I've been toying with a lot of the ideas for the inevitable end of this story. In fact, I've written several different possible endings, each of which I feel provides a satisfying ending…but maybe not so much for you. I know there are some of you calling for Zelda's blood, waiting for Nox to just go completely (for lack of a better word) apeshit and ravage Hyrule, which is what I've been building towards the entire duration of this story. However, what's surprising is that there's a good number of you who are dreading this ending. Those firm ZeLinkers (or perhaps they just can't stand an unhappy ending) who just want everyone to turn out alright and have things all clichéd. Who believe Nox deserves Zelda in the end. I've thought of several possible solutions, but this one seems the most convenient to satisfy the biggest audience: how would you guys feel about possibly including alternate endings? One with the ending I originally planned, one with the complete opposite, and one in the middle. To be honest, I would be thrilled if people wanted to read Nox get together with Zelda in the end, since the challenge of keeping everyone in character and not completely ruining everything I've built will be a fun one.

I've set up a poll on my profile, but by all means, review and give me a more in depth opinion. I've very curious as to your standpoint. I don't want this to seem as a copout.

Hope you enjoy the chapter!

~Alyssa

(PS: because someone asked, here are main character's ages as of now: Nox is 18, a few weeks away from being 19. Archer is 21. Kassia is 18. Zelda is 19. Wolfe just turned 15. Linden is 11. Oh, and Evelyne is 17. Figured I'd throw that in there just because she'll be playing a slightly larger part in the next few chapters)

Torpens dolor paulisper tantum facit eam peius, ubi tandem sentiunt.

….

Numbing the pain for a short time will only make it worse when you finally feel it.

ox(O)xo

After two hours of impossible work in the training room of the barracks, I could walk again without trouble.

After four, I could hold my sword without shaking arms.

After five and a half, I could roll and dodge without my legs giving out.

At six, I could swing.

Every second was a struggle, but it wasn't without recompense. After all, every second I worked, every drop I sweated, I was closer to winning this tournament, closer to all my questions being answered.

Closer to her.

After strengthening my muscles to the point (however temporary) where they wouldn't give up on me, the rest was too simple. Though my body was weak, my mind was still strong, and it, at least, remembered everything Impa had taught me over the last several months. Every lunge and parry and any other technique that she had so painstakingly taught us were engraved into my memory, arms and legs at the ready to perform them. The dummies, with their bucket heads and potato-sack bodies, were no match.

It was invigorating. After three weeks of doing absolutely nothing, of being able to feel anything, see anything, be anything, I was in control. I was strong. I was deadly.

No, it wasn't just invigorating. It was glorious.

I spent the night in the barracks, hacking my way through an army of buckets and sacks stuffed with straw, feeling every muscle in my body strengthening with each passing minute. And though my bones ached and my lungs, burning in my chest, screamed at me to give up, my furiously beating heart pushed me onward.

Sure, the going was tough, but Farore was it rewarding.

Of course, the red potion Wolfe wordlessly offered me in the early hours of the morning helped too; it all but erased the exhaustion and the heavy feeling that was ensnaring my limbs. The fact that it was meant as a peace offering was obvious, though when he sat in the corner to watch me, the unamused glare on his face made it clear that he did not condone my actions. Not one bit.

Not that I cared.

By the time the town began to become loud with the sounds of the people flocking into the hastily erected stadium in the castle gardens, I was nothing less than a ruthless, deadly machine, ready for battle. Wolfe had left a short while ago to prepare himself, also planning on meeting with Baxter and the rest of them, who were due to show up in town sometime today. They would be watching the tournament along with the rest of the city, and I would see them afterward.

I quickly descended the stairs from the barracks, jogging merrily across the green of the grounds and around the back of the small stadium, where several heavily armed men were gathered, talking in hushed voices, crossing their arms so that their muscles flexed menacingly, trying to intimidate their adversaries. I smiled at the young woman who was manning registration, thanking her happily when she handed me my bundle of tournament-issued weaponry: one dull iron sword, one battered wooden shield, a bundle of chainmail, a cloth square with the number "13" emblazoned on it, and most interestingly, a tunic, forest green in color.

Before I had a chance to overthink this, she ushered me inside, closing the door behind and directing me down the hallway to the room where the rest of the Sheikah were preparing.

