Oh my. It's been a month since I last updated! Sorry guys. I am trash. :c

Anyways, thank you for everyone who has given this story a chance. My grammar's actually atrocious. Those of you who stick it out and read through my lengthy, poorly-written paragraphs deserve a prize. Seriously. Y'all are too great.

Disclaimer: Do I even need this? I own nothing.

Chapter 3: Here Comes Trouble

Sunlight streamed in through her curtains, landing in warm, delicate beams across her bed. A lawnmower hummed outside her window, along with the sound of the cars that rushed by the apartment building as people made their way towards wherever they needed to be on a Thursday morning. It was all very peaceful; Zelda wanted nothing more than to fall back into her pillow, squeeze her eyes shut, and bury her head under her duvet. But she forced herself to sit up from her nest of blankets.

If she was up, she might as well be up.

She stifled a yawn as she rolled herself out of bed, pausing a moment to crack her back before shuffling towards the kitchen. Her eyes felt gritty with sleep, and Zelda absently rubbed them with the back of her hand as she made herself a cup of coffee.

Ingo had been mad at her for three days. Well, at least she thought he had been mad at her – he hadn't said a word to her since their meeting. He did, however, nearly double the amount of cases she had to look over without any sort of warning. It didn't bother her too much. She preferred the extra work over another one of his rants, but it also meant going overtime more often. Needless to say, her sleep schedule suffered greatly because of it.

Zelda sat at one of the kitchen stools with her mug cradled in her hands, tracing the rim with a finger as it cooled. When she was younger, she had always insisted that she wasn't going to be a coffee drinker. She never wanted to be an adult, and in her 10 year old mind, drinking coffee meant you weren't a kid anymore. Now, Zelda needed nearly two cups before she was even functional.

Malon padded into the kitchen a few minutes later, blindly reaching into the cupboards for a mug of her own. Her auburn hair had a large cow-lick on the back of her head. Zelda looked at the faded Castle Town High t-shirt her roommate was wearing. The blue words, "Home of the Knights!" were starting to peel off the front.

She plopped herself next to Zelda, stifling a yawn. "I didn't hear you come home last night."

Zelda blew on her coffee. "I got off late."

Malon nodded groggily, as if understanding.

She took a sip, relishing the taste of the rich, oily roast as it burned her tongue. Malon's father had sent them a small tin of coffee after he went on vacation to Death Mountain, telling them that it was from a little shop near the base of the city. Zelda liked the tin a lot, with its bright red color, and the coffee even more so. It had a fiery (no pun intended) kick to it that no other coffee brand could manage. She told Malon to ask her doting father to send them another one before they ran out. She was sure that if roommate asked, a sparkling ruby tin would be on their doorstep the next day with a box of warm quilts from the ranch next to it. Her father was like that - always willing to send extra.

Malon rubbed her back absently, frowning. She must've fallen asleep on the couch again. "Work today?"

Zelda put her cup on the counter, dropping her head to her lap with a defeated groan. "My shift starts at 4, and I go 'till 9. Maybe later. I might go overtime again today."

Malon slapped a hand on her shoulder, patting her back as she takes a sip of her coffee. "Ah. That's my little worker bee."

"I wouldn't have to work so much if you didn't waste all our money," Zelda pointed out, her voice scratchy with grogginess. "Maybe you should get a job, too."

Malon pulled her hand back, shrugging. They've had this argument numerous times since they moved in together, but Malon kept her unemployed status anyways. "Poverty makes us humble."

The blonde gave her a sideways glance. "It also increases our chances of living on the street."

"Would being homeless be that bad?"

"Yes. You love air conditioning too much, and I don't think that I have the upper arm strength to push around a shopping cart all day," Zelda said.

Malon nodded again, this time in bemused agreement. "How you got through boot camp is beyond me."

Zelda leaned back in her chair sleepily, pointing two L-shaped hands at the redhead as she pretends to shoot her. "You don't need muscle when you've got THESE guns."

Malon snickered as Zelda blew on the tip of her forefingers and pretends to put them back in their holster in a gunslinger fashion.

