Chapter Seventeen:

Traitorous Action

"Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends." ~ John 15:13

"Do not misunderstand me; I am grateful as any that the rebuilding process is going as well as it is, truly. But the draconic evacuation of the coastline seems far too hurried if you ask me. It makes me wary." Thoron scanned the rest of the council members. They sat in the library – a temporary Meeting Hall, as it were, until the palace was fully repaired. All about him were silent, saying nothing in objection, yet nothing in agreement either.

After a long moment of quiet, Rihst stood to take the floor. "I, for one, agree with the chancellor. It's too convenient! This is not a mere retreat; they're plotting something."

"And you have proof of these theories?" asked Link quietly. "Because we can't send the people into a panic over a hunch." His voice raised with his last words, emphasizing his point. His patience was never very durable with these men; he had enough stress on his shoulders as it was. He didn't need more. The council members glanced between one another guardedly.

"While that may be true," continued Rihst hesitantly, "we can't just do nothing, either. It's far too easy if we assume they've given up. Dragons are nothing if not stubborn creatures, and the last thing they'll stand for is surrender. They'll either achieve their goal, or die trying."

Underneath the stoic shell, the man in him shuddered at the thought – if that were true, then this war could last for months or even years to come. And with Hyrule struggling to stand as it was, he wasn't sure how much longer they would last. The dragons fought with a style foreign to most soldiers, and with their aerial advantage and fiery breath, it was nowhere near like fighting another human army. Not only that, but their numbers seemed to have increased sevenfold since the last time they were heard of, and even the Hylian army didn't have that kind of force.

But outwardly, Link kept a level head and a detached expression, though he couldn't help the slight furrowing of his brow. "And what, pray, do you suggest we do about it?"

Rihst didn't have an answer, and seemed to deflate under Link's intense gaze.

"Our armies have been cut in half," the king continued. "Scores have been left widowed and fatherless. Homes and cities have been destroyed. Our people are suffering, councilor. And if this short chance at respite is all we are going to get, then I say we use it well. Shelters are being rebuilt as we speak. The Gorons, thank God, have been a tremendous help in clearing away the rubble; Nabooru and her troops are keeping close eyes on the coastline, and will alert us if any dragons are sighted."

"But, Majesty," interjected Sigil, standing as Rihst took his seat again. "How will a messenger, whether on foot or horseback, outrun a draconic force if one does come?"

"They will not be able to simply bypass the coastal cities in one hoard. In order to get past our borders once again, they will have to do as they did before – city by city. And in doing so, they will give us time to meet them, and this time, we'll be ready for them. They won't have the element of surprise."

"And yet, you object to issuing an official warning to the people?" Thoron's words were sharp, at which Link turned his piercing eyes toward the older man.

"They have enough on their mind as it is," said he. "They don't need any more to concern themselves over. If an attack does come, however, our forces have evacuation plans set up, and we have just enough stationed in all the coastal cities for a select few to guide the people out of the cities and into the forests while the rest stay at the defenses."

Silence followed for the longest time as the council members pondered what he was saying. Zelda sat solemn beside him, and he took the moment to clasp her hand under the shadow of the table. Her expression remained the same, but as he entwined his fingers with hers, she gave them the slightest squeeze, and he kept a small grin from spreading over his face.

"Are there no other objections?" Link asked, scanning the ring of councilors with his blue gaze. Most of them either shifted uncomfortably, or returned the challenging stare steadily. None said a word.

He nodded. "Very well then, gentlemen, if you please – let us adjourn."

Without waiting for their consent, he stood, and helped his wife to her feet as well. They bid the councilors ado and, with Impa following closely behind, retreated from the library.

"Well… You handled that well," said the Sheikah with a hint of sarcasm.

Link cast a pointed look in her direction. "Was that supposed to be a congratulations, or a scold?"

"That would depend on how you take it."

"Well, I for one, can't stand those meetings – if you haven't figure that out by now, after fifteen years, well then I overestimated your insight."

Zelda laughed, and Impa simply cocked a wry smile, folding her arms over her chest.

"Well said. You've trained your tongue about as well as your sword arm."

"I learned from the best."

The Sheikah smirked before turning on her heel, walking slowly down the corridor and disappearing around the corner. Link silently thanked her; she had easily seen the ulterior motive for leaving the meeting so hurriedly. With a short sigh, he turned his attention to said basis of his intentions.

"Zelda, are you all right? You look pale…" His voice was laced with concern; stress could be disastrous for a woman in her state.

She offered him a small smile, the dark circles under her eyes narrowing with the expression, and she caressed his knuckles with her thumb. "Yes, yes, I'm fine."

He eyed her incredulously, tilting his head in studying her. "You're sure? Perhaps you should lie down…" His gaze drifted to the barely-acknowledgeable bulge of her abdomen; protective determination swelled in his chest.