I hadn't taken two steps inside before a chorus of loud, unhappy moans filled the room. Wolfe, sitting smugly on a bench in the middle clothed in a silver tunic identical to mine, held out his hand and made a 'gimmie' gesture to Eli, who grudgingly handed over a yellow rupee.

"You made bets on whether or not I'd show?" I asked them, thoroughly amused, as three more yellow rupees and a handful of green ones flew through the air in Wolfe's general direction, pegging him in the torso. "I'm flattered."

"Not me," cut in Hank, buckling the belt on his tunic around his hips. "It could have gone either way. I'm poor enough as it is; the only thing I'll bet on is a sure thing."

Archer grinned from his spot in the corner. "I told them all it was a fool's bet." He stood up, disentangling himself from the lavender-clad Kynleigh, and coming to envelop me in a one armed hug. "It's good to see you lucid."

"Good to be lucid." I said, laughing as he oh-so-subtly tossed Wolfe a rupee behind my back. "Better to know how much faith you have in me."

He pulled away, shrugging shamelessly. "You've been out for what, two weeks?"

"Three," Wolfe corrected, gleefully polishing a blue rupee on his sleeve before tossing it onto the growing pile of bounty in his lap.

"Last time you stayed in bed that long, you were ten and you had the measles."

"And?" I asked, claiming a spot on the bench next to Wolfe and beginning to get changed.

"You couldn't stand up long enough to use the bathroom." Archer said plainly, and Kyn began to giggle at my expense. "I had to carry you."

"Times have changed, my brother." I said as I tossed my tunic over my head, lacing the belt into place. "Just in case you haven't noticed, I'm a big boy now."

"All I noticed," interjected Leila, closing the door behind her with a yellow tunic and a number '21' in hand. "Is Fortis telling everyone who will listen how badly he's going to beat you in the first round. They just posted the match ups out front. I'm with you." She gestured to Eli, who grinned, cracking his knuckles.

"It's on." He replied as Leila dumped her belongings next to Shadow, starting to unlace her boots. She turned around, sticking out her tongue.

They continued on with their playful banter, but abruptly, I had stopped caring. Of all the people in the tournament—and judging from the growing crowd waiting to register out front and the noise inside the hallway, there were plenty—I had to be paired with the biggest, angriest, cockiest moron in the entire competition? He would no doubt be playing to my weaknesses, and like most of the Sheikah, he just about knew them all.

But I had to win. There was no other option.

So I would.

And I'd be damned if I let him of all people stop me.

"Seriously, though, Nox. You've got to beat him." continued Leila, reinforcing my thought process. "He has been such a pain in training these last couple weeks. If he wins this thing, he'll be unbearable."

A beat of silence, and then,

"That I'd be willing to bet money on." said Hank.

Just then, the girl from the front popped her head in, interrupting the laughter that had erupted from everyone in the room. "Sorry," she said, cheeks flushing a light pink. "I'm looking for numbers five and seventeen. The competition is just about to begin, and they're up first."

"Me," Shadow said, jumping up from her seat and heading out the door. A minute or so later, judging by the sudden roar of the crowd, the tournament had officially begun.

I spent the good part of an hour having Wolfe, Eli, and Archer recap the last three weeks, the rest of the Sheikah leaving in ones and twos as their numbers were called. But soon, even they left, leaving me by myself in the eerily quiet room.

I don't know how long I sat before the cheery girl popped in again, beckoning me out into the hallway.

"I believe you're the last ones to go this round." She commented lightly as I followed her down the long hall, the hollering of the crowd getting progressively louder and louder with each step, until finally we reached the giant set of wooden doors that would release me into the arena.

"Good luck." She said, raising her knuckles to the wood and tapping twice.

The doors creaked open, and I walked outside, releasing me to the screaming of the audience and the blinding light of the sun. Vaguely I could make out Fortis doing the same at the other side of the arena, raising his hand in the air graciously like he was a returning war hero, smiling and waving and making a complete fool of himself. It was then that I noticed what he was wearing. It was the same issued tunic and chainmail, just as everyone else was wearing.

Identical to mine down to the last stitch, except, of course, for the color.

Black.

But this, I had only picked up from my peripheral vision. I wasn't looking at him, not really. My eyes were scanning the seats of the stadium, looking for the embellished throne up on some pedestal that would indicate her location.