"Goddesses, you are such a nerd," she sighed. Malon patted her roommate's knee before she slid off her seat to put her empty mug in the sink. The redhead yawned again, glancing at the neon clock on the microwave before turning on the faucet. "You best get to class, Zellie. It's almost 8."

Zelda glanced to her open bedroom. She can see her comforter on the floor, along with the grey sweater and black jeans she was going to wear beside it next to the dresser. Her eyes are drawn to her nightstand, where they linger on the bottom drawer, and it takes her a moment before she returns back to her cup.

She slipped out of the chair, cradling her finished mug as she pads towards the sink. Malon took her cup before Zelda turned away to make her way to her room to get ready.

"Oh, and I think Ilia and the gang said something about coming over tomorrow," Malon said, her voice carrying over the sound of dishes clinking as she rinsed them.

"You mean our posse?" Zelda called from her bedroom. Her voice isn't loud, but Malon hears her.

"That's right, Sheriff. Karane and Midna wanted to go out, but Ilia said she'd make dinner."

Zelda grins to herself, her mouth watering slightly from the thought of their friend's cooking as she throws her duvet back onto the bed. "Do you think I'm more of a Jesse James or a Belle Star kind of gal?"

She can practically hear Malon shake her head as she sighed loudly. "I never should have let you watch those old Western movies the last time we visited my dad."

"Aw, come on. It really helped set the mood for the ranch."

"If you're making fun of my dad's décor, you best remember who helps pay for our rent."

Zelda made a mental note to send her dad a thank you card; their bills were mysteriously paid off yesterday. She always felt guilty when Talon helped them out with their money problems, and she wanted to prove that she could take care of them without him. "And you best remember to tell him he doesn't need to do that for us. I make enough."

"Don't complain about my shopping if you make enough," Malon sings.

Zelda groaned loudly, more out of annoyance that Malon was right than because of a bad mood. She blows a chunk of hair out of her face as steps into to the dimly lit bathroom that connected her and Malon's rooms together to wash her face. After she wipes away the water, she swipes on a few coats of mascara and dabs the whitest shade of concealer MaloMart had under her eyes. Zelda put a few spritzes of Malon's detangling spray onto her head, and combed out her nightmarish hair until it fell down her shoulders in long, golden tresses. While she had somehow managed to save her hair from looking like a blonde nest, she didn't know how to help the rest of her. She shrugs as she exits, and closes the door behind her so that Malon can shower.

It's not like I'm trying to impress anybody, she reasons.

The blonde gets dressed quickly, and she found herself staring at her nightstand again as she looped on a belt. Zelda glanced at the bathroom door and waited until she can hear her roommate turn on the shower.

Zelda squatted down and carefully slid the drawer open. The handkerchief from the man in green is under a stack of papers, hidden from her nosy roommate. She gingerly tugged it out from its hiding place, and examined it in the morning light. The deep emerald tint of the handkerchief shines in the sun, and Zelda can see a small dark stain that she morbidly assumes is the dried remains of her blood. It had been nearly five days since that night, and she still hasn't washed it. But then again, why would she? She didn't think he was coming back for it. The only one who said he'd see her again was the other guy.

She looked around her room at the memory of the words whispered into her ear.

Zelda stood up, holding the cloth in her hand. Her necklace jingled in response.

She doesn't think anything of it as she slips the piece of silk into her back pocket as she exits her room, grabbing her coat and jacket on the way out, calling a "See ya, Mal!" over her shoulder.

xoooOOOoooOOOooox

Try as she may, Zelda couldn't focus on a single word of professor Garrickson's speech. He was passionate about anything that he spoke about, and oftentimes he made it easy for her to be drawn into his words. He made her want to learn. But today, Zelda felt no such pull on her mind to find the will to absorb anything that he was saying.

Speaking of which, what was he saying?

Zelda rubbed her eyes, Forty-five minutes into her Hylian Classics course, a mousy girl in the front row interrupted Garrickson's lesson on transportation on Windfall Island. Her voice was small as she asked him what the dates were for the creation for the shipbuilding industry on the island began, but as soon as she said the word "dates", their professor launched into a rant about his love life.

