Challenge: Can you name all the unnamed canon characters in this chapter?


Chapter 1

Breakfast at the orphanage was always a lively affair, but today it threatened to be particularly overwhelming. Not only had they received a visit from a real live princess just the day before, but there was a picnic scheduled for the afternoon. It would be their last one before school began once more, and the room itself seemed to squirm in excitement.

But as children around him chattered about the coming events, Link just stared down into his murky bowl of oatmeal. He had completely missed Princess Zelda's visit because of his job, and these picnics never ended well for him. He tried his best to feel happy for the remaining orphans, he really did. Each time their obnoxious screaming assaulted his ears, he tried to tell himself it was 'vivacious' instead. He tried to pretend he was like Miss Rebecca, who always had a rosy smile for everyone, no matter how badly they misbehaved. But in the end, nearly everyone he had been friends with had long since been adopted, and what remained was a cluster of boys and girls slightly older than half his age at best.

The one exception to this was Fado. She had been at the orphanage nearly as long as Link, yet somehow she never let that depress her. She skipped more often than she walked, and sang quite frequently. Somewhat too frequently given her complete lack of talent, but it was song regardless.

Said girl had just approached the table, her breakfast tray laden with a plethora of fruits and a bottle of chocolate milk, and sat down across from him.

"'Morning, Link! Ready for the picnic?" she said, beaming. Somehow, the pair of neon blue sunglasses resting atop her head made her wide smile seem even more ridiculous. They weren't even going to leave for a few more hours.

"Yep," he told her. "Picked up a book from the library on the way home yesterday."

"Oh no. This is the last picnic before school. You can't spend it reading a stupid book under a stupid tree."

Link opened his mouth to reply, but she raised a finger and violently shushed him from across the table.

"You are going to have fun. I am going to make you, and that's that," she said, crossing her arms. Her face squished into a stern glare, but her eyes shone with concealed laughter.

"As you command," Link said, and she collapsed into a fit of giggling. "But no families."

"Don't worry Link," Fado returned. "There's plenty to do on picnics without families or books."

In reality, these picnics they had were little more than excuses to showcase the orphans to families interested in adoption. This was the real reason why he couldn't look forward to the outing like the others did. He used to love playing the games the strange adults provided: kickball, scavenger hunts, or even just card games when the weather turned cold. But as friend after friend found themselves a new home, his hope faded. Even that brat Mido had found some widowed teacher to take him in. Meanwhile, no one seemed to even notice Link.

Rather than join the activities and get his hopes crushed yet again, of late he had taken to sitting apart with his homework, or just a book during the summer. He would even pick up an extra shift at Cuccos and Coffee, when Miss Rebecca allowed it.

"Oh, stop looking like that. This is going to be awesome, you'll see." As she went off listing all the things that might occupy their time ("We could pick dandelions!"), Link finished the rest of his breakfast in silence. That was one of the good things about being friends with Fado: you never really had to talk much.

The oatmeal was far less watery than the thin brothy substance they usually got. There was even a bowl of brown sugar and all sorts of blueberries and strawberries to ornament it with. Leftovers from the Princess's visit, no doubt. Brandon, one of his roommates, had said they had even had pancakes as large as plates. Those all appeared to be gone, however, and Link was sure the improved oatmeal would follow close behind.

Once they all finished eating and had scrubbed the tables clean, there was little else to do before the bus left at ten. Most began to play, stepping outside for a game of tag or clustering around the television in the corner of the larger dining room to watch the morning cartoons. Link told Fado he'd see her at the picnic and returned to his room, and to his bed.

He had not slept the night through since July, perhaps June. The dreams had not yet begun then. At first, it was just a bolt of terror, striking him from his slumber. As the nights passed, a scowling face began to take form, a face with burning eyes. Red eyes. Eyes that knew him, eyes that consumed him. They stared him down, bending him under their fury, until finally he woke up, back in the room he had slept in his whole life.