There she was, right in the center of the masses, in an enclosed box full of all sorts of finery with her husband at her side and surrounded by the rest of the gentry. She was talking to the woman seated to her left, something about her health, possibly, considering one of her arms had come to cross somewhat defensively over her stomach, a crease forming in between her eyebrows as she spoke.

My gaze never left the box as I crossed mechanically to my place in the middle of the arena, eyes locked on her face, her body, trying to figure out could be wrong with her. "With the queen in her condition," Impa had stressed. What condition? Besides the sour expression now painting her face, she seemed fine. Perfect.

The king turned to her briefly, whispering something into her ear before returning to his conversation, blindly reaching for her hand, which had occupied the armrest of her chair until just a second before.

It was then, when she deftly avoided the contact by turning to someone behind her, that something clicked.

With her profile in full view, almost unperceivable at this distance and half-concealed by her arm, I could see the minute little bump protruding from her stomach.

Ah.

Ice filled my lungs as my mind put all the pieces together, so obvious to me now that it was out in the open. The extra guard, the time stressing the pathways to the nursery, the news that Lucien had delivered to the king three weeks previous.

Zelda was pregnant.

This fact had been bad enough to send me into a three-week coma the last time I found out.

But now, there was nothing but emptiness.

"Warriors, at the ready!"

The shout of the referee called my focus back to the task at hand.

This was a competition, and I was here to win.

Fortis grinned as he pulled his blade from his hip, and vaguely, I realized I was unsheathing my own, raising my right arm with shield in hand. Every muscle was suddenly tensed, ready to spring at my direction.

But…it wasn't me doing it.

Through the misty haze clouding my mind, it occurred to me that I had never consciously decided to move. Never willed my limbs to ready my weaponry. Never told my muscles to curve my face into the sadistic smile that I could feel painting my lips. No matter how hard I internally struggled, I could not remove it, or even gesture to the referee that something was wrong.

Like…I was a puppet.

With someone else pulling the strings.

I had experienced this feeling in dreams before, some phantom controller showing me all of the twisted horrors of my mind when I was helpless to do anything about it. But I could wake up from these dreams—help from Eli and Archer and Wolfe aside. The terrors, the voice, they were all creations of my thoughts. They couldn't actually hurt me in the real world.

Or so I thought.

"Get set!"

As if the mention of him in my train of thought had summoned him, I began to hear the very same voice that I had battled every night in my dreams. I half expected him to rub it in, triumphant for somehow escaping the snare of my nightmares and coming to haunt me in my waking hours. To explain, at least, what he was doing, or why, as he always did.

But now, he just laughed, his high pitched cackle echoing my ears as my grip tightened on my sword.

And then I was running.

Faster than I had ever ran in my life, I tore across the fifty yards that separated us. Fortis, eyes glinting with excitement and arrogance, was the first to swing.

Steel clanged on steel, again and again in a deadly dance of lunges and parries that meshed together so exactly it could have been choreographed. No holes were left to be exploited.

We began to circle each other, tensed at the ready, neither one able to gain the advantage or find a weakness in the other's stance.

So Fortis chose to create one.

"So," he asked, voice amiable like we had just bumped into each other on a street corner, eyes burning with malice. "How's our Queen doing?"

Try as I might, there was no way I could hide the hatred and pain from my eyes. He smiled winningly, lunging for my legs. Distracted as I was, I was barely able to avoid the severing of my limbs by jumping over it.

"We all hear you talking in your sleep," he sneered, carefully watching my resolve. I bit down on my tongue. Don't be hasty, now, the voice in my head chided, though as he continued it got harder and harder to resist. Rage boiled inside me like a kettle overflowing with steam.

But I was not in charge, and the voice chose to wait. "Funny, how every night, you're whispering the same name. Zelda. Zelda. What's with that, Nox, hm?" His face twisted into a smile, beginning to croon at me like I was a small child. "Got a fetish for royalty? Got a big secret? You been fucking the Princes—"

With a loud cry, I lunged, my blade aiming to cleave his vulnerable, vulgar head in half. How dare he even imply that she ever did anything so grotesque as 'fucking' with anyone?! How dare he belittle her, try to use my nightmares against me, bring to the surface the horrible visions I'd had about her and that despicable King of Noamas that had stolen her away from me so permanently?! He would pay. He would die. Here and now, I would end it.

