CHAINS UPON A HEART

Kin awoke to the sound of Link's heartbeat against her ear. The sun assaulted her eyes with light as it began its slow climb into the sky. Around them, the fog had disappeared.

The fog. Kin shivered, haunted by the memory of the night before. A lamp held by an invisible hand. The voice of a young girl calling out from the darkness. She clutched at Link's tunic, fighting back panic.

"Mmph," the swordsman murmured, waking with a yawn. Suddenly conscious of where she was, Kin leapt to her feet with an embarrassed squeal. Her cheeks glowed crimson.

Sleeping in the same bed! Her eyes were wide with shock. I've never done...I shouldn't have...and with...what will he think? Half-considered 'whys' and 'what-ifs' frantically tumbled around her head.

"Morning," Link said groggily. Abruptly, his eyes shot open and his head whipped around. Staring around at the sunlit field, he calmed down, obviously relieved to find the fog had gone with the rising of the sun. "Goddesses," he breathed out, burying his head in his hands. Clearly last night had upset him as well.

Kin waited nervously for him to accuse her of stealing into his blankets.

After the apparition had disappeared, Kin had been too terrified to sleep. Quivering with fear, she eventually found herself huddled in Link's arms, desperately fighting back panic. Ultimately, she had drifted into an uneasy sleep, feeling protected within the swordsman's strong grasp. She closed her eyes, mortified.

"Damn if I've ever been so scared before in my entire life," Link muttered. Kin slowly opened her eyes and glanced over at him. "What was that thing?"

Does he not want to talk about it? "It felt like—like a..." she couldn't say it.

"A ghost," Link finished for her. He shivered visibly. "Navi, have you ever heard of something like that before?"

The fairy floated out from Link's cap. "Something like what?" she asked, chipper as ever.

"Whatever that was holding the light!" Link exclaimed. "Were you asleep?"

"I don't sleep," Navi replied, confused. "I didn't see anything all night."

An icy hand clenched Kin's heart. Didn't see... Together, Link and she shared a terrified glance. She saw his hand twitch toward his sword.

In the middle of camp, the fire had regressed to embers. Shaking off her dread, Kin nursed back into a small flame to cook their breakfast over. The bright sunlight was slowly pushing away the dark memories of the night before, but as they shared a quiet breakfast, Kin couldn't help but dwell uneasily on the bed they'd shared as well. She couldn't decide whether she was relieved or troubled that Link hadn't said anything. At the very least, she wished she knew what he was thinking.

After their meal of toasted flatbread and jam, the two adventurers prepared to start out in search of Valoo's 'brother beneath the waves.' Neither said anything, but they were both keen to find the guardian before they had to spend another night on the island.

"Alright Navi, we're counting on you," Link had said just before they set out. "Pay attention as we search. If you feel anything that might be the guardian, let us know."

With the little fairy searching for any sort of magical presence, Kin and Link's 'search' was really nothing but a lot of walking in an attempt to cover as much ground as possible. Link said something about it being like detecting metal on a beach, but she hadn't understood what he meant. He says the strangest things sometimes. The thought made her smile.

Together they walked miles of barren coastline, thinking that if the guardian was a fish, it would likely be in the water, but by the time they stopped for lunch, they hadn't had any luck.

"Nothing, huh?" Link asked Navi.

"Nope!" the fairy replied. Her perpetual good mood was starting to lift Kin and Link out of the gloom set in the night before.

"I'm sure we'll find something soon," Kin said, feeling optimistic.

They talked as they ate; a much different atmosphere over them than at breakfast.

"What's the princess like?" Kin asked, using the opportunity to voice a question that had itched within her for some time.

"Zelda?" Link replied, surprising Kin with the total informality he used to refer to their monarch. "Well..." the swordsman thought for a moment. "She's wise and fair. A strong woman; a strong ruler." He laughed. "And a royal pain in my ass."

Kin nearly choked on her lunch.