Or lack thereof.

"Kids today just don't understand the value of creating a deep, meaningful relationship with one another. But then again, neither did Luanne, my first girlfriend."

Zelda sighed. She had hoped that today's lecture would be more interesting. Not to say that the woes of the ever-single professor weren't made for a bad soap opera, but Zelda always left those to her redheaded roommate to enjoy.

Zelda could practically feel her brain cells commit suicide so they wouldn't have to hear anything as Garrickson launched into a sub-branch of his rant, now filling the lecture hall with "reasons why you should never trust a blonde with brown eyes."

Her eyelids felt like somebody had put two little weights on them. She was starting to regret waking up early that morning. Maybe that extra 15 minutes of sleep wouldn't have made the wooden surface of her desk seem so enticing.

Zelda put her head down, nestling her nose against her sleeve with a content sigh. She would never get away with sleeping in professor Gorman's class. He could smell disappointment and a lack of motivation from a mile away. But Garrickson had no such talent. A few minutes wouldn't be too bad, right? Just a quick nap…

Something bounced off the side of her desk, but Zelda ignored it. Her eyes were too heavy. She didn't want to open them up just yet. Two more things bounced harmlessly off her desk, but it was the third time that something actually hit her, jarring her awake.

Blinking, Zelda slapped a hand behind her head and found a pencil tangled in her hair. She begrudgingly pulled it out and turned around, searching for the culprit.

She found him – his arm hovering in the air to throw another mechanical pencil at her head –and shot him and his snickering friends a glare.

Zelda aimed the pencil at the brunette's head, and threw it. She turned back in her seat before she could see if she had hit her mark, but judging by the chorus of laughs behind her, the pencil had done its job.

Feeling irritated, Zelda focused her eyes ahead and glared at the board. So much for a quick nap.

Of course Brian and his lackeys had to ruin it for her. She should have known it was him. Ever since she refused to give him her notes on the day before the final last semester, he had a personal vendetta against her. She wished she had kept the pencil, though. Her own was almost out of lead.

Zelda tried to focus on the rest of the lecture, but she found herself practicing her "y's" for the remaining 15 minutes of class.

She stood up, gathering her books together. She could feel the sweet freedom of leaving professor Garrickson behind as she raced out of the room.

She breathed a sigh of relief as she tucked her books back into her bag. As she did so, her phone dropped out of its designated pocket and clattered to the floor.

"I swear to Nayru if you're cracked…" she muttered dangerously as she bent down. She flipped the clunky old thing in her hands, relieved to find the glass screen void of any missing chunks of glass. But then again, if it had cracked, she'd finally be able to replace it with something that didn't remind her of the flip phone she had in middle school.

She pulled herself back up, sweeping her bangs behind her ears as she wandered towards the clock a few feet away. If she went to her lecture hall now, she'd probably be first. She really didn't feel like sitting in silence with only her professor. Nobody liked that. But maybe she could slink in through a side door and quietly find a seat without professor Medli noticing. Or maybe she could go into the bathroom and try to find a way to pin that one chunk of hair behind her ear, or maybe-

"Oi, Harkinian. Looks like you dropped something."

Zelda whipped around, immediately locking onto the malicious smirk of his lackeys to the small, dark cloth that Brian dangled between his fingers.

Her eyes widened. The handkerchief! It must have slipped out of her pocket somehow when she went to pick up her phone. She had even forgotten that it was there in the first place.

Zelda frowned: "Give it back."

Brian waved the handkerchief in the air. "What even is this? Some kind of napkin?"

"It's a handkerchief, dumbass. Now give it back." Zelda hadn't meant to call him a dumbass, but it didn't come out too bad when she said it. Midna's ability to insult someone right off the bat was starting to rub off on her.

Brian's eyes narrowed. His two subordinates gave each other a look of anticipation. "And why should I, itty bitty Harkinian?" he hissed.