…And then, after I was done with him, I would end her, too.

I fought through a parasite-infested tree and watched the Deku Tree, the only father I had ever known, die for her. I traversed through a cavern full of Goron-eating dodongos and nearly burnt off my leg in the process for her. I turned my back on the boy that would have became my best friend in the world and let a newborn baby die for her. I let myself be eaten by a giant fish and carted around a spoiled rotten princess on my head whilst killing the monster that was devouring it alive for her. I cleansed countless temples and awakened six sages while the entire world crumbled around me for her. I killed The King of Thieves; a living, breathing person, for her.

It was she that had promised me the world; a family, a life, a happy ending.

But when it was all said and done, she sent me back in time.

This was all her fault.

Everything was all her fault.

I see you no longer require my services. whispered the voice, and I could hear the gleeful smile in his tone as he was suddenly gone from my mind.

No, I no longer required his services.

I had the power, once upon a time, that saved this kingdom. I helped build it back up, restored it to its former glory, put an incapable princess back on the throne, only to have her betray me in the worst way possible.

Yes, I saved this kingdom once.

But now, I would tear it back down.

Once again, I lunged for Fortis, a newfound speed and sureness in my swing as I pictured her in his place, at my mercy at last.

But he, unfortunately, did not keep with the charade. He ducked underneath my arm, but my right hand was there waiting for him. I grabbed him by the shoulder, bringing my knee up to kick him in the chest. He stumbled backwards, and in the second that he loosened his grip on his sword, it was out of his hands, flung into the air behind me where he wouldn't have a prayer of retrieving it.

I could have ended it there, if I had chose, simply relieving him of his shield in another fluid motion and having him surrender without anything to defend himself with.

But what would have been the fun in that?

Deftly, I charged him again, avoiding the feeble attack of the shield that he offered in defense. I curled my arm around his neck, twisting him into a headlock, forgoing the sword to instead beat him senseless with my own fists.

"How DARE you!" I roared as I threw him to the ground, kicking his shield away in my fit of rage. His nose snapped underneath my foot with a satisfying sound, and blood began to gush onto the dirt.

He didn't even make a move to stop me as I continued to pummel him, slamming my fists into his face again and again until it resembled nothing more than a bloodied piece of meat.

I pressed my forearm against his neck, watching as he futilely struggled to break free of my hold, his lips beginning to turn blue as he gasped for air.

Oh, how I longed to silence that mouth forever, make sure he never said another foul word against me again. But vaguely, I remembered that Baxter was here, with Zenith and Garrett…and Linden. How could I explain my lack of mercy to her? How could she look at me again knowing that I had killed a man for sport? They were all I had left, whispered the near-silent voice of reason in the back of my mind.

However quiet it was, though, it was enough to bring me back to my senses.

It was almost painful to lean down, to put my ears to Fortis's lips and quietly whisper "Yield."

Painful as I spared the next three opponents I faced, knowing full well I could have easily killed them all.

Painful as the girl from the front came to the center of the arena and crowned me the victor, raising a bloodied hand high in the air as the crowd roared its approval, watching Zelda stand up from her seat and starting to leave her box.

And she began to descend the steps from her balcony to the floor, every eye in the stadium on her, watching in suspended silence. In a few moments, she was just before me, her thin ornamental sword in hand. It glittered in the sunlight, gems sending rainbows across my face.

But before I could make a move towards her, the voice was back with his cloudy control ensnaring my limbs, and I sank to one knee, head bowing in respect that she didn't deserve.

"Warrior." She acknowledged, and her voice carried over the silence with the wind, her steady soprano magically amplified so even the farthest away could hear her. "You have fought valiantly."

My entire body ached to unsheathe the bloodied sword at my hip and end her in one clean swipe. She was here, so close…it would almost be too simple. I could almost hear her last scream—no, she would not be allowed time to scream, however delicious the sound would be—I could almost feel the warmth of her blood against my skin.

But no. I was locked into place by the voice, puppet strings held taut.

Soon. he promised. Patience.

I silently growled in frustration, hardly listening as she droned on.

"A time of need has befallen this nation." She continued, words flowing sinuously. "These are hard, dangerous times, in which we as a people must be united more than ever."

