I though I might update tomorrow, but hell, why not today. I'm a sad person and I look forward to emails letting me know people like the story and stuff. Because I have apparently nothing else to look forward to, lol.

ANYWAY.

I have to admit, I have favourite chapters. This is one of them, since the bad guy was fun to write.

Also, he IS an existing character in the Zelda Universe. I hope you can guess who he is.

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Other Perspectives - 6 of 8

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"Ow, ow, ow," she whimpered, cradling her eyes. He pressed a fist against his mouth, eyes wide with mirth, as the practically prepubescent boy stammered apologies.

She thought he was insane? Gods. She was coming absolutely unarmed, a fact that her companions (her rescuees, he supposed) had vehemently argued against, arguments which she had waved off. She was right, of course. All her weapons would have been taken away if she really had been captured, and there was no point taking in precious objects and possessions when they were bound to be confiscated.

But still, walking into a den full of thieves and slavers with hands bound and no backup? Deliciously mad.

"I'm never getting in a fight with you," she grumbled, gingerly touching her already swelling eyes. "You punch well."

And the apologetic boy had the audacity to look pleased despite it all. A compliment-starved idiot, that one. The Hylian requested the remaining red potion, and dabbed it on her face. She picked up a coil of rope from the ground, and had the adult male tie her hands behind her back, a trail of rope left behind for him to hold, probably. Once done she approached his prison, looking childishly determined. The red potion was already doing its work, but slowly. In a few hours, maybe in a few minutes, it would look days old.

"Clever," he noted, "Makes it seem like I captured you days ago."

She glared at him from under her puffed and bruising eyelids, and he couldn't contain his snort.

"I'm releasing this," she said, toeing the blue crystal wall, "So be ready to go."

"I did say it was a few hours of hard riding away; won't we be taking your horse?"

"She'd trample you. We're going by magic."

"Ah," he said, suppressing a shiver of delight. Travel magic. Another aspect of fairy magic, one duplicated only by tedious spellworks and gates. And this girl could do it on a whim? Glorious. "If I try to escape?"

"I'll burn you alive."

She wouldn't unless she absolutely had to. This whole ridiculous plan that wasn't even a plan hinged on his co-operation, and they both knew it. Then again, they both knew that her power far outranked his own, though by how much only he knew.

Besides, she was hilarious, this, Lin.

"Of course. Now, how will you do this?"

She cancelled the spell, he was told to think of a secluded spot close to the slave-pens, and a place flitted through his mind, and just as quickly they flitted there, in a splash of green light.

She exhaled, deeply. "Now take me."

A grin raced across his face, but he decided not to make the very obvious comment. Instead he brushed a hand over her arm and watched her give a visceral shudder, staggering back and tripping over the loose end of the rope. She didn't fall, however. Shame. "And don't touch me!"

"I'm afraid I would have to, if you want this to be convincing. Also, how's your Sheikah?"

She told him not to touch her in his native tongue, with hardly a foreign inflection. "Convincing. Anything else?"

She growled, one eye's swell receding, her dark blue eyes icy with murder. "I'm not your singing owl."

"But you're my prisoner, aren't you?" he chuckled, slipping through space, coming up behind her, taking her bound hands firmly in his own. "And prisoners do as they're told."

Another visceral shudder. "How-? Get away from me!"

"Sheikah," he reminded her, shoving them out of the treeline and into the view of the meat-market. It sprawled there like a corpse left on the riverbank by the prairies, flies and maggots crawling through its flesh. Boats docked in the shallows slipped through the reeds, carrying fresh slaves onto larger boats in the deeper waters before they in turn left for the cities of Kanalet or the shores of Outset. He was not exactly fond of this place, but it was a good source of revenue, and information. He knew most if not all of the prominent buyers now, so perhaps this was a good opportunity to distance himself from this place. He'd been getting bored with his men as well, so leaving them at the mercy of this girl's clan was almost… convenient.

Speaking of the clan. "How did something so interesting like you get caught up in a Sheikah problem?"

"I'm a something?" she snarled, wriggling, fighting his touch. He poked her back with barely a finger and she hissed like a wild thing.

"You're certainly an enigma," he chuckled, wrenching the ropes and making her gasp, "And obviously wasted on this boy. He doesn't love you that dearly, does he?"

"What?" she sounded incredulous rather than insulted, trying to turn to meet his gaze, "He's, wait, what? How would you know?"

"You, working so desperately to get his sister back. Why not work with him? Because you don't want him to know that you let her slip away, am I correct?"

