Behold! The third chapter out of five! Well, plus epilogue. This thing just keeps growing and growing.

This Lin and Zelda are too fun to write, seriously.

Enjoy!

S.S.

Touch - 3

Lin came knocking on her door during breakfast, looking sullen.

She stood in the doorway as Zelda finished her tea, which she didn't offer because Lin hated the beverage. "Yes, Lady Knightly?"

"...I'm sorry I did what I did without consulting you. But I'm not sorry that I did it."

Zelda sighed, and waved her in. She offered a wicker bowl full of butter rolls, from which Lin took one filled with nuts and seeds.

"Can you reverse it?"

Lin's expression turned even more peevish, tearing the warm loaf in ragged halves. "Probably. But it'll melt the rest of the crystal cage."

"I see." Zelda sighed again, pushing a pale of jam across, into which Lin dipped said bread, "As a citizen of Calatia I'm already on shaky ground holding him here, Lin. If we return him looking like that… it may come to war."

"So he's going free."

"No. He will be placed on trial for conspiring to take my throne, for the use of mind-magic, and for what he did to Tharlaigh. But we must go through the right channels, give evidence, and then he will go to prison for the rest of his life. I will make sure of it."

Some tension in Lin's shoulders eased, though her expression didn't change.

"If you can, try to make him younger by ten years or so, just to make sure he serves that many years of his sentence. Anything shorter wouldn't do justice for Tharlaigh."

Lin grinned. Good, it said, as she finally took a bite of bread.

"And I suppose you can leave some age-spots on his hand, to keep him on his toes."

The Hero chuckled, chewing. Zelda huffed with some relief, stacking her plates to the side to clear some space on her desk. "Now, about what's happened to Tharlaigh. The remnants of a travel gate has been located in the storage of an abandoned moat turret, on the eastern outskirts of the city. It was a long-range kind, which is probably why it collapsed on itself, and since he and Zant come from Calatia, it's probably where it leads."

Lin frowned quizzically, speaking with her mouth full. "Sheik's from Calatia?"

Zelda gave her a look. "You didn't know?"

The girl swallowed her food, scratching her cheek sheepishly with a spare hand. "He's Sheikah, so I thought they didn't really have a country."

"His mother was Calatian. And Lord Zant being her brother, well."

"Oh." Lin blinked and contemplated her other half of bread, evidently bewildered. "Does he, have other family?"

Zelda had the feeling that her answer would not go down well. "His father passed away a few years back, before you came back to us. His mother is still alive, working under one of the leaders of the Sheikah sects. I believe he has a half-sister too, on his father's side, but I don't know of her much."

She looked up. "...He has a sister."

"He actually mentioned recently about taking you to visit them," the Princess hastily added, because it was true, "I think he wanted to surprise you?"

"I've known him four years."

"Most of which he didn't trust you."

"Still!"

"Lin," Zelda sighed, showing her palms. "I know, it's saddening that he'd kept that from you, but you know I couldn't have told you, just as much as I couldn't tell him your secrets. And like I said, he asked about taking you to them, if you were alright with it. He looked so hopeful, Lin."

Lin glared at her piece of bread and hunched her shoulders, biting her lip. "Gate. How do we fix it?"

"My spell-crafters are working on it as we speak, in shifts."

"When will it be done?"

This, Lin was definitely not going to like. "Days. Maybe a week."

The poor abused food was crushed. "...What?"

"Have you ever played with a block puzzle, with notches on the inside and carvings on the outside, the kind that you combine the pieces to build a decorated cube? Just, any block piece puzzle?"

"Most of your Temples are filled with them." Lin snapped, a rare show of scorn curling her lip. "So?"

"Imagine the inner notches have no rhyme and the outer carvings are invisible, and both sides look identical. That gate has collapsed like a glass bottle, and there's no sure way of putting the pieces back. If the magic that'd held them together in the first place could be seen, the process would be much faster, but…"

"So the best person suited to the job," the adventurer summarized, "Is the guy that's been kidnapped in the first place."

"Yes."

Lin looked as if she could have said a lot of things, all of which particularly vile. "Perfect. So what am I meant to do till it's complete?"

"You could study Calatia's terrain? I hear it's warmer, a touch more arid than Hyrule, so foraging may prove difficult. Studying ahead should help you survive," Zelda suggested, having already mulled over this very conundrum. Leaving an agitated Lin alone was equivalent to leaving an agitated puppy alone; she would find something to chew on, and Zelda would not like it. "I'd requested a list of properties and holdings under Zant's name, to look for evidence regarding his treason, and that should be flown over sometime today. You could probably narrow down where Tharlaigh might be held, and use the next few days to prepare for departure. Service your weapons, collect provisions, and other such things. I'll give you anything you need."

Lin grunted, tossing the disfigured roll onto the desk, her unhappy frown advertising what she thought of Zelda's suggestions. But then she stilled, her frown shifting meaning, and Zelda found herself feeling nervous.