She paused a moment, raising her chin, eyes scanning the silent masses, meeting every one of their gazes at once.

"As such, we must look to our best and brightest, and hope that they will be our guides to lead us through the dark. This man here, he will be Hyrule's light."

The crowd roared its assent as she pressed a gentle hand to my shoulder. My jaw locked into place, muscles still out of my control.

"Which is why I wish to knight him."

Silence, again, as she turned to me, hand moving from my shoulder to my chin and lifting my bowed head. Her eyes burned fire into mine, daring me to object. "Warrior…do you accept?"

There were a thousand things that I wanted to say at that moment, with the mob of people watching and a sword in hand, with her husband far enough away not to come to her aid and a child in her belly, all of which the voice stopped in their tracks before they were able to come in to fruition. Instead, he urged my arm forward, my unwilling hand grasping hers and bringing it to my mouth.

"My lady," I whispered as my lips grazed her gloved hand, the voice taking pleasure in the scandalized gasp that rose from the masses. "…I would be honored."

She smiled then, though it was far from reaching her eyes. Slowly, she lifted her sword, flat side of the blade touching my left shoulder, then right, then the top of my head respectively, forming the symbol of the holy Triforce before she spoke again.

"Then arise, Sir Greenhero." She beamed, arm gesturing grandiosely to the awaiting stadium, who erupted in applause, cheers rising from every corner. "And greet your people!"

I kept with the act, bowing humbly and accepting the sword that was brought forth, showfully swinging it twice before twisting it around, artfully stowing it in the sheath on my back in a maneuver that looked much more complicated and impressive than it actually was.

But inside, my mind was raging with turmoil.

How did she remember that?

A thousand emotions raced through me in seconds; confusion, pain, anger, sorrow, more confusion…and to my disgust, a sickening amount of hope. Like somehow, this could change everything. Like her coincidentally picking out a name she had mentioned in a previous life would make her not pregnant and married and now that her temporary lapse in memory was over we could live happily ever after.

Hope. I scoffed at the word, crushed it like a bug underfoot. Hope had gone almost a decade ago, and there was no way I would let it ensnare my heart again.

Regardless of whether she remembered or not, there would be no forgiveness, no mercy for the abhorable woman once she had the ill fate to slip into my grasp.

I would have my revenge.

I would have my revenge if I had to destroy all of Hyrule to do it.

This is what I told myself as the crowd was released into the stadium, as Archer clasped me on the back with a terribly confused look in his eyes, as he told me he was going to see Baxter and the rest of the family and that once things died down to meet him there, as the people enveloped me and sang my praises and told me how wonderful I was.

But I couldn't care less what they had to say.

I'll kill you, I thought as I shook some noble's hand, briefly touching each person as I passed them by, trying to make my way to the drawbridge without drawing too much attention to myself. And you. And you.

All of you, if you dare stand in my way.

After what seemed like an age, things finally did die down, and I was able to slip away unnoticed.

As soon as the voice relinquished control of my body, I ran away. But not to Baxter's. Instead through the crevices and alleyways of town and the secret and not-so-secret hallways of the castle until I had made it back to the barracks.

And there, safely in my room where no one would see, I vomited until there was nothing left to retch.

This literally took forever, and I'm sorry for that. But we're hitting the climax, and I wanted it to be amazing. The fight scene took several revisions and help from one of my good friends (thank you, Sam, for all your guidance) to complete. Thank you all for your patience. I hope this lived up to your expectations.

We're more than 80% of the way there to my 500 review goal for this story. We can do it! We can do it! We can do it! (Because I have an extra special surprise for you guys if we do!)

Also, I know I say this all the time and I hardly ever follow through on it, but I'm in the works of my next project after this one, and I NEED A BETA. To my dismay, my brain decided it wanted to write some Zelink fluff, and at one in the morning all these things happened and suddenly I had a chapter and a half before I could stop myself. And now I'm in love. If you offered before, let me know if you're still interested, because I know a lot of you aren't into that kind of thing, and I PROMISE I'LL PICK ONE THIS TIME. I've already set up a whole bunch of negative repercussions for myself. Like if I wait longer than a week to pick one after this chapter is posted all my friends at school get to gang up on me during gym class.

Trust me, I will not let that happen. /shudders.

See you next update!

~Alyssa