She 'tch'ed, still struggling, trembling, feet trying to take desperate purchase over the dusty path as they approached the edges of the complex, full of people and creatures in chains, wooden cages made a tad too small for any adult, making them stoop, making them seem smaller, more animal than mortal.

Blithely he continued on, eyes lazily scanning the buying and selling crowd, the merchandise being bought and sold. "The fact that you have to prove yourself, redeem this mistake for him to continue caring for you, well. It only goes to show that he doesn't truly love you, doesn't it? Tubert is adamant that he killed you, and I believe him. I believe you did come back to life from the brink of death, which is, frankly, quite absurd when I say it out loud. You would do all that for your boy's sister, but there's a high chance that he would reject you after all this? Wasted. Absolutely wasted on him, you are."

"Shut up."

He jerked her against him, her back pressing against his chest, and he hissed in her ear even as he felt her quake with what he imagined was terror. "I would accept you, Lin. You wouldn't have to prove yourself with me, you've already done enough. The fact that he is so blind to your dedication only proves him to be an idiot with the brainlessness of a Stalfos."

"I've got nothing to prove."

"Yet here you are, going in alone. Is this your idea of self-recrimination? Because I must say, you don't do things by halves, do you."

She kicked away with a barely bit back screech, pulling and raging at her leash as a dog would. Her wrists must be going through hell. "Why not just get Fi for me if you care so much."

"I'm of the opinion that he deserves to lose you and his sister on the same day," he shrugged, smirking at her, knuckles white from keeping her in place. She may have been strong, but he was stronger. "And you deserve better."

"I sure as hell don't deserve a slaver."

"I could stop," he offered, because he really was planning to, now, even as he marched her to the Sheikah section of the pens. "I've been thinking of washing my hands of this business, perhaps go into… adventuring. This place makes you appreciate your freedom more, does it not?"

She snarled.

"Last chance. I can hand you in, and you can carry on with this mad plan, or we could slip by, and I can show you what I can do, and you can show me, and we will have freedom that mere peasants dream of. You can turn me into a better man, if you were so interested in trying."

"Or I can forget you exist once we part ways."

He laughed. "I was wondering about that. So you do plan on letting me go."

"As if I have a choice."

"True," he chuckled, and whispered in her ear: "Squirm."

She did, though involuntarily. He grinned and greeted Onox, big man with an even bigger temper, keeping this rather thrilling girl secure all the while. "Onox."

He grunted, looking briefly up from his ledger.

"I have a young boy for you. Fifteen years old, at the oldest. I brought it ahead to keep it from influencing the others. Careful, he bites."

"Fi!" she hollered at the cages, fighting like an eel out of water. "Fi!"

He imagined the expression on her when she realised that it had all been a lie, and the smirk slashed sharp and wide across his face.

Business as usual.

Onox took her chin in his rough hand and she roared, vitriolic swearing one would expect of war veterans pouring out of her mouth, telling Onox not to touch her.

Casually, the large man slapped her. She fell to the ground, gasping.

"It's Hylian."

"What?" he replied with feigned surprise, pulling at her hair and forcing her to meet his gaze. He leaned in, unnecessarily close, and the red potion had done its job; she looked like a remlit, two bruised eye sockets framing those blessed eyes. Ah, what a waste, if only they'd met in better circumstances.

Then again, what circumstances would have been more interesting than this?

"Huh. You're right," he drawled, letting her go, "Its eyes were swollen shut for the whole time, so I couldn't see his Sight, which might explain the mishap… but his Sheikah is so very good. And he was with the clan the whole time, and he's insisting on looking for his sister…"

"Name," Onox said, in his limited Sheikah. He was already scribbling in his book, taking down her approximate measurements and age, and potential talents.

She spat blood, her gaze blue hot murder. "Link Hasheik."

"Ah, adopted orphan," he nodded, commending her clever use of the term, "Must have been raised as one of the clan from a young age. You speak Common, boy?"

She glowered at him. "Go to hell."

"Already you know he's pretty useful, speaking two languages," he wheedled at Onox, even as he tapped Lin's wrists and sent shadows crawling over her skin before grabbing them and forcing her to stand, "And I know for a fact that he's decent with a blade, has rudimentary knowledge with magic… why not sell him as a mercenary? Or a guard? Either way, he'd go for a high price, especially with his potential shelf-life."

Onox grunted, wrote him a price, passed it over.

He 'tch'ed. "This is a pittance. He's worth twice this."

