((This chapter is being posted somewhat late—sorry. I injured one arm a few days ago, so I wasn't able to type with my left hand at all until I was allowed a smaller splint. But now I have more of a range of movement, so I can finally complete this one. Very sorry about the wait all the same. Also: I don't think I've ever given a time estimate of how long Sheik has known Ravio, but if I have, please ignore it. This chapter has the accurate amount of time. I don't know if any of you guys think I've had this thing planned out all the way through till the end but. Ha. I'm kind of. Figuring out a lot of this as I go tbh.))

Sleep eluded Sheik most of the night. No matter how much she told herself there was nothing she could have done to prevent Kakariko's fall, it didn't stop her from feeling guilty.

But as she woke from shallow sleep for the tenth time that night, she found that she wasn't the only one having trouble sleeping. Dawn had just broken, shining brightly over Solen—but it also revealed that Link was no longer in the room.

His bed was made, and his tunic was gone.

Sheik couldn't help but frown. Thinking back over the last few days, Sheik felt rising concern for her partner. Getting up before her wasn't a problem in itself, obviously—and it was nice when she didn't have to go through the trouble of waking him. But when it was barely dawn, and they were in a safe place, and it looked as though Link had already been up for a while?

She knew he had his own issues, and she wasn't going to intrude.

But Link was still her partner. And if there was a way she could help, she needed to find it. So, with that in mind, Sheik re-dressed herself, knowing she needed her mask and scarf if she was going to talk to anyone today. Between concern for Link and for Kakariko Village, her feelings would be far too difficult to mask without her actual mask.

As she was heading out the door, though, she heard voices coming from just down the hall. Sheik pressed against the wall and sidled down, careful not to make noise. She couldn't care less about an early-morning conversation between people she didn't know, after all, but she still didn't want to get caught.

It wasn't until she heard who was speaking though, that she stopped within hearing range.

"—oh, honey," Telma's voice was saying. "Was it the tunnels again?"

"It doesn't matter," Link said (and that was as good as a yes as far as Sheik was concerned). "It's too late to go back to sleep now. Sheik gets up insanely early. I don't want to come back and wake her."

Telma was quiet for a while, but when she spoke again, her voice was a sigh. "Well, I still have plenty to get done in the kitchen. You can always sleep in my room, honey, you know that."

"I know. I'd just—I'd rather not go back to sleep."

"Is there a reason they're getting bad again?" Telma asked, concerned. When Link was quiet for a while, Telma sounded, if anything, more worried. "Oh, honey… Don't tell me you went back to Ecchar with her."

"I didn't—I didn't see her there. It's fine," he said. "I mean—we went through the tunnels, but—"

"You went there?"

"We saved five girls all at once," Link said. "I promise you, it was worth it."

Telma didn't sound wholly convinced. "You don't need to go back there to prove anything, honey, you know that, don't you?"

"I'm not doing it to prove anything. As far as I know, I'm the only one outside of their group that ever knew the layout. If I hadn't told Sheik about the tunnels, I don't think we would have been able to save them."

"And what does she think about you returning there, hm? She's your partner. If she cares about you a whip, she wouldn't have risked your life like that—"

"Sheik?" Link sounded confused. "We've only been partners for a little while, why would I have said anything to her? I'm not planning on telling her, either. She's got her own stuff to deal with. The last thing I want is to make her feel bad about me just 'cause I can't handle some stupid…"

"It's not stupid," Telma said firmly. "They nearly killed you, honey. It only makes sense that you don't like them." When Link was sullenly quiet, Telma sighed and allowed the subject to drop. "Did you at least get some decent sleep while you were in that city?"

"We were only there for two nights. I'm fine, Telma. Honestly. Once we were out on the road—"

"Once you were out on the road, you slept because you were too tired to avoid it anymore," Telma cut in. "I know you, honey. You might still be young, but you need your sleep if you want a clear mind."

"I know, I know. It's just," he said, hesitating. "It shouldn't still bother me. It's been almost three years already! I should be past this by now."

By now, Sheik had heard far too much to risk getting caught. Their door was cracked open, and Sheik could make out Telma crossing the room to pull Link into a quick hug—meaning that Telma was facing away from the door, and Link was far too short to see over Telma's shoulders.

It would be the perfect opportunity for Sheik to leave. But as she held her breath and prepared to take that first step towards the stairs, she hesitated.

Even though she wasn't supposed to have heard any of that—and even though she knew Link didn't want her to know—Sheik's concern wouldn't allow her to leave. What she would say, she had no idea. She couldn't promise Link that they would never go to Ecchar again. She couldn't say that everything was going to be alright, because she had no way of knowing that. All she could do was promise to be there for him—and yet, he didn't seem to even want that, since he hadn't told her anything.

Sheik couldn't help but wonder if this was how Link had felt just a few days ago, when he'd offered his friendship and she'd refused to let him in.

But that was different, she reminded herself. She was the King's daughter. She couldn't tell him anything without risking her safety.