"Because it's mine and it's important."

Brian's eyes suddenly lit up. Crap. She shouldn't have said that. Saying it was important was like painting a bright red X on the damn thing.

"If it's so important, why don't you come and get it from me," he grinned. He waved the little piece of cloth in front of her like a matador.

Zelda's frown deepened. "What are you, 5? I'm not going to chase you for it. You have Thing 1 and Thing 2 with you to follow you around already. Just give it back."

This made them mad, and she regretted saying anything in the first place. She should have just let him keep the damned thing. But she felt protective of it; it was given to her, so therefore it was hers.

Brian and his lackeys stalked over to her, each with a menacing glint in their eyes. She kept her chin up; she wasn't going to let a few angry 19 year olds bully her. She suffered enough abuse from her boss. She could handle a lanky leader and his two large friends easily.

The three boxed her in, with two on each side of her and Brian himself standing before her. He bobbed the cloth over her head. "If you want it so badly, just take it," he growled.

Feeling more than irritated, Zelda's hand shot up into the air and grabbed the stupid little thing before Brian had the chance to lift it out of reach. Standing at a measly 5 foot nothing, Zelda had dealt with her fair share of tall kids who used her vertically-challenged stature against her. She slipped the handkerchief back into her pocket before it could get her into any more trouble. She felt a trickle of satisfaction as Brian and his friend's gaped at her in surprise, but it dissipated as their shock was replaced with downright fury.

She made a move to turn around, but Brian grabbed her shoulder and jerked her back around.

"Now where do you think you're going, Harkinian? I don't know how you did that, but I'm not letting you get out of here so easily."

Zelda swatted his hand off her shoulder. "I'm going to be late." She said tightly.

She turned around again, but this time Brian's insubordinates had moved to block her path. What was this? Were the Goddesses trying to mess with her by giving her three classic bullies to deal with? If that was the case, it so wasn't funny.

Zelda flipped back around, ignoring that she had to be on her tip-toes to give willowy Brian a proper glare.

"Look, I've had enough of you, Harkinian. You're really starting to get on my nerves."

"You and me both, sister," Zelda muttered.

Brian took a menacing step forward, lifting his fist into the air. "I think it's time you learned your place."

Was he serious? He was going to hit her?

His friends closed in behind her, each grabbed one of her shoulders to keep her in place.

Zelda was never the athletic type, and she wasn't permitted to carry her pistol onto school grounds; the odds of her fighting her way out were slim to none. She debated on whether or not it was worth it to let him actually hit her, and whether or not she could actually worm her way out of Thing 1 and Thing 2's iron grip. If a lack of sleep made her look like she had a black eye, she couldn't bear to think about what an actual black eye would look like on her pasty skin.

Brian's fist was poised perfectly in the air, and Zelda braced for impact.

Just as he was about to crash his knuckles into her cheek, a voice rang out: "Didn't your parents ever tell you that it's not nice to hit a girl?"

Zelda opened her eyes, looking past Brian's rat-like face and skeleton fist at the flaxen-haired boy behind him.

The Goddesses were playing with her. She was sure of it; friggin' Link Fontaine.

The boy in question proceeded towards her party of 4 with his hands in his pockets. A small frown graced his faced, and Zelda prayed that no one around her could tell that her cheeks were rosier than they should have been.

Of course it was Link Fontaine. Of-friggin'-course.

She had entered the university that morning to find the whole place buzzing with rumors about the new guy. As she pushed through the thickets of people, Zelda soaked in everything she heard about the infamous Link Fontaine. They all seemed to support three main things; he got kicked out of three previous schools for fighting, he could get any girl he wanted, and his family life was something that should never be mentioned. She had yet to see him up close, thanks to the hoards of fans that created a wall around him every time he walked down the hallways, but she knew enough to make a picture of him. He was, after all, Malon's favorite topic of discussion. It would be insulting to her roommate if she didn't have a general idea of the new kid's looks.

Still, Zelda honestly couldn't understand what was so great about the new guy. From what she heard, she couldn't find any personality traits that would make him seem vaguely interesting. Sure, he was a pretty face, but what good was a stellar bone structure if what you have underneath it is crap?