At one point he had grown too frightened to sleep. Once his three roommates had begun their gentle snores, he would creep down from his bed, fighting off sleep. But exhaustion had soon consumed him. The second time he had awoken on the floor with a stiff neck and a numb arm, he resigned himself to the terror of sleep. He had dreamed no less when he slept on the floor anyway.

He kicked off his shoes and crawled beneath his covers, which were still damp from his sweat. The sheets became rank very quickly now, but he saw no way to clean them more often than once a week without rousing suspicion. If Mr. Timmons found out he'd been having chronic nightmares, he might put him somewhere else. Somewhere worse. He had heard stories of those who could not handle the loss of their parents and been sent to the asylum. He knew better than to believe everything they said, of course, but the thought still unnerved him. Besides, he could still think well enough. It was sleeping that was the problem.

He set his alarm for 9:30. It was only an hour away, but that suited Link best. He had done some research at the library and found that dreams usually didn't happen until after ninety minutes of sleep. Trying to time his sleep so that he was never asleep for more than ninety minutes at a time had been another failed experiment. He couldn't bring himself to keep it up regularly, but a nice short nap with the morning sun warming his bed would be refreshing. Link closed his eyes and dozed.

As it turned out, Link got not one, but two naps before the picnic. Bus rides were another good source of dreamless slumber, once Fado's chatter blurred into a background of white noise.

"You're so lazy," she said, shaking him awake at their destination. "I bet you'd even sleep through your own birthday, if Miss Rebecca let you."

They followed the crowd out of the bus. It was parked before a large expanse of grass. Here and there, large gnarled oaks stood tall, the promise of cool shade beneath their great boughs.

Already some orphans were running down the dirt path that led to a wide pavilion where the latest group of strange adults waited with their food and their toys. Past the pavilion, the path wandered on, twisting lazily until it led into a grove of trees.

"Go play!" Miss Rebecca called over the bustle. "Lunch will be ready soon enough."

It did not take long for for a balding man with an broad chest and a voice like a charging bull to organize a game of kickball with some of the boys. Meanwhile, a plain-faced young woman with two neat pigtails brought out some dolls, and a tall, man with long black hair and weathered leathery skin began a four-way game of catch.

Fado grabbed his hand and tugged him away from the various games, under the shade of one of the trees.

"Wait there, this is gonna be awesome," she said, scampering off.

Link sighed and steeled himself for whatever game of pretend Fado had planned. At least, that was what he thought she had planned. There was little else to do without involving the visiting families. The only toys there were what the visitors brought, probably to encourage the children to interact and bond with them. There were hiking trails in Lanayru park, but leaving the immediate grassy area would require adult supervision.

She soon returned, followed by two small girls. Michelle and Sandra, he thought they were called. A few years ago he had known the name of everyone in the orphanage. So many had come and gone since then, he was now hardly ever sure of anything.

"Why do I have a bad feeling about this?" Link asked.

"You always say that," Fado pouted. "This'll be fun; we're playing house! You're the hard-working husband, just home from a day at the office. I'm your loyal wife, and Michelle and Sarah are our children."

Oh, Sarah. That was her name. As similar as they looked, Sarah and Michelle could very well have been sisters. Slightly taller than Link's leg, they both wore their brown hair in ponytails and giggled incessantly. They even wore matching purple sundresses.

"So, house. Alright then. What do I do?" Link said. It sounded a lot like the hero games he used to play with Pipit, except without the monsters, or swords, or anything else that made hero games exciting.

"Well, you're tired from another hard day at work. Why don't you go sit down in your favorite chair, take off your shoes and relax," Fado said, pointing at the tree. Complying, Link sat down against it with a sigh. He took off his shoes and socks and let the grass tickle his feet.

"How was your day, honey?" Fado said, giving him a sweet smile that appeared horribly out of place on the young troublemaker.

"Er… it was hard. Really hard," Link said, floundering for a suitable answer. "I'm beat, yeah. Lots of paperwork, you know?"

"Story, daddy!" Michelle said.

"Yeah, daddy, story! Please?" Sarah echoed.

