Ok. Before you read, you must know that my dear cousin -Kat- wrote this chapter. I seriously am VERY grateful for this, because I had no idea where I was going with this entire story until she wrote this out on a random burst of inspiration. Seriously, she nailed this right on the head.

Rilricks: Ok, dude. I loved your review. YAY. I got a double-o sooper!! That made my day.

Rebel: Thanks for your review!

Gabbiez: Your reviews are my favorites to read. Because one, you seem to hit all the major discussion points that -Kat- and I talk about (get off our brainwave!); and two, you find the points that I hide in there for analytical readers like you. Don't worry... -Kat- and I are putting something special for you to figure out soon enough...

Chapter 8

Another string of foul profanities burned like acid through the air, tainting its purity enclosed within the fresh forest, dripping and oozing until the sounds reached Claire's ears.

She winced.

He… had had never been so vulgar until lately. It made Claire's heart ache. Since leaving the castle, blocked from the soothing comfort, and even the knowledge of, his triforce had given him, Shea had become a different person.

Shea let out a frustrated grunt, though it sounded more like a growl. He rubbed the sticks together furiously, attempting at a spark. He became madder still when he felt the air grow damp; it was going to rain soon.

His eyes darkened at the thought that Blaize, in all his damn-pyro glory, could have started this fire in the blink of an eye; even if it was raining.

Lip curling in disgust, Shea cursed his former comrade's name and everything about him—everything that existed with him and after him. After all, it was the traitor's fault they were in this mess…

"Hey, Shea?" Can I… help?"

Claire. She had been probing around him the last week, trying to "assist" him. It was getting old.

"No." The answer was so simple. Why didn't she get it?

The green-eyed girl bit her lip. "Why not?"

Shea sighed, putting down his sticks to give her an annoyed look. Each time she had asked this question, or one similar to it, he had responded in the same way:

"Because, Claire, I don't need your help, or anyone else's. Ever." Except this time, fed up with her incessant pestering, he made it much more scathing; a cruel twist poisoning his tone.

She appeared very affronted, and suddenly hurt. It gave him a sick sort of satisfaction to end up triumphant. At least, it did until she rapidly glared at him with such ferocity that he nearly cringed.

"Shea," she hissed, voice low, "how dare you talk to me like that! I hate having to walk on eggshells around you all the time!" She clenched a handful of her hair. "The truth is, Sir Demi-God, even you need help—stop trying to make yourself believe otherwise! Emri and I are here for you, Shea," she stressed his name, "but you have to start trusting us again."

Hearing the name of the third member of their group, Shea lazily turned his head towards Emri, who was watching the conversation with a contemplative frown.

Shea looked back at Claire, blinking when he saw a glassy sheen over her emerald eyes. A flare of irritation rose up within him: why was she about to cry?

"Look at yourself Claire," Shea said bitingly, placing a thumb under one of her eyes. "Can you afford to help yourself? You shouldn't even be out here—Emri either. You two are just going to get in my—"

"Oh! So I'm—we're—a liability now?!" Claire shouted indignantly, clenching her fists.

Shea rolled his eyes. She was overreacting. "Calm down," he drawled, as though it wasn't worth his time to have this conversation. "You're so—"

Claire gave a loud shriek of protest, angry tears gathering in her eyes at his inability to listen. "Listen to yourself!" she hollered at him. "Since when did you ever talk to one of your friends like this?" She took a few breaths and smiled bitterly.

"Are we not worth your time anymore, great one? Are you tired of fighting with us? For us? Are you going to betray us too?!"

Shea's jaw clenched as he reached out and gripped Claire's upper arm. "You have no idea what you're talking about," he snarled.

Wincing at how hard he was holding her arm, Claire stifled a cry. He was hurting her… "You… you're worse than Blaize right now," she breathed at him, "…worse than the Exelian King, than any of those damn—"

"Claire," Shea's tone was deadly. "Don't even think about comparing me to them. Get those thoughts out of your filthy, corrupted mind. I am nothing like them!"

"Really? What are you doing right now, eh? Degrading me, our trust… and it's true!" she argued, sniffing. "You know it!"

"Shuttup!" The word was so fierce sounding, so frightening in its connotation that Claire almost didn't notice his eyes in the verbal distraction…

They were glowing a noxious yellow-white now, accentuated by a mouth pulled back at the corners in disdain. As she looked in them, Claire felt the pit of her stomach drop from beneath her in pure terror. In those eyes she saw nothing but a sadistic malice, and she remembered every hurt… every pain… every failure she had lived through.