"Link, darling, I've been lying down so much the past few days, I feel restless at the very thought of it!" She smiled, a genuine smile, clasping his hand between hers. Her fingers seemed so small compared to his… "Don't worry so much; I'm all right, really."

He allowed the tension in his shoulders to ebb away, and a wry smile crossed his features. "I'm sorry… I can't help it."

~-LoZ-~

He had remembered. That had been the difficult part. Now he had figured, and the results, while far-fetched, made sense. The mathematics of it were not hard, and any other option he thought of was either too convenient or made absolutely no sense. There was only one plausible answer to the question that plagued Thalion's mind – why did the Hylian king look so similar to him? The solution was simple.

He was his son.

He had long ago tied it together in his mind. Approximately thirty-five years prior to now, he had received a letter from a flame of his, one he hadn't seen or spoken to in a few months at the time – Lalaith Wilwarin. In it had been the dreadful news that she was expecting a child, his child, and was keeping it.

He had burned that wretched letter, and erased all evidence that he had ever been involved with the peasant woman at all. Each time she tried to contact him, he got rid of her letters without even opening them. He no longer wanted to know how she was faring…

That was the end of it. Or, it was supposed to be. That wretched child of illegitimacy wasn't supposed to come back to haunt him three decades later! Particularly now! He was so close, so close to his goal…

But no matter. So the Hylian king was his son – what did he care? He did not know the man, nor did he wish to; nothing held him bound to this, a perfect stranger. The worm had something he wanted, and therefore, had to be terminated, and quickly. There was no way he would simply crawl into his little hole just because he'd lost his draconic form. He was still just as powerful as he ever had been. The dragons still pledged their loyalty to him; beyond fiery breath and great size, what had he lost?

"Sir?" came a youthful voice behind him, startling him from his reverie and causing him to whirl about. The young prince jumped, eyeing him warily. "You… You sent for me?"

Ah, yes. After all – what better way to cripple a father than to target his precious son?

"Yes, I did, Caine," said Thalion, voice sickeningly sweet. "I wish to speak with you."

The prince frowned the slightest, keeping his distance from the lord – Thalion could not tell if this was intentional or involuntary.

"I'm all ears, my liege." Caine gave a short bow before standing at attention.

Thalion smirked at the boy – this would truly be enjoyable. "Do you know what would be the best way to get the Hylian king to bend to our wishes?"

He knew he had caught the prince off guard just by the confused expression on his young face. He tilted his head, a lock of black hair falling in front of his intense blue eyes. "Uh… Is that a rhetorical question?"

"No," Thalion laughed. He tried to keep things extremely lax, though he knew his casual mood was setting the young royal off.

"Then… I suppose it would be using something dear to him against him."

"Exactly." The boy was smart; a pity it would all go to waste… "I've been pondering, and I believe I've come up with the perfect plot to bring the king of Hyrule to his knees. Are you willing to help me with it?"

The boy had no inkling of what he was getting into. "Of course, sire."

The wicked grin that had so insistently tugged at his lips finally emerged, and he sneered down at the prince. "Excellent. Guards!"

The two dragon troops that were stationed just outside Thalion's doors at all times rushed in, and the noble pointed a rigid finger at Caine. "Seize him!"

The prince's eyes were wide as orbs as the winged beasts clamped their claws about his wrists, gruffly taking hold of him and twisting his arms behind his back. He cried out in pain, and they shoved him to his knees. "W-what… Let go of me! Ah!" The boy clenched his jaw, grimacing as they jerked on his already strained arms.

Thalion grinned sadistically, staring down his nose as the struggling youth. "Bind him. Have him ready to depart by nightfall – as our prisoner."

"Ameas!" Caine did not struggle much against the dragons' hold; he couldn't, anyhow. One wrong move, and his arms would break.

Thalion's smirk disappeared, and turned into a scowl. "Do not call me that. Ameas is dead; my name is Thalion Vonernil Faroth – the rightful heir to the Hylian throne."

He followed as the dragons dragged him down to the bowels of the mountain, to the tunnels that stank of death and rotting flesh. In the cells there, skeletons and corpses of prisoners long since dead waited. For the pleasure of seeing the prince squirm, Thalion took the shackles off the wrists of one of those poor, unfortunate men, breaking its decaying arms at the elbows, and tossed the iron manacles to the dragons to bind Caine with. As he expected, the prince paled to a satisfying shade of green as they clamped the shackles at his wrists, and then he tossed another pair to the dragons for his ankles.

Once the young royal was well bound in chains, Thalion beckoned the dragons to follow him to a large chamber down the hall. Along the wall were the weapons of the guards the once kept watch over the prisoners. The supply of unique weapons had been added to over the decades by the raiding of ships, merchant or otherwise. The Hylian noble gripped the leather handle of his personal favorite – the cat o' nine tails.