As he walked up, Zelda fought herself from looking at his ripped jeans, black V-neck, and battered combat boots that practically screamed 'I'm that boy in books who skips class to smoke behind the school and can look hot doing it.' She looked at his perfectly messy hair, which instantly made her think he rolled out of some girl's bed that morning.

He was every bit as perfect as a university heartthrob should be, she decided. But she wasn't into that whole "on-purpose but not" sexy look. Or at least she thought she wasn't. Her cheeks were saying otherwise.

"What the hell do you want, Fontaine?" Brian challenged, dropping his fist.

Zelda felt a little impressed; only Brian had the stupidity to be unafraid of someone that had the reputation of being someone that you shouldn't mess with.

Link stopped a few feet away, crossing his arms. "I want to know why you thought it would be okay to use Harkinian here as a punching bag."

Brian's lackeys looked nervous. They had let go of her shoulders, and Zelda readjusted the straps of her bag.

Brian shrugged. "She was throwing things at me, so I thought I'd scare her a little. I would never actually her."

Zelda glared at him. "Oh shut up, you threw a pencil at me first-"

Link raised a brow at her, but turned his attention back to Brian and his gang. "Is that true?"

Brian blinked, looking around for an exit. "Well yeah, but-"

"I think you've done enough today, Lyznansky. I suggest you leave you before class starts. Unless you have any more innocent girls to terrorize today," he added, looking at Brian incriminatingly. "Do you? I wouldn't be surprised, what with your record."

To Zelda's surprise, Brian looked ashamed of himself. "Whatever, Fontaine," he mumbled angrily. "Come on guys. Let's get outta here. Itty bitty Harkinian's boring, anyways."

Brian and his two thugs stalked out of the hallway with their shoulders hunched, but not before Brian rammed his shoulder into Zelda's, sufficiently knocking her down.

She landed on her butt with a thud, bruising both her tailbone and her pride. "Well screw you too, asshole!" she shouted after him. She wasn't surprised to see Brian flipping her off as her disappeared behind a corner.

Fuming and embarrassed, Zelda moved to pick up her bag from the floor but found that it wasn't there. Her eyes flickered upwards. She felt a vague feeling of déjà vu when she saw Link's hand in front of her to help her up. She saw that he held her bag in the other.

Zelda chose to ignore his hand, opting to scramble to her feet on her own. She gingerly took her bag back from the boy in front of her and looped it over her shoulders.

"Uh, thanks," she said awkwardly. She tried not to appear like she was gawking at him, but it was hard not to. He had eyes that were so Windex blue that they didn't look real. They reminded her of sapphires.

Link shrugged. "Anytime, Harkinian. Just doing my job."

Zelda stared at him shrewdly, arching a brow. "Which is what? Saving damsels in distress?"

He chuckled. "Something like that."

"Wouldn't your fan club like to know," Zelda muttered. She hadn't meant for that to slip out. She really hoped he hadn't heard it.

Her hopes were dashed as Link smiled. "I'm sure they would. Who wouldn't want to hear about some good ol' fashioned chivalry?"

Zelda looked at him pointedly. "I don't know if publicly shaming a guy would necessarily be classified as 'chivalrous'."

He tilted his head – a gesture that she fought herself from describing it as 'cute'- and bent towards her. "Did you think it was chivalrous?"

Zelda looked down at his boots. She had to look anywhere but the playboy in front of her. "Honestly? No. You can get your point across without making someone feel bad about themselves. It's counterintuitive."

Link crossed his arms again, considering her. "Huh."

Zelda looked up, carefully ignoring his hypnotic gaze to see the amusement on his face. "Huh what?"

"I didn't expect you to be vouching for Lyznansky, especially after he almost beat you into a pulp."

"Yeah, well. It was never going to get that far," she said dryly.

"Is that so? Bit-sized Harkinian doesn't seem to pose much of a threat."