Claire's mouth dropped in a silent yell, ripping her arm out of his hand. This was not Shea… he wasn't her Shea.

That was when she started to run. Those eyes… she wasn't good enough. Her wrist was caught for a moment and she heard his voice by her ear; a nauseating dread filled her—it wasn't his voice either.

"Where's your courage now?" it said to her, the inquiry hurting more than her arm when she again yanked it away.

So caught up in her escaping was she, that Claire almost didn't catch the resounding crack that was made when Emri's fist connected with Shea's jaw. She'd have to thank the girl later...

But for now Claire ran, ran through her own tears and her own hurt and her own failure. She couldn't bring him back… but then, he never really came back. Vaguely, as she continued to rush blindly past the blackness of the forest, Claire wondered when it had started to rain…

--

Shea was sure he heard something pop. Great Nayru! Emri hit hard! Rubbing his jaw, Shea scowled at the chestnut-haired girl, wondering why she looked like she wanted to murder him.

"Have you no shame?" she shouted at him, eyes flickering when she brushed her wet bangs from her face. "What's your problem?!"

Shea stared at her blearily. "Wha…?" His head hurt. And he was all wet—when did it start to rain? Why was she screaming at him again? It was like he had just woken up… painfully.

"…can't believe you had the audacity to say some of those things! Have you honestly lost it? She's been more than patient with you all week, and then you go and snap?!"

Shea's brow furrowed. "Emri, slow down. I don't know what you're—" he stopped himself, noticing that a certain presence was missing. "Where's Claire?"

Emri seemed to be fighting very hard not to punch him again. "What kind of idiotic…" she trailed off in a strained voice, struggling to gain some control of her anger. She gazed at him in disbelief a few moments, gray eyes scanning his face. "…you really don't know?"

"All I know is that my jaw is practically immobilized, my head's about to split open, and Claire's gone," reasoned Shea in exasperation, feeling slight pricklings of contempt at Emri's unexcused condescending behavior.

Emri stared at him tiredly, a softness coming back to her normally gentle eyes. "Shea," she started sternly, "Claire ran away."

Shea felt confused for a few seconds, before a panic began to settle in. "What? Why? Did she get hurt—did something attack us? Why can't I—"

"Shea! She… she ran away from you."

Emri's eyes bore into him, and Shea felt an eerie calmness seep through his skin, gliding between his bones and muscles with an ease that left him feeling numb. Then it was like he was struck with a jolt of electricity that burned and sparked against his whole body; tweaking at his toes and singeing the tips of his hair.

He remembered. He remembered growling and complaining at her, twisting what she was trying to offer into something cruel for his favor. He remembered hurting her, whispering discriminating words in her ear. He remembered her eyes… her beautiful, breathtaking green eyes that enraptured him each time he met them with his own, and how they had filled with bitter, salty tears.

Shea felt his face drain of blood, knees quaking under his weight. Why had he been so awful to someone as sweet and caring as Claire? Why had he scared her?

He looked at Emri with the unasked question on his tongue. The corners of her lips turned down.

"As of now, I'm suspecting Rhairu."

"How would he have anything to do with me freaking out on Claire? He blocking his powers from me, remember?"

Emri folded her arms. "Yes, but naturally his essence still is upon you, and you've been irritable this last week, a probability of Rhairu's discomfort. And you have to remember that since your encounter with him in the desert, he's opened a pinhole, you might say. But today… well, if something happened to really put him in a rage, as in, escalating beyond normal, then his anger would find some way to leak through the barriers he set inside you… and then your body would have some sort of reaction to your own mood, the contrasting strength of the barriers, and the anger of the god."

Shea stared. He sometimes wondered if she thought about things like that beforehand—who was that smart?

"I guess that makes sense…" trailed Shea thoughtfully as Emri nodded. "But what could she have said to set me off?"

Emri clucked her tongue, hesitating. "She compared you to Blaize and the other Exelians."

Shea groaned softly. "It got that bad?" he asked in despair. "What was I saying to her that would cause her to have that reaction?"

Emri shook her head. "You don't want to know. And I'm not telling you." She put a hand on Shea's shoulder comfortingly. "Remember, Shea, you were under Rhairu's anger at the time."

Shea's eyes narrowed. Didn't the God of Balance realize the effects and consequences of losing his mighty temper? It was so frustrating. And then there was the sheer stress gouged from the Blaize incident.