He sneered as he slowly turned around, fingering one of the long, thin strips of leather between his fingers. Glancing up, his smirk broadened as he saw the whites of the prince's eyes grow larger. "Do you know what this is, highness?" said he, leisurely, as if he held no weapon in his hands. He gave the whip a test swing, and the crack made Caine jump. "This, ah this, is the cat – my personal favorite among our grand selection of unusual devices."

The prince said nothing, so Thalion continued.

"There isn't much that can compare with the feeling of a whip in one's hand – sometimes, I wonder if it surpasses even the exhilaration when one runs his enemy through with a blade. To feel their flesh split under the sheer force of the leather, to see the blood run from numerous wounds, to hear their cries of anguish… I personally think it a much better punishment than a simple sword; wouldn't you agree?"

Thalion tossed the whip to the dragon nearest him, and nodded at it. "Fifteen lashes – no more. We only need him half dead, for now…"

The noble left them to it, striding down the corridors back to his great treasure room. The halls were then filled with Prince Caine's screams as the snap of the whip echoed off the walls.

~-LoZ-~

They came so fast. It seemed that one moment, the snow-laden landscape glistened in peaceful, hopeful silence. Then… Screams. Flames. Death, blood. Carnage. Defeat. It all came driving down, blow after heartless blow. The already frail structures in the process of being rebuilt were crushed even lower. The walls were barraged under projectiles from catapults, hulking stones doused in oil and set ablaze. Men, women, and children alike were slaughtered. Utter chaos.

The draconic army was lead by a ruthless man in black armor. One whom the king of Hyrule had never seen. He fought with the agility of a panther, and his skill with his black blade rivaled even Link's.

This, he knew. For as he ducked under that lethal ebony sword yet again, he swore he saw a tuft of his blond hair disappear from his forehead. He raised the Master Sword to block the next stroke, and the sabers clashed in a shower of sparks and an ear-shattering clang. The black knight sneered, blue eyes narrowing, filled with venom, and gave the king a sharp push backward. Link stumbled, and quickly righted himself.

Just in time to see the point of the black sword plunging for his belly, ready to gut him. With a yelp of surprise, he leapt aside, and parried his opponent's blade with a downward stroke. But the black knight was too quick, and Link's sword hit open air, and his momentum made him stagger. Which was the perfect opportunity. The knight brought his sword up, hilt first, and slammed the pommel into the younger man's temple and sent him reeling. Stars swirled in his vision.

Cold steel swiped the side of his face, and he felt blood caress his cheek. His sword hand exploded in pain, and he nearly dropped the Master Sword – the fact that he didn't seemed to anger his foe, and he felt the wind of another deadly stroke. He didn't even feel himself duck.

The knight's fist suddenly flew from his side, and his sharp knuckles collided with Link's nose, snapping his head back. He felt no break, thank God, but instantly, blood began seeping down his face, and he staggered once more. Spitting blood, Link planted his feet, and steeled himself – he couldn't let this villain beyond the palace hall! Zelda had been adamant that she wasn't leaving – she was most likely watching now, as Link and his royal guards battle the opposing force of dragons and this mysterious black foe. If they were defeated…

With a great war cry, Link leapt at his opponent, sword ringing magnificently and glimmering in the winter light that streamed through the high windows. The black knight's eyes grew wide, and he barely dodged backward as the Master Sword rang against the stone floor. In a flash, it swung again, and glanced off the breastplate of black armor. Then, the point drove toward the fiend's chest.

"STOP!"

Link froze upon seeing the knight gesture backward, at a pair of weapon-less dragons standing between the splintered doors. They held a limp form between them, forearms clamped in their merciless claws. Blood covered his hands from chaffs from the iron manacles, as well as dripping from his crooked nose and swollen brow. His shirtless torso sported several diagonal welts over his thin chest, bleeding, and infected. His black hair hung disheveled and mangled in front of his blue eyes. Despite his mauled appearance, the figure was all too familiar.

"Caine…" The name wrenched itself from his throat in a hoarse whisper.

If Link had thought he had felt helpless… Caine was the word personified. There was no life in his stance. His limbs hung limp at his sides, weighted by those wretched iron chains. And his face… No emotion whatsoever. No hope, no hate, no bitterness… Only pain. And nothing but.

"Yes – you know this face?" The black knight chortled, swinging his sword casually and prodding Caine in the jaw with its point. The young prince grimaced the slightest. "One more move, and he dies right here, right now."

Link ground his teeth together until it hurt. When the knight whirled, pointing his black blade toward him, the king fixed him with an intense blue gaze. The felon didn't flinch; in fact, he returned the glare, and his azure eyes suddenly struck Link as familiar. Why? He couldn't say.