She didn't like being made fun of, especially not by the boy who could put Prince Charming to shame. "Well bit-sized Harkinian isn't some helpless little girl who is going to let herself be stepped all over by assholes like Brian. So don't think you did me any favors by helping me out back there."

"And if I asked for any favors?" he asked, giving her a slightly suggestive smile.

Zelda blinked in surprise. He wasn't flirting with her… was he?

She didn't think she was anything special. Not that she was hideous, or anything. But she knew there were plenty of other girls around campus who had her beat when it came to being pretty. The most she could be described with was "cute". She was small, standing at a wimpy 5-foot-nothing, with curves that could rival a 12 year old boy, and skin the color of White-Out. She didn't even want to talk about bra shopping; a 32 A-Cup simply does not exist in any other place but the little girl's section. Zelda didn't think that she warranted this kind of attention, especially not from someone like Link Fontaine. Plus, why would he even flirt with her? He had hoards of fan girls who would be a much easier lay than herself.

But then again, she thought as her gaze flickered to fine piece of Hylian in front of her, guys like him like a challenge.

"Just… don't tell anybody about this, okay?" she said before carefully sidestepping him before she had the chance to find out whether or not he was actually flirting with her.

She made it to her Ancient Hylian lecture early without even looking back.

xoooOOOoooOOOooox

As soon as she got home, Zelda dropped her bags and flopped onto the couch with a loud sigh. She kicked off her shoes, letting her feet be free of their black-booted prison after a long day of work and school.

After her run in with Link Fontaine, Zelda felt on edge the rest of the day. Not because she was afraid of seeing him again; she just didn't know what their meeting had meant. Zelda thought about it during her entire Ancient Hylian lecture. She decided that it was a chance meeting, and she'd probably, no, hopefully never have to deal with Link Fontaine's perfect face again.

She dreaded telling Malon. Her roommate would launch into an interrogation of sorts, and Zelda didn't want to hear anything more than the quiet hum of their dishwasher at the moment.

Zelda flipped onto her stomach and nestled her face into their shabby little couch. It was the first thing they had bought when they moved in to their apartment. The two had gone to nearly every furniture store in Castle Town, and Goselle's was the last place they went into as they needed furniture badly, and everywhere else was too expensive.

The two inquired about the deep green couch to the shopkeeper, a haughty lady named Goselle, who then insisted that the couch was an antique that was worth more than it actually looked. After arguing with her for nearly 20 minutes, Malon finally got frustrated and shoved a handful of rupees into the woman's hands, saying "if it's worth that much I better find a bloody diamond in cushion."

They never did find any diamonds in the cushions, but they did find a pretty jeweled clip that Malon liked to pin in her hair.

Zelda thought she heard her phone ring, so she reached into her back pocket for it. Her fingers touched something soft, and she remembered that it was the handkerchief, and not her phone. She hardly ever put her phone in her pocket, anyways. She didn't know why she had even bothered to check there when it was probably in her purse.

Zelda tugged the little piece of cloth out, bringing it to her face so she could look at it.

The dark spot from her blood was still visible, but it was only a few shades darker than the deep emerald satin of the handkerchief. She hadn't noticed it until now, but there was a set of initials on the bottom left corner.

The letter's M.O.F. were elegantly looped together in black letters. Zelda ran her fingertips over the initials with a frown.

"M.O.F…" she mutters. Were these the so-called Hero's initials? They must be, if they're on his handkerchief. But what could the letters stand for?

Matthew Octavius Fletcher? Martin Omar Fairway? Zelda tossed the handkerchief over the side of the couch. Well, whoever it was got her into trouble today. If it hadn't been for M.O.F., she wouldn't have been stopped by Brian Lyznansky and his gang, or Link Fontaine.

Zelda stood up from the couch, stretching her limbs like a cat. She remembered that she had originally been looking for her phone. Zelda wandered into the kitchen to where her purse was on the counter, searching its pockets until she found her clunky old phone.

Won't b home till late. Saria's car broke down

Zelda stared at the screen for a moment before she punched in a reply.