The two bounded up to him, grabbing him by each arm. They stared up at him with their little green eyes as they continued to shout story, until Link had no choice but to consent.

"All right, all right, just calm down and I'll tell you a story," he said.

He waited to begin until they had settled down. Both chose to snuggle tight against him, rendering his arms immobile. Link didn't complain. It was better than being rejected by yet another family.

"This is a tale of the Hero, whose name is forgotten," he said, beginning with the traditional opening. "He has been called many things: Hero of Time, Hero of the Winds, Chosen of the Goddess. Today he is called The Wanderer."

'Wanderer.' The word surprised him. He had never heard any tales of a Wanderer Hero before, and he was certainly not going to make up something new on the spot. But the name flowed out of him before he could think about it, and before he could stop himself he continued the story.

Now the Wanderer was on a great journey, for he had grown restless in his home country. Many foreign lands he saw, and islands hidden in the Great Sea as well. From the fairies, he learned much of magic, and with the knights of Celathim did he refine his skill with the sword.

But the time had come to return home, for there was a great foreboding in his heart that spoke of yet another threat. So the Wanderer found himself a ship and turned back to his land of Hyrule.

As the ship sailed homeward, it came across a great storm. The sea roared, the thunder cracked, and despite the Wanderer's best efforts the ship broke apart in the fury of the sea.

The Wanderer grabbed hold of a spar of wood. He held tight as the sea buffeted him, but alas, the storm was too great, and he was thrown from the spar.

How he survived he could not say. The next thing he remembered was his awakening. A feather bed in a warm cottage, a fair maiden tending to his wounds. Her eyes were the deep blue of the ocean, and her red hair the flame of the sun.

As the Wanderer's body grew stronger under the care of the Maiden, so did his love for her. He saw in her the joy of adventure, the spark of life almost extinguished in Hyrule under the power of the Great Enemy. And as he mended, and took to his feet once more, his heart grew heavy, for he knew that the day would soon come when he would leave her.

"I have a duty, my love, and I must needs return to Hyrule," he told her.

"That is impossible; for I tell you true: no man may leave this isle while the Wind Fish sleeps," the Maiden answered.

And so, when he regained the use of his sword, the Wanderer set out on a quest to wake the Wind Fish. He fought his way across marshes and plains, over mountains and through forests, collecting the instruments which were said to hold the power to wake the Wind Fish. The monsters of the island fell to his blade. They learned to fear the name of the Wanderer and cower at his approach. He soon had many instruments, and it seemed that the end of his quest drew near.

But one day, he came upon a shrine, hidden in lands where no man had dared to tread in centuries. It was protected by a dark magic, and guardians of living stone that sought to bar his passage, but the Wanderer entered nonetheless.

The shrine contained but a single tablet. "Human, Monster, Sea, Sky: A scene on the lid of a sleeper's eye. Awake the dreamer, and all will vanish as a bubble on a needle," it read. When the Wanderer saw those words, he knew it in his heart to be true.

He gnashed his teeth and cursed the heavens, but the words remained unchanged. Even so, he would not be swayed from his quest, for he had sworn a vow, and he would challenge even the Goddesses to uphold it.

At last he stood before the slumbering Wind Fish, seven instruments of the Sirens in hand. But before he could finish his quest, a fell wind blew through the room, and the torches fluttered out, and a shadow formed.

It attacked the Wanderer with all its strength, lashing out with a dark force that drove him ever backward. But the Wanderer was undeterred. He kept his eyes upon his foe, and when the chance arose his sword pierced into the heart of the darkness.

The shadow let out a great scream that shook the walls. It altered its form into that of a great snake; and when the Wanderer defeated that too, the shadow did reach into the deepest darkness and draw forth the form of the enemy: the one called Ganon, the Great Usurper, the Scourge from the Desert, the King of Evil.

For days the battle raged, the Wanderer and the shadow of his eternal enemy locked together before the Wind Fish. As the Wanderer grew weary, and his blade began to falter, he saw once more the sweetness of his home, and the forests and rivers and people that inhabited it; and he knew that he would never allow himself to fall.

