipped his head about to release a volley of flames. His eyes met the frightened soldier's just before the armored form was swallowed in the ghostly tongues.

A blade flashed, and the point swung for Caine's head. Panic instinct flared up in him, and in a blink, he gripped the sword hand and rammed his head into the head of his attacker. The figure flew backward from the force of the blow, and skidded to a stop on its back. It didn't move again, and Caine's eyes widened when his gaze came into focus on the green of his father's tunic. The king lay still, utterly unconscious. A gash ran diagonally over his forehead, and blood began to ooze into his hair.

While the battle continued to rage around him, he could only stare in shock. No matter how long he stared, his father's form remained prone and motionless. Caine wasn't sure whether to feel guilty, or elated. He, the runaway prince and second fiddle, had beaten the famed Hero of Time! It was only beginning to sink in…

Ameas blasted half the battlefield with writhing flames, and the rest of the soldiers who weren't caught in their heat scattered.

"Retreat!" someone shouted, and the army of Hylians began to fall back to the hills to the north. "Retreat, men! To Tarha!"

Caine, though not sure why, grabbed a passing soldier and flung him toward his father. The man stumbled over the king's body and stiffened with recognition. Caine flew away before he could look back.

~-LoZ-~

Something… something about that dragon's gaze… And what about that arm twist? That was a Sheikah exploit, not the guerrilla tactics of a common dragon! Link carefully rolled his sore shoulder as he rode along. So many questions raced around his head like projectiles from aimless catapults, but he couldn't dwell on them long.

The defeat in Tarha was a hard one. Many good men had lost their lives. The company that rode with him now across the dry grass of Hyrule Field was what was left of his force. Ordinarily, he would have left a good number of strong soldiers behind to continue to defend the city. But there was no city left to defend – the dragons had completely conquered it – and any men that had been left behind were either dead, or gravely wounded and had been smuggled out along with the women and children.

A humbling defeat. A humiliating defeat. Link had never seen such a devastating loss in all his time. Even when Zant and Ganon threatened Hyrule with Twilight, there had still been plenty of hope, and the death toll wasn't near what it was now. Innocents were falling right and left, trampled under the ruthless claws of this relentless, vengeful beast. And thus far, Link had been unable to prevent it.

And on top of it all, he was thoroughly beaten by a seemingly mindless beast – perhaps, not so mindless after all. Dragons generally were not intelligent beings; but this one had shown great skill in combat and had seemed to calculate each move. It had been no brainless animal – it was a skilled warrior. But dragons that reasoned were a rare find – perhaps, then, Ameas Night had an offspring?

Too many questions, and too few answers. The case of which made Link's head ache.

They returned to Keskus the image of a defeated host, and the cries of widowed women and fatherless children soon filled the air over the capitol city with their songs of woe, and mourning.

Link could only be thankful. At the mercy of the dragons, he might've not had the chance to return to his family, as many of his late men had. He might've not held Zelda in his arms once more, might have never seen Abyll's beaming grin, or Erulissë's angelic face again. Such were his thoughts every time he returned safely from a battle, or a quest. He truly had much to be thankful for, even in the face of defeat.

After a long, hot bath to soothe his sore muscles and bruised shoulder, and after slipping into loose, cool clothing, he reclined in his favorite chair by the hearth. No fire burned in its chasm today, and Link stared at the black scorch marks and ash that sat dormant in the pit. His thoughts drifted to Dahved and Malon, and Ilia and her daughter – had they escaped in time? The image of their house doused with flames would remain permanently etched in his mind. He had felt that sinking dread all too often… whenever evil used his love for his friends against him.

He hissed in pain as Zelda's massaging fingers roamed over his tender shoulder, and she paused.

"Sorry… I keep forgetting that's sore." Her voice held a slight ring of amusement, and he couldn't help but grin.

"How am I to know you aren't doing it on purpose?" He looked up at her.

Her response was tilting his chin up a tad further and leaning in to give him a kiss, upside down. But it was sweet as ever, and filled with playful apology. She teased him with her lips, making him shiver before pulling back again, and grinning down at him.

"That better?" Her eyes twinkled, but the only thought on his mind was her kiss.

"Uh-huh…" he said stupidly, and she laughed.

~-LoZ-~

"You seem abnormally quiet this evening, prince," rasped the shadowbat. But Caine didn't turn to look at it. "Are you not pleased with our victory?"

He stared at the carnage that was once the village of Tarha, his gaze hard and intense. His fibery wings quivered in the harsh winds, and he smelled the first frost on its teasing tendrils. A bit of unwanted conscience looked upon the wreckage, and shrieked in guilt and compassion, but that voice grew quieter with each passing hour. A new, stronger voice of power and pride was emerging, and Caine preferred to listen to its words.