Onox's lip curled as he grabbed the Hylian and shoved her into the cage, she barely avoiding knocking her head on the low ceiling.

"Fine, fine, I guess he's not up to par with my usual quarry… my men will arrive some time tonight with the rest. Genuine Sheikah, not adoptees, obviously. This one was the only child I was unsure of. Now if you'll excuse me, I'll be cashing this in."

And he nearly left, just like that, but it occurred to him that though he knew her name, she didn't know his and that seemed a little… unsatisfying. When they first looked at each other… there had been such a thrill, like nothing he'd ever felt before, something he could happily obsess over for months, if not years. But she also seemed the type to hold a grudge, if her glare was anything to go by, so perhaps some prudence was in order…

Especially when he felt the spell die.

She must have felt it too, because her eyes widened and their eyes met, and he saw her mouth no, arms tensing as she flexed them, still tied firmly behind her. His own spell flared and he laughed.

He circled round to the back of the pen, where the girl followed. "What did you do? What did you do to me?"

"I bound your magic," he replied, unable to stop his own chortling, marvelling at the nerve of her, anger curdling with his amusement. "You tried to track me, didn't you? You placed some magic on me, to capture me once you were free. Oh I knew you were a clever, clever girl."

She had gone dangerously pale, and her breath came in little rabbit-ish gasps, and it was positively tantalizing to watch.

"But you see, I'm quite clever myself," he simpered, raising his hand and making diamond jet shadows play over his palm, "And being a Sheikah with limited magic, you learn to… even out the playing field."

She kicked the bars, her expression practically animal in its wrath.

"I must admit, I did it mostly to make things more interesting for you. Give you a bit of a challenge in finding your sister. But now that I know what you had in store for me…? Why, I feel betrayed, Lin. Where's the trust? Here I was, thinking that we could travel together, learn from each other, grow such a bond that the world would be envious of… I guess I'll just have to settle for, hm, how do they say it in Common? Ah, yes, the one who got away."

"No you won't," she promised lowly, and he could actually feel it become their own personal oath, "I'll find you."

"I look forward to it," was his malicious response before walking away to cash in her price.

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I was neck deep in it, now.

Whatever he'd done to me, it was nothing like anything I'd dealt with before.

But, oh, it brought to mind a memory, when Navi was forced away in a torrent of foul magic, leaving me to face a disturbing hybrid creature of man and monster and god, alone, and I a child in a body too big for me, a child with a magical toothpick for a weapon.

Alone, alone, alone.

Black terror was scratching at the corner of my eyes, gripping my pulse and strangling me raw. I tried using magic again, but it wasn't there, there was nothing. If there was pain I could work around it or through it but I couldn't do anything with nothing.

I was trapped in a cage too small for me with strangers inside and monstrous people outside everywhere and I had no way to protect myself, help, help, somebody anybody help me please I can't breathe I can't breathe-

Someone tried to touch my shoulder. I kicked them in the face.

"Woah!" he said, barely dodging, crying out more words in Sheikah.

"Don't, don't touch me," I managed to hiss between gasps, gripping the bars behind me, barely standing upright. I was shaking, quaking, jerking like a nervous bird and I hadn't been this terrified in years, Navi, Navi, goddesses I miss you. "Don't, no touch, no, no,"

I think he was telling me to calm down, because I understood calm, but he kept repeating this word, meha, or something, but I found myself following that word, slowly, in, out, matching my breath with that rhythm.

Oh, was it breathe? Or in, and out? I collapsed, catching my breath, and the blackness receded by a little. I looked at this man, crouching in front of me, hand still raised but placating, and most importantly not touching.

Our eyes met. He was surprised. "You're not Sheikah."

That I understood. That practiced phrase sprung out, so very useful, and so very familiar. "Hello, my name is Lin Knightly. Please speak slowly, my Sheikah is bad."

He frowned. "I heard Link Hasheik."

I didn't know how to say I was in disguise, that this was meant to be a rescue. "Said, not true. Not truth? Looking, girl. Name is Fi. My... my friend."

His frown deepened. "Your accent."

"I only know some phrases," I replied, gripping the bars behind my back tighter, "Practice. Know some words, but only little. Need more practice."

He nodded, slowly, and took a step back. I shuddered with relief, and scooted my hands over the bars, using them for support to stand. Well, crouch. The cage's ceiling was too low for that.

"You?" I asked, eyes scanning this large man, with dark wild hair and dark wine eyes, a full mouth in a grim line, earthy clothes sombre… religious? "Name?"

"Renado."