Link didn't know that, though. So to him, there was absolutely no difference.

Sheik set her lips into a thin line. She'd have to ignore everything she'd just heard, then. After all, though she knew he was struggling—and maybe she ought to let him sleep a little later while they were on the road—she still didn't know what had happened to him in Ecchar.

It was none of her business, and if she asked Link, he'd probably take it as an invasion of his privacy, just as Sheik had felt when he'd tried to ask her. She'd just have to put it out of her mind. To respect his past, and let it alone. And to do that, she'd have to leave before she heard more.

And yet, just as she was steeling herself to start for the stairs, Link spoke up again.

"I wonder if anyone else was kicked out," he said. "Just—if there's someone else that's… that's been through the same thing."

"Oh, honey…"

"I don't mean—I don't want someone else to have gone through the same thing, I just." Link's voice sounded strained, and Sheik had trouble making out his words. "—if he saw through her…"

"You know how well she hid things," Telma said, and Sheik could just barely make out her figure moving away from Link's. Dammit—she'd missed her opportunity to leave. "She probably told him you were dead."

"He was like family," Link said. "The only person there who actually cared about me, and I…"

"You couldn't have known that he was with her." She pulled Link in for another quick hug, half-facing the door this time. Sheik held her breath. "Ravio was a good man, from everything you told me. He might have left once he saw what Hilda was becoming. He might be in another city, hiding out for all we know. Have a little faith, honey, I'm sure he'll come around."

But Link's answer was drowned out by the names Telma had said.

Hilda could only be the full version of the name Link had started to call her, back in Ecchar. And Ravio's description of dark hair and red eyes… She must have looked like her that night—and for Link already being in Ecchar—

But it wasn't just Hilda's name that made Sheik's heart stop.

Because, between Ravio's description of Hilda, the woman in Ecchar, and his own reasons for wanting this to end, and—goddesses be damned, obviously his name—

"Ravio," Sheik said.

Both Link and Telma whipped around to face the door.

"I wasn't eavesdropping, I swear. I just left my room and was heading downstairs," Sheik said hurriedly. "But I overheard the name and—do you mean the pawnbroker on the other side of town?"

Link's eyes widened. "Here, in Solen?"

"Yes. I visited it just last night," Sheik said. "I've been doing business with him for—almost three years now. He's got dark hair and blue eyes… A bit taller than you, but not by much. Does that sound like—?"

In an instant, Link rushed past Telma to the door, grabbing Sheik's wrists as if he was afraid she'd leave before she answered him. "Where in town is he? Show me, please, I need to see him—"

"His shop doesn't open for another hour or two," Sheik said, taking a step back. Desperate as Link was, she still wasn't going to let him invade her personal space. "But I can show you once it's open. Who is he to you?"

Link didn't answer, instead just shaking his head. Sheik was alarmed to find tears in his eyes, a stark contrast to the smile he was sporting. Finally he pulled his hands away from her, using them to wipe away the beginnings of tears.

Telma stepped outside the door, suspicious eyes on Sheik. Whether she was doubting her promise that she hadn't been eavesdropping or doubted that Sheik knew Ravio, Sheik wasn't sure. But she knew Telma probably wasn't happy about her taking Link to Ecchar, even if she hadn't known about his rocky history with the place. "Ravio was like an older brother to this little one," she said, placing a hand on Link's shoulder and giving Sheik a meaningful look. "Link hasn't seen him for almost three years."

There was an unspoken threat there, Sheik knew. Don't get his hopes up for nothing.

Sheik had no plans to. "Well, he'll have a chance to see him later this morning," she said. "I can't be totally sure it's the same person, but…"

"It's worth a shot," Link said, expression brighter than she'd ever seen. "I can't believe—out of everyone, your pawner is Ravio of all people!"

"I was surprised when I heard his name, walking by," Sheik admitted, "But I shouldn't have been. Last night he mentioned Ecchar, and described the appearance that…" Not wanting to embarrass Link, or tell him that she remembered his sudden panic at seeing her with dark hair, Sheik shook her head and changed tracks. "…He gave me information about much of Hyrule, and seemed particularly interested in Ecchar, that's all."

Link looked grateful that she hadn't gone into detail—especially with Telma's gaze on the pair of them.

Telma's protectiveness over him was something Sheik couldn't help but feel somewhat jealous of, though, as she avoided Link's eyes and looked instead towards the stairs. He was loved, that was for sure. By Telma, by Ilia, and apparently even by Ravio.

It wasn't hard to figure out why. He was friendly and kind and protective of others—willing to put himself in danger to help people he'd never met, with absolutely no benefit or responsibility driving him. Not like the guilt and pressure that was driving Sheik. In all manners of speaking, he seemed to be like the heroes of old. A boy who came from nowhere, who simply wanted to help people because it was the right thing to do. No wonder so many people loved him.