This is what it takes for everyone, including you, to realize your true potential, your true power. You have hidden in the shadows for long enough, but you belong there no more. You are rising, rising! Soon, all shall see who Prince Caine Taurë truly is, and they will see that he is no coward, no weakling, no sniveling pupil of a blundering professor, and certainly no son of the king hidden in his father's shadow. At Ameas' side, you are strong, you are appreciated. He treats you as a son, does he not?

"Highness?"

"There was a man there…" The words rolled off his tongue, and for a moment, he felt detached from his own voice. As if he had no control over it at all. But the feeling quickly departed, and he sounded himself again. "In the battle…"

"The one you dispatched?"

"I only wish that were so." He was startled at his own words. "But no, he was alive. And I was content to let him live, if only to suffer in the injuries I inflicted upon him. But it was a strange feeling, to battle him…" His gaze darted to the bat. "He was my father."

The creature's foggy eyes widened and it nodded. "Ah, I see… You battled the king of Hyrule, the very Hero of Time? What a feat!"

"Yes… And I felt much pleasure at finally showing myself better than he. But… I could not bring myself to kill him. Even when I stood over him – I had only but to flick my wrist, slit his throat, and it would all be over… But I could not." His brow furrowed, and he stared down at his claws – his tainted, merciless, blood-stained claws. "Why could I not?"

"He is your father, and you are – beneath that dragon's skin – a man. Flesh and blood has much influence over your actions." Caine detected something in the creature's voice, but could not place it. "You could not help the control of your heart over your mind."

"But I've never let it overwhelm me before!" This time, Caine knew it was his own voice. It sounded very much like the pitiful boy he had thought he'd left behind in Keskus. "I took my own brother to the Master Sword just to see him shocked by its power!" The weapon tingled in his grasp as he spoke of it. "Certainly, I could…" The words seemed to die on his tongue. He could not even say it.

"Kill your father?"

He hesitated. Now that it was said out loud, he wasn't sure he could. "…Yes."

"Ah, but it is not so simple. In these kinds of circumstances, one can never be sure when the heart decides to meddle with the affairs of the mind."

How true that was. The heart was a terrible force, prone to lying and easily deceiving men and women foolish enough to let it rule them. Even Caine, who prided himself in the power of his mind, struggled to contain his emotions many a time. But all was becoming well, as the voice of his conscience was slowly dying away, and the calculating, knowledgeable, logical voice of his mind was beginning to take over.

~-LoZ-~

The shadowbat fluttered through the burning city, dodging collapsing structures or flying sparks as he made his way to the center, where waited its master. It cleared a particularly large mound of rubble, and found the clear space of the great square, in which lied the massive, gleaming body of flesh and scales that was Ameas Night. His wings were folded over his back like a regal cape, and he held his head high as he surveyed the devastation with pride.

"Sire…" said the creature, dropping to the ground and touching its forehead to the dirt in a groveling bow. Ameas snorted, and it knew that was all the go-ahead it was going to get.

"The prince struggles… with humanity. He battled his father today, as you saw, and he claims that while he knew he had the opportunity to slay him, he could not. He flounders under the weight of his emotional ties… as you know will not serve our purpose well."

The great dragon snarled. "Stop parroting my own words to me. I am not a groveling buffoon like you wretches; I know what I know, and what I see, and what I hear. I do not need to be told what I already know. And as for these 'struggles of the heart', they are soon to pass. Our hold on the boy's mind grows as we speak. It will not be long before he can resist it no longer."

"What of his sparing of the king? He could have ended it all this very night! Will he not be punished for such an obvious blunder?"

It saw the twitch of its master's lips, and it silenced immediately. It was treaded on glass shards, now.

"No… He will not." The dragon spoke slowly, and threateningly. "If we dare to lift a finger against him, he will run. He is yet a boy; and children tend to be emotional over things such as these. But in the battles to come, he will taste more of the bloodshed, more of the ruthless killing and he will mature quickly. Not even his father could endure the horrors of war as a boy and not return a man. It does strange things to you… War. And when all is said and done, the young prince shall be under our full control, his father will be dead – by our hand, or his – and we will take our rightful places as rulers of Hyrule, and eventually, all of the surrounding provinces."

"What of his brother? The younger one; the one the public favors. Surely he will be bold enough to stand against you."

The bat barely dodged the fireball in time; it should have known better than to wag its tongue. After all, it was impossible to forget Ameas' temper, which was as hot and billowing as the flames from his mouth.

"None shall stand against me!" he roared, and the creature quivered. "If I must purge this land of all foolish enough to brave the heat of my breath, I shall, and I will skewer every one of them on my claws, and crush their bodies in my fists, and lap their blood from my scales! None shall keep me from what is rightfully mine for a second time! Am I clear?"

The shadowbat cowered, and nodded pitifully. Ameas' face twisted in a furious growl, and he angled his great head to bathe the nearest building – one that was still standing, anyways – in a shower of flames. After a few long moments of breathing deeply, the dragon allowed himself a leer.

"And if that young, boisterous prince chooses to sign his own death sentence… then who am I to deny him his wish?"