"From where?"

He replied with pain and hopelessness with words I hadn't learned yet. I interrupted him, because there was no point in him speaking if I didn't understand. "I don't understand, I'm sorry. Do you speak Common? I am from Hyrule."

"Hyrule?" he blinked, and blessedly spoke words I could actually understand. "Why are you here, so far from home?"

"On a rescue mission."

"You were captured while on a mission?"

"This is the mission." I said, taking a deep breath. Right. Right. I'd been captured before. I'd been without weapons before. Admittedly, I usually had something to fight back with, but like that bastard had said, it was just… a new challenge. I braced my feet, estimated the height between my head and ceiling, and jumped, knees tucked into my chin and bound arms looping under my feet, bringing them in front of me. Well, Arn sure knew how to tie his knots.

"I'm looking for my friend's sister. Her name is Fi, she's maybe fourteen or thirteen, she has blue hair and was brought in sometime last night, or early this morning. She…" for the first time I really looked around the cage, perhaps a little larger than an average cell at Hyrule Castle, but there was only five people here, not including myself, and all of them were male. "...She's not here."

"No."

Bastard must have told Noxo or whatever his name was that I was a boy on purpose, just for this. Oh I look forward to throwing him in jail when this was all said and done. "Which cage is for the girls?"

"There are no other cages for Sheikah, my boy."

My blood started freezing, glooping into slushed ice. "There must be. She's not here."

"I am afraid there isn't. The man that brought you here, he was the one that told you this? That the girl you were looking for was here?"

Had he lied? Had he lied to me? Was Fi actually dead and rotting somewhere in the swamps and I was here, stuck here bound, letting the chances I had at reviving her slipping away? I was nodding, and I could feel the blood draining down my face and this could not be happening.

I couldn't lose her. Not just for Sheik's sake.

"Haven't there been any new Sheikah?"

"I arrived two days ago, and since then, only you have come."

"...Oh. I, see."

My stomach was a pit, my knees threatened to fold, and the world was immeasurably bleak. What was I meant to do? What could I possibly do?

I think I was silent for a very long time, because Renado stepped a little closer, looking concerned. "Are you…?"

"I, I need to think. I just, need to think."

I picked a corner that nobody was skulking in, and sat there, hugging my knees.

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The green lights faded, sending terror racing through his veins.

"We're nearly there," Fi said, which mitigated it somewhat, because maybe she heard them in the underbrush and cancelled the spell herself, Farore let your agent be there or else he didn't know what he was going to do-

The stream that Fi had described was there, and drinking from it was Epona.

Epona. Goddesses she had to be close by, had to be.

He raised his fist, signalled the rest of the fighters, and they spread along the banks. The mare seemed fine, in fact Tharlaigh got the impression that the chestnut was staring at him, generally unimpressed. Beside her was Ciela, unbound, and she noticed Fi's hair.

"...Fi? Fi!?"

It turned out that stealth was unnecessary; the kidnappers had been roped together, and every single one of them had a broken leg. The two other teenagers were safe, and the other two adults from the Grimdust Clan were just as relieved to be found. The teenagers burst into tears and hugged each other and were immeasurably glad that none of them were dead.

Tharlaigh immediately went to the adults, his fisted hands trembling. "The owner of that horse. Where is she?"

They told him about the story she had been fed by the ring-leader, that Fi had been taken to the slave-traders ahead of everybody else and… the worst part was the plausibility, Lin asking someone to punch her in the face, twice, risking herself alone and bloody unarmed on the slimmest of chances that whoever this ring-leader was, was telling the truth.

He dropped to a squat and fisted his hair and despaired. They'd missed her by ten minutes, maybe less. If only he'd been faster.

Tharlaigh stood up, thanked them, and eyed the trees, but Farore's Path, green pointers that she'd left for him to follow, pointers which only he could see (which made it very hard to convince his fellow clansmen to go where he told them to) were all gone. He wouldn't be finding her that way.

What did that mean? Did the distance make it too much for her to maintain? Or was she at the point that more magic was simply too much?

"Groose," he called, marching towards the older man, "The location of the slave-trade, have they confessed yet?"

Groose replied in the negative, and Sheik eyed them all, one by one, and told them in Common exactly what he would do to them if they didn't spill where the bloody hell their ring-leader had taken the girl.

They leered, made comments. Tharlaigh grabbed one, didn't even choose, didn't really look, and dragged him into the tree line.