"Oh don't be so uptight," Link teased her. "Zelda's just a person like you or me. She isn't a goddess, and she isn't perfect." He sighed resignedly. "Though she does her best. She has a selfless heart underneath her cool exterior, but her people always come first. Above anyone. Especially above me." Link looked at Kin. "That's how it should be. I swore my life to the kingdom when I first arrived, but I don't think I knew what that meant. I needed time to grieve, time to learn about this new land, but Hyrule couldn't wait. Zelda did what she had to." He looked down, letting his curly blonde hair hide his eyes. "I think that it hurt her, using me in that way, but I didn't want to admit it. I wanted to hate her. I needed to hate her, and she let me." Link snorted. "Always has to do the right thing. For once, I'd like to see her be selfish, or greedy, or envious. Just to prove she's human like the rest of us." He grew quiet. "I think too that she holds a deep, secret desire for kinship, though she would never admit it. I couldn't be the friend she hoped I might be. Maybe, once this is all over, I can change that."

Kin was completely taken aback. She'd never imagined that ruling might be so...lonely. In her heart, she could feel the princess' pain – the secret longing. It resonated with the solitude she herself had known for so long.

"You'll understand when you meet her," Link said offhand. "She has an aura about her."

"Meet her?!" Kin yelped. "Meet Princess Zelda?"

Link laughed. "Of course. You thought she'd ignore you after all you've done to help me save both her life and the kingdom?" He raised an eyebrow at her. "You've at least earned, I don't know, a knighthood or something."

Kin tried to giggle and pass out simultaneously.

Soon enough they were back on their feet, scouring the coastline once more. As it tended to do, Kin's mind turned to music as they walked. Link's explanation of Princess Zelda had left Kin inspired. Harmonies and arpeggios twirled around her head. Slowly, she shaped them into a melody – a painting of the sovereign she felt she knew. By the time she and Link turned inland, cutting through the island back toward camp, Kin had composed a draft of the princess' theme to be used within her epic. As tribute to the informal way in which Link talked of the monarch Kin simply titled it "Zelda's Lullaby."

"Oh!" Kin exclaimed, emerging from her reverie. "Wind reeds!" The hollow stalks of grass wafted lazily in the breeze. Carefully, she picked out several shoots that had nearly grown to maturity and, with a deft slice of a carving knife, cut them free.

"What are those for?" Link asked.

"You'll see!" Kin replied, giving him what she hoped was a mysterious look.

Link chuckled. "Alright."

Within the hour, they found themselves back at their campsite. Tired from a full day's walking, they rested their backs against the overhanging stone pillar and passed a water skin back and forth.

All the while, thoughts of her arrangement for Zelda's Lullaby occupied Kin's mind. In her experience, few mental compositions sounded the same in reality as they did in the mind, and Kin was eager to hear how the princess' theme translated onto her harp. As soon as she had drank her fill of water, Kin retrieved her instrument and began to play.

This is good, she thought, listening to the music curiously. But it's missing something.

"That reminds me of Zelda," Link said. His eyes were closed and he inhaled deeply, like he was trying to breathe the music.

"I'm writing her theme for my epic," Kin explained, letting her hands fall away from the strings. She had always felt that the trailing silence after a song seemed full of energy and opportunity. "It's not quite right though,"

Link nodded. "I could feel the princess, but Zelda has more faces than the one which wears the crown." He had opened his eyes, but Kin could tell that he was still looking inward at something from his past. She watched him intently, praying he meant to say more.

"Crazy bard, are you going to write music about me?" Navi asked excitedly. Floating over, she alit on the bow of Kin's harp.

"Of course! You're the hero of the story after all." Kin chuckled at Navi's exuberance. "Why do you call me that? Crazy bard."

"Because, you're a crazy goddess-damned bard who was sent from the shadow realm to make our lives a living hell!" the little fairy exclaimed happily in what Kin could only assume was an imitation of Link.