"...Lin? What are you thinking?"

"I need to go to Kakariko. Thanks for the tips Zelda," she added, retaking the abandoned roll and stuffing her face with it. "Foh va woad."

The Princess rolled her eyes. "Don't talk with your mouth full."

"Muh-huh. Wuv you mom."

"I love you too, my little bunny honey-comb."

Lin swallowed, looking disgusted. "Would you actually call your daughter that?"

"If she acts out as much as you do? Of course."

Lin grinned. "You'd make a great mum. And I'd make an awesome aunt."

"Just go already," Zelda sighed, waving her off, "Be careful out there, and you will have no say concerning my hypothetical daughter's upbringing!"

"Good luck with that!" responded the rapidly disappearing adventurer, and Zelda wondered what could possibly be available only in Kakariko.

-.-'-.-'-.-

"Nayru's Judgement."

No no no no nonono went Tharlaigh's mind even as he scrambled up from the floor, grabbing for Lin as she collapsed. She looked terrible; her cracked lips were bleeding, she visibly lost weight (how? HOW?) and her sunken eyes were bruised, hollowed cheeks pale, hands like a crone's and just as fragile and what the hell had she done?

He looked, really looked. The crystals that surrounded, no, covered Vhighew and the Darknuts, it wasn't, just Faerie magic. He had to squint, to see the sharper spine of the spell, the fibre of the net of magic, and a chill swept down his bones.

Time magic. Time magic.

"No no no no no," he shook her shoulder as she lay there, deathly palor set deeply in her skin, "Lin if you're still feeding this stop it right now or you will die you stupid overeaching-"

She coughed, still unconscious.

Distance. Distance might save her. He dragged her back awkwardly, feeling still returning to his fingers from that pressure-point attack and he looked and looked, but there didn't seem to be any more magic leaking from her so he pulled her up against a wall, made her sit up, pressed a hand to her mouth to see if she was still breathing.

Very, very faintly.

They'd been stripped of their equipment, including potions, so there was nothing he could do. Nothing.

"Oh don't you dare do this to me Garden Girl," he muttered at her, slapping her face gently, making her eyelids flicker, but nothing more. Did he dare move her? He checked for enemies, of which there were none, not after her invocation (this was far beyond the scope of a mere spell), and the doors were (probably) sealed so an ambush was unlikely. He couldn't look for their equipment without her; what if she died? He couldn't move her either; what if she died? He had to do something; what if she died?

But there was nothing he could do. He could do absolutely nothing.

Ladies above, no, no, no.

"Lin. Lin. Wake up." He tapped her face again, shaking her shoulder, "Please. Come on."

He could barely breathe. She screwed her face up, and she wept, but her eyes were firmly shut. She nodded, nothing more. Hope strangled his voice. "You insane woman."

She smiled. The nerve of her. "Than's."

"Your welcome. How…" how are you not dead was possibly the worst thing to say. "...Are you feeling?"

Because that was so much better.

She may have tried to gesture before saying: "What happn'd to th'... bastard…?"

"I think you froze him."

She coughed, her face twisting with disgust. Still, her eyes remained closed. This was not encouraging. "I… I k-killed him…?"

"Nah, you just froze him," Tharlaigh said, pushing down the high note of hysteria, "In time."

Her face said, oh, please.

"Take a look if you don't believe me."

She shook her head, another tear rolling down her cheek. "Tired."

"You…" what could he do? What else could he do? "Want to get back to sleep?"

She nodded. Drooped.

"Go ahead. I, I'll keep watch. We'll be okay, you froze the surrounding guard with him. Just, wake up, alright?"

She didn't respond.

"Promise me you'll wake up."

She didn't respond.

"Damn it."

He clawed at his marred face, looking around. There really was no threat anymore, just statues of monsters frozen in time, a stick and a sword abandoned on the floor, and them, just the two of them. What could he do? What could he possibly do?

Make her comfortable. As ridiculous and useless as it was, it was the only thing he could do.

So he glanced at the cloths that had draped his uncle's throne; all trapped there under the crystals. He wasn't wearing any extra clothes, so he couldn't make her a pillow, either. Just offer himself as one.

So, hands shaking, he did exactly that. He eased her to the side, sitting beside her, tilting her head till it rested on his lap. And he just, sat there, draping an arm over her torso, feeling the rise and fall of her breath.

He would fall asleep there, exhausted with worry.

-.-'-.-'-.-

Tharlaigh woke up to his head pounding, his stomach roiling, and his hands untied.

Scrambling to the side he promptly puked, bile burning his neck. For a moment he was in a stranger's room but it morphed into his own, which still felt strange since he'd only recently moved in. Everything about it felt wrong; probably why he went out for a lot of drinks last night.

His wrists felt strange. And he was starving.