Groose looked actually concerned. "Tharlaigh…? What're you-"

"Lin's not just the Royal Messenger to me, Groose. I don't have time. Just do me a favour, and get Fi out of earshot."

Still, it was hard not to hear the screaming.

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All the cages were made of wood, except the one that contained the curious creatures. The iron-barred enclosure was only an armspan away from their own, close enough that the Hylian could ping his fingernails against the bars to gain the trapped creatures' attention. They seemed to be sentient trees, with yellow eyes that seemed to glow, bodies that consisted mostly of a head with limbs sticking out, and tufts of leaves and flowers for hair.

The Hylian boy was talking to them.

It was absurd; their language was barely a language, full of pops and stops and clicks and squeaks, and the scrubbish fellows had been just as shocked to hear it be spoken by the boy. But once started they would not stop; at least, until another larger grander looking sprite came and collected them with Hylian rupees, and they handed him something before they scarpered.

It happened so quickly that the retainers didn't notice the small transaction, and the blond boy grinned into his bound hands, blue eyes alight with renewed fire. He was rubbing the contraband onto his bonds.

"Dare I ask what you are doing?" Renado sighed, sitting next to the boy. His eyes flickered to him, and shrugged.

"Bomb-flower pollen."

He wondered whether he was meant to know something from that, but could not work up the energy to enquire further. The other four men huddled in chains had been bought and sold more times than they wished to speak of, their spirits broken, hope lost. Renado wondered whether he could endure to avoid becoming like them, but already he was aching with despair. He missed his daughter.

He smelled cooking, like a pot left on the stove for too long, and when he glanced down the boy's bonds were loosening, falling apart strand by strand, strange sand-sized cinders eating through the rope.

Renado's mouth opened a little. "How…?"

"How what?" was his gritted response, tearing his wrists about and around, watching Onox, but their keeper did not turn. "Like I said, bomb-flower pollen."

"How did you know they would have it?"

"They all have it round these parts; it's a snack."

Those creatures ate? "How were you able to ask?"

"I was raised in the Lost Woods," he muttered, straining and tearing, breaking through the bonds. "You wanted to trade, you spoke Kikwi."

"Kick…?" Already it was almost too much information to handle. Being raised in the Lost Woods equated to being raised by curses and the wandering dead, and those creatures traded? What did they trade? Wood?

"Local dialect."

They had various dialects?

"...Who are you?" Renado whispered, as finally, his bonds snapped.

He did not reply for a while, hissing at his chafed wrists. There were strange marks ringing his skin, arcane sentences that emanated malice.

"I'm still figuring that out, sometimes," he grumbled, "But gullible idiot is high on the list."

And he settled again, hiding his free hands between his knees. Lin watched their retainer, sitting or standing at the gate of their pen, speaking only Common as other buyers passed by.

"Sight?" he enquired Renado, deeming Sheikah was safer.

The priest replied in kind, agreeing. He did his best to keep the words short, his sentences structured simply. "Nothing useful in this moment. Loss."

He scratched his hair. "Loss."

"Grief. Sadness. Loss like shadows," Renado explained, tapping the ground where his own shadow lingered, "Lose family, or friends, when loved ones die, shadows are deeper, darker."

The Hylian nodded slowly. "Me?"

Renado glanced at the shadow this Hylian trailed behind him, deep and dark enough to have an oily viscosity to it. He usually saw that kind of shadow trailing warriors or madmen far, far older than this young boy. "You have lost much."

He snorted as if that was a decent understatement. "Mother," he added, slashing two fingers across his neck, the casual telling bellying the horror of the fact.

The priest had the feeling that that was the tip of the iceberg. "I am sorry."

"Years ago. You have family?"

"Daughter."

"Doubter?"

"Daughter. Little girl. Her name is Luda."

"Luda," he repeated, and inhaled. "We are going home, to Luda."

Renado couldn't find it in himself to tell this boy no, they were probably never going home. He looked hardly a few years older than Luda, yet this child had lost so much… Renado could not be the one to tell him he had lost his freedom, too. So he nodded, agreed, and the blue-eyed boy nodded back and was silent as a rock.

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I am a horrible person for enjoying making Lin's life a positive misery.

SO WHAT DID YOU GUYS THINK? And are you able to guess who the bad guy is? Tell me in the reviews! Obviousy I won't tell you the answer, since it'll be revealed in part 7, but would like to know what everybody thinks. :D

Oh man oh man oh man I am SO excited for the next chapter, because I had SO much fun writing it, and it's the climax, so everything comes together, and stuff.

Anyway, hope you guys liked!