We told her the car was crap. Alright. Be safe

Zelda put her phone down and sighed. She could successfully avoid telling Malon about her meeting, at least until morning. The downside to this was that their apartment felt painfully lonely with only one person there. They weren't allowed to have any pets, and they weren't really friends with any of their neighbors. They got along well with Dampé, but he was only fun to talk to if you wanted to discuss Bingo or the proper burial technique.

Zelda decided to make herself a cup of tea, and maybe read for a little while until she went to bed. She pulled out a chipped mug from a cabinet, filled it with water, and put it in the microwave to warm up. Once the water was ready, Zelda dropped the tea bag into the mug and settled back into the couch where she was going to read her book for a little bit.

But, as soon as she down with her mug in her hands, Zelda felt extremely hot. Maybe it was the steaming tea, or the long-sleeved tee she was wearing. Or maybe it was the heating in the apartment. Either way, Zelda would rather be cold than be hot.

She got up and padded over to their fire escape, cracking the big window open to let in some air.

The night was cool, but not too cold. As soon as she had opened the window, a cool breeze filtered into the house and across Zelda's warm cheeks.

She opened the window an inch more before she settled back into the couch and opened her book.

As soon as she could, 4-year-old Zelda vowed to read every book that she could get her hands on. The bookcase in her room was filled with books, from fairy tales to textbooks to manuals. It didn't matter what it was; Zelda wanted to read it. She loved the smell of books, the way the paper felt between her fingers as she flipped the page, and she especially loved the sound books made when you cracked their spines.

She was reading a dog-eared copy of her favorite fairy tale, the same one that she had probably read a million times, holding her steeping mug of tea in her lap. She held her breath with fear as she read the part where the princess – simply referred to as "Princess" – gets whisked away to a tower by a jealous Lord who wants to keep her and her crown for himself.

The Princess is beautiful, as all princesses tend to be, which is why the Lord wants to marry her. But alas, he is not her true love. She's in love with one of the guards at the Castle, and she defiantly shoots down every one of the Lord's advances.

Zelda loved the book because it was a true story, but it was also a fairy tale. The Princess, the Lord, and the Hero really did exist, but there's magic and love in this story that isn't in the history books. In the book, the Lord is a wizard-slash-wannabe-king, who kidnaps the Princess in order to take her crown, and the Hero goes on a wonderful adventure where he fights against magic creatures just to rescue his true love.

In the history books, the Princess of Destiny doesn't fall in love. She either becomes Queen because of a forced marriage, or she dies as a single princess. The Hero of the God's is just the Captain of the Royal Guard, never anything more. There is no proof that the Hero and the Princess were a couple. And as for the Lord? Well, he's just another suitor who couldn't stand the rejection of the beautiful princess and decided that if he would rather die than live without her.

And there is no magic in the history books, either. There are no spells, no golden arrows, and certainly no Goddess-forged swords. That's probably why she loved the book so much. It tells the story with hope of love, and hope for adventure. And it tells a story of magic.

Zelda never made it to the part where the Hero rescues the Princess, because at some point, she fell asleep and was abruptly woken up by knocking on the door.

"What the-" Zelda squeaked, unceremoniously tumbling off the couch onto the floor. "Oh for Nayru's sake- hold on I'm coming!"

Zelda popped up of the floor and rubbed her eyes at a vain attempt at seeing the world through a clearer haze.

She stumbled towards the front door and looked out the peephole: nothing.

"What? But I thought I heard-"

Another knock, but over by the fire escape. Zelda froze.

Surely she must have misheard-

Knock.

Zelda sucked in a breath, looking at the clock. 11:47.

Knock.

Malon still wasn't home. Her jacket would have been on the coat rack. But that was good. She didn't want Malon to get hurt if something happened.

Zelda slunk into the kitchen as she tried to devise a plan of attack. She didn't want to use her pistol. It would scare the neighbors if she had to shoot it. She wandered over to their cutlery drawer, and pulled out the biggest steak knife she could find.