"Maybe Claire's right," Shea said, frowning. "Maybe I am like that traitor. Argh! And if it weren't for him, I wouldn't be in this hell of a mess!"

Emri glared when Shea's eyes flashed. "Hey," she said warningly, "I'm not dismissing the things he's done or anything, but not everything is Blaize's fault, Shea." She gave him a rough shove towards the trees. "Take responsibility for your own damn actions!"

Shea felt worried again. It wasn't often that Emri swore…

"Go find Claire and bring her back!" Emri pointed to the left. "She went that way. Now hurry, I'm sick of your pity-party and accusations."

Shea didn't hesitate another second after seeing the intensity in his friend's eyes; he would have to tell her thank you for this… Emri always seemed to know what to do. But he really must have messed up.

Taking off into the thick woods from the clearing he had been in, Shea ignored the stinging wetness of the trees' branches as he plowed against them. Claire… be safe until I find you.

--

Emri sighed, shivering as the wind picked up, stinging her already freezing body. The rain also grew more torrent, and she was forced to unwrap the folded cloak from around her waist to put over her shoulders.

This whole thing had gotten tiring. All she had hoped for was to find Shea and help him reach Hyrule; to try and give her some light in the murky situation she lived in, not realizing how she could feel other people and see so many things. But complexities and technicalities aroused more often than she could count, and, well… here they were.

She sat down at the base of a tree between some upturned roots to get as much of her self out of the rain as possible.

Her eyes roamed to where both Claire and Shea had run from. It pained her that two people of such promise and strength had to go through things like this. They would continue to do so, too. It was inevitable.

And herself? Well, she had been through her share of hardships. Emri brought her knees up to her chest upon pondering. But now it was a single incident that continuously wracked on her mind; on all of their minds, most likely.

Feh. That idiot. Did he have any idea what his absence was doing to their group? Without the other member of the triforce, tension naturally thickened… but when that other member purposefully left, the said tension was at an extreme.

It had been on both Claire and Shea's minds when they argued, throwing out his name as if it were taboo. And she wasn't faring any better.

Emri grimaced. How long had she known, now… now that she… Emri cut herself off when something flashed across her mind—followed by a deep, layered red.

Grabbing her staff, Emri leapt up, looking around wildly while shielding her eyes from the downpour.

What had that been? Some sort of warning signal? She stepped out with one foot, her shoe slipping easily over the slick grass and mud. Her eyes remained alert.

"Alright," Emri growled out over the pattering of the rain—now she was sure she had sensed another presence, "Come out!"

She waited a moment, listening for any rustlings in the brush; looking for any movements disturbing the trees. Nothing. Her eyes narrowed in confusion. Had her mind played a trick on her? That red… No. She was getting paranoid.

Sitting back down, Emri looked around warily. Maybe she was just tired, physically and mentally. Hopefully Shea and Claire were doing better than she.

--

Claire didn't know how long she had been standing, leaning her shoulder against a tree, and getting poured on; quite frankly, she didn't care. Thunder rolled off in the distance, the low, unsteady rumblings reflecting her uncertainty in all matters.

Was she a horrible person now? She had said some terrible things to Shea, fully realizing the extent to which he would be bothered.

Something had obviously been wrong with him, but she hadn't at all tried to figure out what, or why he had been acting with such hostility. There definitely was, and could still be, something wrong with him, and here she was. Crying. How pitiful…

But then, in her defense, he had been just as horrible to her! She looked up, narrowing her eyes into the distance, watching as many leaves were forced down to the soggy ground when they were pelted by the bullet-like rain drops. Sure, he had been in a bad mood recently, but that didn't mean he had any right to talk to her like she was less than him—like she could be stepped on as if she were some sort of vile insect. It was preposterous.

Her hands were shaking now, and Claire suddenly noticed that she was freezing. Well, she had realized she was cold before, but she had been numb to it while thinking. She imagined them, her hands, locked within Shea's hands, herself leaning against him…

She frowned. Ever since she had come to qualms about her love for Shea, she had been lavishing in any compassion from him. It still was disturbing to her that she was actually in love at the tender age of sixteen… she wasn't sure she was quite ready for the sheer commitment that just loving someone would take. What if they got in fights like this often? She wasn't sure her heart could take it.

Claire ran a thumb down the water-smoothed bark of the tree she was leaning against, tracing idle symbols in the thick wood. Her ears twitched when she heard the sloshing of stumbling footsteps, and her name being called.