"You cannot hold me back, you beast, you shade of a fallen monster. I shall be Hyrule's Shield so long as those such as you seek to defile it; yea, even unto the end of time," he cried, and cleft the enemy's great sword from his own hands.

"Strike me down if you will, but know first what you will lose." So saying, the shadow took on one last form, and the Wanderer fell to knees before the Maiden who had stolen his heart.

"Stay with me, my love. Show me the secrets of the island. Be happy, my love, and set yourself free."

"Yes, I shall be free, but not happy. I could never again be happy in a world without you."

With tears staining his face, the Wanderer lifted his sword and plunged it deep into her stomach. As her life fled from her, she opened her heart and poured forth one last song. She filled the dark room with the only beauty it would ever know. At the sound of her voice, the seven instruments raised up, and themselves began to play along with her.

The world faded, and the Maiden along with it. But though her voice was gone, the song remained, echoing through the nothingness that now pervaded the Wanderer's mind. Though it lasted an eternity, it ended far too soon; and with a heart heavy with regret for what might have been, the Wanderer opened his eyes to behold the shore of Hyrule.

He had at last returned home.

When the tale finished-where had that even come from?-no one moved. Sarah and Michelle still held onto his arms, the latter with her head pressed tight against his bicep. Before him Fado kneeled in the grass, eyes wide. There was someone else behind her, a man with purple hair. It was an odd color, but it seemed somehow to fit him. It added a warm softness to his thin, pale face.

"Well, this looks like a young man in need of rescuing if I ever saw one," he said, walking forward. "Link, isn't it?" The man extended an arm.

Link gently shrugged off the children and rose to take it. "Yes, sir. But they really aren't a problem."

"Call me Kafei, please," the man said. "Are you sure this is the ideal way to spend a beautiful afternoon like this? I've been coerced into playing house a time or two myself."

There was something about the easy way the man presented himself that made Link want to like him. He was different from the other grown-ups Link had known. Kafei spoke without condescension, almost as if they were equals.

"How would you like to go for a little hike? I've never been out here before, and those woods look beautiful," Kafei said.

"Hold it, mister," cut in Fado. "You aren't taking him anywhere without me."

"Oh, is that so?" Kafei said, raising his eyebrows as he turned his head toward the girl.

"I would feel more comfortable with Fado along," Link admitted. He really should have just said no. Everything in him was screaming that this was a bad idea, that he would just be disappointed again, but he could not help hoping that this could be his big chance.

"Well, I suppose we'll have two beautiful children keeping us company today. I'll just go find my wife, and we can be off."

His wife, a rather plain red-haired woman perhaps half a head shorter than Kafei, was unwrapping food with Miss Rebecca, smiling meekly as the caretaker chattered away.

When Miss Rebecca learned that Kafei wished to take Link and Fado for a hike, she could not have been more thrilled.

"Now, you'll probably be out during lunch, so here are some sandwiches for you," she said, throwing some food into a small cloth bag for them. "You enjoy peanut butter, yes? Oh, what am I saying, of course you do. And you have enough water?"

"Several bottles full," Kafei responded, opening his brown knapsack. Miss Rebecca glanced in, then turned back to the food.

"Let's see, sandwiches, fruit… oh, have a cookie too. Mallara won't mind, I'm sure. Do remember to smile, Link. Everyone likes a happy boy."

"Yes ma'am," Link said, accepting the bag from her and slinging it over his shoulder. He turned to leave, but Miss Rebecca knelt in front of him and took him by the shoulders.

"You're okay with this, aren't you, Link?" she said in a low voice. "You'll be perfectly safe, of course. He's registered, and he even works at the castle. Perfectly upright gentleman, by all accounts. But if you're worried, even a little bit-"

"I'm fine, Miss Rebecca," he said. She tilted her head. "Really."

"Well, off you go then," she said. "I do hope this works out for you."

Their preparations complete, the small group walked off toward the trail through the forest. Rather, three of them walked; Fado skipped.