"I have you in a corner, I believe you know quite well," continued the knight, letting his arm fall in a leisurely swipe. "Your kingdom has been beaten down. Not destroyed, mind you – no, I have special plans with it. Starting with you." He settled his gaze on Link as he moseyed closer, blade never stilling, always fidgeting. "You have something I want."

"What more could you take?" Link scowled, fingers gripping the Master Sword's hilt so tightly, his knuckles popped. "You've taken the kingdom bit by bit until there was nothing left."

"Correct."

"You've murdered countless innocents, all across the country!"

"Two for two."

"And now you've taken our capitol city, our center of power."

The knight smirked. "Which puts you in quite the bind, doesn't it?"

"Villain! Don't you care that you've left hundreds of women without their husbands, or children without fathers, or parents altogether, in your wake? You've beat down innocents ruthlessly, shedding their blood and leaving their corpses to rot! People, good people, who did nothing to you!"

"Ah!" Link ducked as the knight swiped at his head. "That is where you would be wrong."

"Thalion!"

Both men turned to the hallway to the back of the great hall, where the Council looked to be attempting to sneak into the tunnels. Most were crouched in their stealth, and now froze like trapped rabbits. It was obvious who spoke – Thoron stood apart from the others, grizzled face twisted in a frown.

Thalion, whom Link guessed to be the black knight, sneered at the old chancellor. "Well, well, if it isn't Tinder Thoron – still alive, old friend? You were already ancient last we met; does that make you prehistoric?"

Thoron scowled, beard ruffling with the motion. "How dare you intrude on Hyrule's peace! You bring shame to your family name!"

"Oh, my family name was already shrouded in scandals and mystery; I figured I'd simply meet the standard."

"The people trusted you."

"A lesson learned to be careful in whom you place your trust. And whom you betray."

The chancellor growled in frustration. Personally, Link was glad for the distraction. It gave him time to analyze his foe's posture, poise, moves, in order to predict how and when he would attack. He had backed away as Thalion eased ever closer to the old man.

"You betrayed us!"

"Wrong!" Thalion's expression blazed with anger. "You fools betrayed me! The crown was rightfully mine, and I deserved it! You all knew that! But you gave it to dear Cousin Aran instead. Simply because he was of closer blood to the king. He was a fool, and no one but I could see it!"

"Aran lacked your temper, Thalion," Thoron said evenly. By now, the entire skirmish had come to a screeching halt, soldiers from both sides watching the tension unfold as the black knight drew steadily closer to the chancellor. "He was a just man of pure heart – something you needed desperately, particularly in your… social dealings."

"What I did in my private life was of no consequence to the inheritance of the throne! I had a right to it, more so than my cousin did – I had the siding of the people."

"And you think you still have it, Lord Faroth?" Thoron's harsh words stopped the knight cold. "Do you think that a people, whose friends and families you've murdered in cold-blooded vengeance, will support you now?"

Thalion gritted his teeth, sword twitching in his grasp. "I have the throne at my disposal! I do not need your approval, nor anyone else's any longer! I will take what is rightfully mine."

The knight whirled about, eyes fiery, and the black blade swooped down at Link. He stumbled backward at the suddenness of it, and nearly lost his footing. But Thalion leapt over him, darting to his dragons and jabbing the point of his sword at Caine's throat.

"No!" The word flew from Link's mouth before he could stop it. He realized he was on his feet, rigid and tense.

"Ah, but this foolish boy belongs to me," oozed Thalion with a sadistic grin. "He swore his loyalty to me when he joined my army. I have the right to do with him whatsoever I please. Therefore…" He pushed harder on the blade, and a line of blood streaked down the young prince's chest. "If I say his life is forfeit, then it is forfeit!"

"Take me in his stead," said Link, his voice even, though he had surprised himself in speaking so quickly. It came so easily, that offer. There had been no extra thought required.

Caine's eyes widened. "L… Dat…"

Dat? …It's been years since he's called me that… "Take me, Thalion. Let him go."

The knight's grin widened, and he slowly withdrew his sword. Without turning to his followers, he gestured down the hall. "Release the child."

With motions about as gentle as a bomb, the dragons jerked off the chains, and thrust Caine forward. The bleeding prince stumbled forward, and collapsed onto the marble floor. Link caught a glimpse of bleeding whip marks on his back and, with a scowl, approached him.

He felt the point of a blade at the back of his neck, and froze.

"Ah, ah, Majesty," said Thalion mockingly from behind him. Link didn't look back. "You're mine now. And we have a lot of work to do."

The black blade flashed once more. Pain exploded in Link's head, and he dropped forward to his knees as darkness botched his vision. Stars wheeled, and he felt himself fall forward.

Just as consciousness faded, he thought he heard Zelda's sweet voice… tainted with agony as she screamed his name.