"Claire!" Her chest constricted. Oh no. Not now—she wasn't ready to confront him yet. She tried to run, but her legs had gone stiff with the cold and it took her a moment to get started, and by then he grabbed her wrist and stopped her. "Claire, wait," he pleaded, "just wait."

He held desperation in his voice, and Claire was forced to look at him, guilt propelling the movement. Her eyes fell upon his face, and that guilt, still mingling with her anger, intensified. He looked so… sad. "Shea…" she began uncertainly.

Shea shook his head, water droplets flinging off his blonde hair as he interrupted her. "Listen, Claire. I… I don't know what I was thinking—"

"Obviously!" She pulled her hand from his grasp, controlling her guilt now. "Shea, you weren't thinking. You… I just," her voice broke angrily, and she stared intensely at the ground, at the pools of water gathering around their shoes.

Shea surprised her by grabbing at her wrist again, and she was about to pull away and yell at him to stop trying to restrain her, when he pulled her whole form against his, wrapping his arms around her back. Her muscles slackened, and she melted into his embrace. He was a very good hugger.

"I really didn't comprehend what I was saying, you know."

"Mmm?" Claire's head was foggy. He was so warm.

"And I promise I'll make it up to you…"

Her mind cleared up in an instance. She gave a frustrated yell as she pushed away from him, ignoring his bewildered look. "Then apologize!" she screamed, glaring. "You can't just say everything is going to be fine now… we're bound to fight again. Tell me you're sorry."

Shea licked his lips and Claire crossed her arms. She knew he had never been good at apologizing; it was an issue of pride that existed in most males, but Shea wasn't one who normally did things wrong and therefore hadn't had much practice at it… Well, now was the time to finally mature. He could not simply state the matter to be okay when it most certainly was not.

"Claire… I…"

"Yes?" she pressed.

He closed his eyes, sighing. "I'm a complete jerk and I had no right to talk or treat you like I did. You were only trying to help and I brushed you off, and when you spoke the truth I let my own arrogance get the better of me." He opened his eyes and looked into her own, the soft violet color gleaming. "I have been absolutely insufferable these past weeks and… and you have been nothing but perfect. I'm sorry, Claire. Can you please forgive me?"

Claire smiled, wondering if he had been working on that whilst trying to find her.

"I hope you can forgive me, too, because—" he swallowed here, and Claire was surprised to find there was more. She watched as his face flushed during his pregnant pause. "I…I can't seem to stop myself from falling in love with you."

Her green eyes widened as her body froze. Claire was sure Shea was saying something again, but she couldn't hear him. It was like time had stopped. She was sure she looked foolish at this moment… Then she noticed he was still talking. Why? Nothing else he said would have much relevance.

"Shea, be quiet," she ordered, still in a dazed stupor. Even to her the words sounded slurred. He raised an eyebrow.

"…Are you alright?"

She decided not to speak anymore. Leaning forward and coming to stand on her toes, Claire pressed her lips against his in a chaste kiss, almost smiling when his face went red, even in the cool of the rain. Hmm… she had always wondered what it would be like to kiss in the rain. Well, it had been better than even the last time. "I forgive you," she said quietly.

The sun seemed to wink at her from atop the trees as it sank in the sky. They should be heading back now… Emri might be worried something had happened to them. She intertwined her fingers with his and started to walk. "Let's go."

"Wait… was that kiss a yes, then?"

Claire paused, blinking. Oh dear… she must have missed something. "Pardon?"

Shea had a wicked glint in his eyes; something, unfortunately, that Claire missed. "So, yes, you'll marry me?"

Jaw dropping in horror, Claire clapped her hands around her mouth and spun to face him. Her face burned. Marriage? She wasn't ready to be married! How had she ignored him asking this?! "What?"

Shea's grin grew until he was laughing. He reached over to pat her on the head. "I was joking, Claire. I knew you hadn't been listening… and hey, you left it wide open."

She could breathe again. Heavens… "That wasn't very funny," she glared at him venomously. Although, inside, she was struggling to contain her own amusement.

The blonde gave her a smug look. "On the contrary, my dear, it was hilarious." He placed his hand in Claire's hand again and this time walked along with her. She smiled at him, totally innocent. She'd get him back later.

Okay. Reviews would be nice, please! I'm not giving you the next chapter unless I get lots of reviews! Yes, I'm looking at you lurkers... muwahah.