"Morning Tharlaigh," said a chipper voice, making him wince.

"Princess," he croaked, holding his pounding head.

"Oh do stop, we're cousins, aren't we?"

"Distant. And still strangers."

"Which is why I've had lunch brought to us here, so I can get to know you." she said, waving a hand over the small table at which she was perched, soups and toasted breads and juices all artfully set for consumption. "What would you care for?"

"...Do you have any sense of privacy?"

"In another timestream we shared a bed, so, not really. Nothing inappropriate, of course. We were tramping down the Gerudo Gorge, and there wasn't enough camping space."

Tharlaigh groaned. This Princess, since the very moment they'd met (four weeks ago for the very first time, might he add) kept spouting strange nonsense like this, and the familiarity was bordering on creepy. "...Right."

"Have some tea."

He shuffled off the bed, wincing when his legs barely moved as instructed; it felt like he'd been lying catatonic for days, not hours. When he collapsed on the chair his head was practically splitting open with pain.

"Did you always have orange hair?"

"What are you talking about?"

He ground his forehead into the table, gripping his head. "Nevermind. Just, hungover."

"Soup? Tea?"

He grunted, and ate, and kept rolling his wrists because he couldn't shake off the feeling that they felt strange. He saw her mouth move and he got the vague impression that they were speaking, but he couldn't say what they were talking about (the legality of his drinking, maybe? Either way, he was allowed to in Sheikah culture, it wasn't his fault that he had to drink more of the weak Hylian stuff to get properly sloshed) and then he was shepherded to bed, and he-

Sheik lashed out, but too late. He was already back on the bed, freshly tied back up.

Midna cackled. "Oh that was hilarious. You actually thought you were fifteen! That I was Zelda! And what was she saying? Oh I can't wait to find out."

Sheik roared and fought, banging the frames of his hatefully comfortable prison against the wall, but the Skultulla silks held. When he stopped he stopped out of exhaustion, arms trembling, sweat beading his forehead. His fingertips were numbing. Panic and fear soured his blood.

Just how far had his defenses fallen? Just how long had he been kept here now?

Practically all the way, his gut told him, and at least another day, maybe two, if he'd been mind-warped into doing as told, to eat and drink and sustain himself…

Sheik shuddered. If she so desired, Midna could make him go home, make him steal anything, kill anyone, and he wouldn't be able to stop it.

Gods, no, Lin, Lin. Help me.

"No, no, no…"

"Yes, yes, yes," she crooned, sitting back, drinking that godsdamned tea. "So, time magic. I admit I was rattled when I saw that, but… Garden girl, Lin, and Hero. All the same person, correct? After all, that sort of power is reserved for those in favour with the gods, and it explains the disguise. I'm right, aren't I?"

"Not even close," Sheik lied, without a single note of conviction.

Midna giggled. "So, I need her to reverse what was done to father, he's not dead, and, all I need now is his location. Won't you just give it to me, Tharlaigh? It'd save both of us some indignity."

Sheik shuddered again. "No."

"Oh, fine," she sighed, finishing her drink and standing up, cracking her knuckles to boot.

-.-'-.-'-.-

Midna lurched back screaming, clutching her face.

Sheik breathed in with grim satisfaction, though his innards shuddered. Already it was the fourth time. He wondered how many more repetitions he'd have to endure before Midna gave up on that train of thought.

"Damn it!" Midna shrieked, tears marring her rage, "Why can't I see anything else?"

"I don't get much beyond that day whenever I hear his name. Good luck finding his location."

"WHERE IS HE?"

And Midna dove in again, her grip on his head so tight it practically tore his hair out. But still all that was brought forward was his audience with his mother's younger brother and his family, Tharlaigh greeting Lord Vhighew Marius Zant for the first time. How Tharlaigh had noticed the strange mist around his uncle, pointing it out to father, who shushed him, and then to mother, who frowned, mentioning that Lord Zant couldn't do any magic. Which couldn't be true, because over the next week and the following month, Tharlaigh saw time and again the influence Lord Zant had had on his staff, and family, and other lords.

Tharlaigh had asked his uncle directly what kind of magic he was using all the time and he had nearly been killed for his trouble.

He would never forget how much it had hurt. He would never forget how hard father had fought to get them out of that mansion full of mind-warped staff-turned-soldiers, how mother had screamed in horror when his bandages finally came off, and he would never forget, never forgive the fact that Vhighew had not been punished for his crimes.

This memory was his spite incarnate, his final wall. Sheik wished Midna luck, trying to scale it.

-.-'-.-'-.-

Okay you could potentially argue that nothing much happened in this chapter, but I really needed this bit to set up for the next two chapters. Also character development?

Chapter 4 was an absolute delight to write, and I really hope you guys enjoy it once it's up.

Well first I hope you enjoyed THIS chapter. Or not? TELL ME ABOUT IT!

Have a nice day, all,

S.S.