"Link, this is my wife Anju," Kafei said. "Anju, Link and…"

"Fado," she announced, jumping in front of all of them to perform an elaborate curtsey.

"A pleasure to meet you both," Anju said.

"So Link," Kafei said, as their path took them into the woods. "That was an interesting story you told back there. Where did you hear it?"

Link shrugged.

"I don't know. Miss Rebecca must've told it to us one day."

"Miss Rebecca never told that story," Fado said. "I would've remembered that. It's too sad."

"Whatever. It just came out when I started talking. It felt like the right thing to say," Link said.

"Well, whatever you did, you certainly managed to ensnare those girls back there," Kafei said. "If you aren't careful, they'll be demanding another game from you. Do you tell stories often?"

"Hey, who says you get to ask all the questions, huh?" Fado cut in. "What about you? What's your story, mister?"

"Well, you know our names. I'm an investigative accountant for the Treasury, Anju runs a hotel. What else do you want to know?"

"Why would you want to adopt anyone?" Fado asked.

"Fado, isn't that a bit rude?" Link asked.

"Oh, that's okay," Kafei said with a laugh. "We don't have any secrets; we just wanted to do something nice for someone."

"You mean you aren't-" Link blurted, then clamped his mouth shut before he said too much.

"Not as far as we know," Anju said. "I was born into a family with a very popular hotel, and I was lucky enough to meet Kafei. And of course his father is the city custodian."

"We thought we should share our good fortune with someone who might not get our opportunities," Kafei finished.

The couple was remarkably easy to talk to. Anju was every bit as straightforward as her husband, if somewhat more reticent. Link soon found himself telling them all about his life in the orphanage, his job at the coffee shop, and his dreams for college. Fado, naturally, said twice as much about herself, while she wasn't helping Link tell stories about himself.

"After the third family, I guess I just sort of gave up," Link said as they paused to eat the sandwiches Miss Rebecca packed. "Decided to focus on school instead."

"Well, we're certainly glad you gave us a chance," Kafei said. "In fact, I think we could start the trial as early as Tuesday, if you want."

"Wait, what?" Link said.

"What?" Fado echoed, more shrilly.

The trial was a one-month test period where the orphan lived with his potential family before being legally adopted. Investigators would drop by on occasion to ensure everything was in order, but otherwise it was just as good as a real adoption. Very few orphans who started the trial ever returned to the orphanage; not even Mido.

"What about me?" Fado pleaded. "You can't just take him."

"I'm sorry. We can only afford one," Anju said.

Her gaze turned from Anju and Kafei to Link. He lowered his eyes and picked at the grass. From the corner of his eye, he saw the adults withdraw a respectful distance.

"Link, tell them you can't. Tell them you're happier here. You can't just leave, you can't."

Her voice trembled as she spoke, and when he looked up, there were tears welling in her eyes.

"Fado, this could be my last chance." He placed a hand on her shoulder, and she began sobbing. "No one else even wants to talk to me. I could have a family. Besides, I bet I could visit you sometimes. Maybe on one of the picnics over break."

She launched herself at him, enveloping him in a giant hug. He froze; no one had ever done that to him before.

"But we're best friends," she said.

Link wrapped his arms around her back, pulling the sobbing girl close. He didn't know what to say, so he rubbed her back like he'd seen an anxious mother do on TV once.

"I guess you can go, if you really want to," she whispered, once the crying stopped.

"We'll still be friends, you'll see," he assured her.

"That's what they all say," Fado muttered.

She was not wrong. They had both seen enough adoptions to know the truth of that.

"Well, shall we head back and start the paperwork?" Kafei suggested.

As much as it hurt to do so, Link nodded.

He was going to have a family at last.


A note on characters: I will keep all characters in this story relatively close to their originals. Meaning, you won't be seeing Zelda and Hilda in the same high school, there won't be an evil-vice-principal Ganondrof, etc. You did almost get a sexy-math-teacher!Nabooru though. That would've been awesome.

I have a very good reason for using Fado instead of Saria here.