"Oh really?" Kin said, looking over at Link with a flat expression.

A snorting chuckle burst out of the swordsman before he could contain it. He tried his best to mask it with a cough and busy himself with lighting the fire, but he couldn't help another chuckle from escaping.

Kin smacked him upside the head.

Everything was silent for a moment.

In unison, both Kin and Link suddenly broke into unrestrained laughter. The sound of their mirth echoed vibrantly among the open fields.

As the laughter subsided, Link studied Kin with an odd expression. Finally, he turned back to the fire.

"I suppose," he began hesitantly. "That I should tell you about Zelda. About me. About the story behind the Prophecy of Ages." He struck the tinderbox without really paying attention. "If you want to really know who we are, you'll need to know where we came from."

Kin's heart leapt excitedly. Eagerly, she leaned forward, holding onto Link's every word. This was history – a rare glimpse into the chronicle of time as it moved from age to age. This was a story that, if she had her way, would be retold throughout the ages.

The bard would not forget of word of what followed for the rest of her life.

Kin sat alone next to the flickering fire as the sun dipped ever lower toward the horizon. The bard tried desperately to order her thoughts – to quiet the storm that raged through her mind. Her foundations had been torn apart.

"When Din spoke, it felt like fire had filled my veins," Link said, clearly reliving the vivid memory. "It felt like that with each of the goddesses."

Kin couldn't interrupt. She was speechless, utterly overwhelmed that the man before her had actually spoke with the creators of the world.

"They aren't kind, or gentle," Link said. "They're cruel, and unfair, and beautiful. They tortured me in those trials. They broke my mind and my spirit, and then they reshaped me to be their tool."

Kin shivered. Link's tale had been long, and full of wonder. Even now, long after his words had dried up and he had gone to be alone, Kin felt as if she could barely breathe.

Slowly, she opened and closed her hand, trying to imagine the feel of the sword he carried, and the weight of its memories. He had experienced so much loss. His family, his love, his home, Kin realized. He has nothing left. How does he continue on? She trembled as she began to appreciate his absolute strength of will.

Absently, Kin began to carve one of the wind reeds she had cut down earlier. Her fingers worked dexterously, but the actions she made were so familiar that they offered little distraction from the words that still strangled her thoughts.

"After I failed Farore's trial, I nearly gave in. I nearly let myself fade into oblivion. To become the Hero of Time...that had been my one hope. I had latched onto it with a desperate, unhealthy fervor, and to have it wrenched from my grasp was a worse cruelty than any of the trials.

"When I left to challenge Ganon, it wasn't out of courage. I wanted to die. I wanted so badly for him to kill me, and for Malon to be freed by my death." Link's voice grew soft. "I wanted to die in a way that made up for my failure. It was selfish, and thoughtless.

"When I tried to leave, Sheik thought to hold me back. I spun on her in rage. In my mind, her Zelda was no better than Ganon. They had destroyed me. They shared the blame for my brother's death. And for Malon's." Hollowly, he added, "I'm not sure if I don't still believe that.

"So when she revealed herself to be Zelda in disguise, my rage only grew. Her words of regret and sorrow fell on deaf ears. Words meant nothing. They were empty, and devoid of action. Remorse could not save my Malon."

Kin sighed. Abandoning, for the moment, the wind reed, she lay back onto the grass and tried to lose herself in the movement of the clouds as they danced far above. For the first time, she realized how little she had truly known about Link before now. How little she had understood. He was much more than a song – an epic. He was a painful masterpiece of emotion that she doubted could ever be captured by her harp.

She had never before worried that her own talent might be inadequate for the task she had set herself upon. Closing her eyes, she tried to let her mind wander. Notes. Chords. Instruments. A whole orchestra of sounds. No matter how she crafted the music, it amounted to nothing more than feeble shadows of intent.

No, Kin chided herself, clenching the carving knife viciously in her hand. I will not give up! Even if it took a hundred years, she would do this. For him. And for Malon.