"There's nothing that makes you feel safer than holding a big ass knife," Zelda muttered. With her weapon in hand, she inched her way over to the fire escape. Her heart hammered in her chest; what if it was the man in black? What if he was finally here? What if-

"Boo."

Zelda screamed as she swiveled around, swinging her knife in front of her blindly.

"Woah, woah woah! Calm down!" the man in green said, grabbing her wrist as before she impaled him. "Hey! It's okay!"

Zelda's eyes widened to the size of saucers. "What the-?" She snatched her hand back, brandishing the steak knife in front of her. "Are you insane? What the hell are you doing here!"

The man in green held his hands up in surrender. "It's okay. Just calm down. I came back to get my handkerchief, that's all."

"Calm down? You want me to calm down? You just broke into my house!" she shrieked.

The man in green frowned. "I knocked first-"

"You knocked on the friggin' fire escape window. Why couldn't you use the front door like a regular person!"

"Poor lapse of judgment," he commented stiffly, staring at the knife in her hands.

"Isn't that the understatement of the century?" Zelda laughed dryly, dropping her weapon onto the counter loudly. She didn't think that the man in green had any malicious intentions. Still, she would keep her guard up.

The man in green let out a sigh of relief. "Hey, don't get sassy with me. No superhero comes in through the door. Have you ever heard of Dick Grayson ringing someone's doorbell?"

Zelda folded her arms across her chest. "I don't see you in a spandex suit, so I can't view you on the same pedestal as Nightwing."

The corner of the man's lips perked up in a smirk. "Would you prefer me in a skin-tight suit? I'd be happy to oblige," He said, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

"Douche." Zelda rolled her eyes, stomping out of the kitchen to where she knew she had dropped the handkerchief to the floor. She picked it up and thrust the damned thing in front of him. "Here's your stupid handkerchief. Can you please just take it and leave?"

The man plucked it from her fingertips and slipped it into his pocket. He observed her for a moment in the dull kitchen lights, leaning towards her. "You really don't like me, do you?"

"You broke into my house; of course I don't like you." Zelda grumbled, taking a step back. He was too close for her liking. "The door's over there if you want to use it this time Hero Boy."

"Call me Hunter."

Zelda arched a brow, unimpressed. "Is that your superhero name?"

Hunter shined his nails on his shoulder, even though he was wearing gloves. "Not too bad, if I do say so myself. Catchy, and memorable."

The blonde looked at him critically. The name was catchy, but she didn't quite see the connection between his name and what he stood for. Hunters wore all green, right? "I'm still going to call you Hero Boy," Zelda said dryly.

"I wouldn't have it any other way, Sheriff," he said, sending a flirtatious wink her way.

Zelda rolled her eyes. "Get outta here before I arrest you. Again." She added in the last part bitterly.

Hunter gave her a mock salute, pushing himself off her kitchen counter. He proceeded towards the fire escape window. "Until next time, dear Sheriff," he called, disappearing into the night.

Zelda waited in the kitchen until he left before she wandered over to the window to close it.

The city was dim with light, from glowing signs on the buildings to the flickering streetlights below. Few cars whizzed by, and the streets appeared empty. Above it all, the moon shone proudly, as if to say "look at my city, look at how beautiful it is."

She couldn't see where Hunter had gone. There was no sign that he had ever entered her apartment, either. He got his handkerchief back. Maybe she'd never see Hunter again.

Zelda heard a pair of keys drop onto the counter. "I'm home!"

The blonde gave the stars one last look at the stars, suddenly struck by a terrifying idea: if Hunter knew where she lived, then who else did?

A/N: So there you go. I'm not really sure if I like the way I wrote this, but oh well. It'll do for now. I'm also not too sure if I like Hunter as a hero name. But maybe it'll grow on me.

Anywaaaays, I hope you guys liked it! And if not, let me know what I can do better! :D

Also I added a little picture thing for the story. It's blue. Weird. I wonder why.

-callmeordinary

P.S. I don't own the picture either, and I give all rights to the artist. They did an amazing job and they deserve a ton of credit for it. Dear, woodland-mel on deviantart, you are a star.