Kin had been surprised, at the end, to discover she had developed a strong connection to the ill-fated cowgirl. Link had described her with such feeling, such emotion, that she had come alive. Kin could see her hair as it waved crimson in the breeze, could hear her voice calling out over the hills, could feel her cold stone prison beneath her hand. The bard's heart cried out for the girl she had never known. Kin bit her lip, holding back tears for the friend she could never have met.

"There is more," Link had said just before walking away. Kin could see his hands quiver. "More that I've kept hidden from you. The Sands of Time; it's true Venus said it would save the kingdom," he forcefully met her gaze, then dropped his head dejectedly. "But she—she also said it could save Malon. That it could bring her back."

Kin's heart leapt. Joy. Confusion. And strangely, sadness.

The words Link said next shook her to her very core. "And I fear for Hyrule. I fear because I don't know which purpose drives me."

With that, he had gone. Leaving Kin to tremble at the thought that Hyrule's one hope for salvation might abandon them for an end that she could not argue he was wrong to pursue.

Shaking her head, Kin returned to the wind reed. Link deserved happiness, but there was nothing to say he could not save Hyrule and save Malon. If there is any fairness left in the world, Goddesses let it be so. Kin nearly cried out at the pain that suddenly shocked her heart. Save Malon. For some reason, the thought upset her. Why?

Just then, Link and Navi returned to camp. His eyes seemed tired and he didn't speak, but Kin could see that his walk with the little fairy had helped to calm his heart.

The swordsman sat next to her and lost himself in the fire. Kin watched him beneath half-lidded eyes, marveling at the things he had seen and done.

"Thank you," he said suddenly. "I think I needed someone to hear all that. I'm glad it was you."

Kin didn't know what to say. Smiling to hide her discomposure, she tossed the whittled wind reed at him.

"What's this?" he asked, catching it deftly out of the air.

"It's a flute," Kin explained, glad to put her mind to some other matter. "I learned how to make them as a child." She grinned mischievously. "And I'm going to teach you how to play."

Link held the instrument awkwardly, not sure how to handle the unfamiliar item. "Are you sure? I've never been very good at—"

"Well you've never had me as a teacher!" Kin cut him off. "I'm going to teach you how to play, and that's that. How can I be friends with someone who has no appreciation for music? If this doesn't set you straight, I'm a cucco."

Link looked at her curiously for a moment, then smiled widely, happiness wrinkling the corners of his eyes.

As the sun continued to set, Kin walked Link through how to hold the flute, and the different fingerings for each note. Together they let the activity distract them from their fear of the oncoming darkness, each struggling not to dwell on the specter from the night before. Link laughed often, but surprised Kin with his determination to learn the instrument. Even when it became apparent that he had no natural talent for music, he refused to quit.

Kin couldn't help but smile at the wholehearted way he dove into their lessons. She wondered what drove him, when only minutes before, he had seemed so disinterested in the matter.

Link's wide chest heaved as he blew through the flute, struggling to master the instrument. As Kin watched his chest rise and fall, her mind wandered back to the night before. She could still feel the warmth of his body, still hear the sound of his heartbeat. Heat filled her cheeks.

"What's wrong?" Link asked.

Kin turned a deeper shade of crimson. "I—it's nothing."

As twilight wore on, the fog slowly returned, once again warded away by their small campfire. Kin watched the wall of mist, her heart racing. She tried to fight down a series of tremors that threatened to wrack her body. Next to her, Link set aside his flute and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. Made desperate by her fear, she nestled into the crook of his shoulder without hesitation or shame.

"Can you feel that?" he asked softly. "Navi, do you feel that?"

The fairy floated out of his hat and slowly approached the edge of the fog. "It's not the same," the little ball of light replied. "It doesn't feel as bad."

Link nodded, his thoughts apparently confirmed. "Don't worry," he told Kin comfortingly. "I don't think it will be back tonight."