Sheik pressed her lips into a thin line, forcing the thoughts out of her mind. It did her no good to be jealous. It was good that Link was loved and appreciated by those around him—especially since he'd clearly been through some difficult things earlier in his life.

Far be it from Sheik to come against the people who came alongside her partner.

But, as Link turned to Telma, chattering excitedly about meeting Ravio, Sheik couldn't help but feel like an outsider. So she tuned him out and excused herself, making her way hurriedly to the kitchen and bar downstairs.

The last thing she wanted was to put a damper on his happiness. This was a moment where he'd get to reunite with someone who was like family to him, in his own words. And she knew that if she stayed, she'd only end up dragging him and his mood down, no matter how glad she was that he'd found someone so precious to him.

So she'd stay out of the way for him, and let him celebrate with Telma. And later, when she led him to Ravio's shop, she was more than willing to stand in a far corner and just watch the pair, lest her moodiness interfere with Link's happiness there, too.

After all, what was a few more hours of loneliness to Sheik?

Besides—from afar, somehow it was easier to be happier for him. As she listened to Link's questions and hopes and worries, Sheik couldn't help but share a part of his joy. Even though Link was receiving such good news the day after Sheik had lost Kakariko, she couldn't find it in her to feel slighted—by Link, anyways. She felt the beginnings of anger at the goddesses, but far be it from her to share that with anyone.

Jealous or not, Sheik couldn't help but smile for him. Link was her partner, after all. And what kind of a partner would she be if she didn't feel happy for him?

At least a little, anyways.

Link's trembling hands were the first thing Sheik noticed as they approached the pawn shop. It wasn't fear that shook him, though—the excitement on his face was enough to tell her that. And yet, no matter how much he smiled, there was a nervous edge to it.

"You'll be fine," Sheik said. "From everything I've seen, he's completely harmless. The worst he'll do to you is hug you."

"I know that," Link said. His cheeks pinked, embarrassed by his over-excitement (and not for the first time that day, either). "Do you really think he'll recognize me, even if it is him?"

"You said it's only been three years. I can't imagine you'd look that different." Matter-of-fact as ever, Sheik's statement only prompted an eye-roll from Link. "What? People don't change nearly as much as they think they do."

"Well, I'm sure I did," Link said. "For one, I'm taller."

Sheik raised a brow. "Can't be by much, unless you were an absolutely tiny kid."

"I was fifteen when I last saw him, not a kid. And I'm not that short!" Link's lips formed a pout, and Sheik realized with a start that this pouting child was eighteen. His face seemed far too young to be eighteen, with his full lips and round cheeks and wide blue eyes. But even if he didn't look much older than sixteen, she knew he'd already earned his place as an equal. It was just surprising to know that he wasn't actually as young as she'd assumed.

He was still short, though.

But the conversation seemed to done its job, because while Link defended his height, he seemed to have pulled himself out of his worries. His hands had stopped shaking, she noted, somewhat proud of herself for distracting him. If she let him go back to his thoughts, though, he'd likely end up just as nervous as he'd been before. If cheap insults were what it took to get Link to relax, then she supposed she'd just have to continue.

(For some reason, though, the teasing seemed almost friendly, and Link didn't seem to be taking more than mild offense. Sheik took it as a go-ahead, a small smile under her mask.)

"I'm short for a Sheikah my age," Sheik said. "But most Hylian men at least match my height. And yet, you barely come up to the tip of my ears. If that doesn't count as short, then I'm not sure what does."

Link's expression suddenly brightened, and he rose to the tip of his toes as if trying to compensate for his limited height. "You just said you're short for a Sheikah! How can you insult me when you're short, too?"

"Because my size allows me to fit into smaller locations, which is advantageous to my culture and their tradition of hiding. Shortness isn't frowned on in my heritage," Sheik said. "Whereas Hylians seem to enjoy boasting about their size and strength so that everyone can look at them and praise them."

Link fell back onto his heels, practically pouting again. "Rude." When Sheik just raised a brow, Link walked a little faster, surprise on his face. "You really think Hylians act like that?"

Sheik sized Link up again, then shrugged. "Well. Most Hylian men do, anyways," she said. "I suppose you're the exception to the rule."

"Coming up a bit short with that stereotype then, huh?"

Link's bright expression spoke to her before his words even processed. She shoved his shoulder, ignoring his laughter as he straightened up and hurried after her.

Was this what Link was like when he was at ease? Sheik felt a pang in her heart as she realized just how serious and on-edge he'd been while they were in Ecchar. Her first encounters with him had been so lighthearted compared to how he'd been there. How had she not noticed that something was wrong?

His fear of being captured, the startled worry on his face at every dangerous plan she suggested, the outright anxiety attack he'd had when she came back with dark hair—

It had only been a few days ago, and yet Sheik felt guilt rising as she realized how little she had cared. How little she, a Sheikah, someone supposed to be perceptive, had noticed.

Telma's unspoken threats that morning may have been about not giving Link false hope, but the message Sheik received was one of an entirely different nature. Link was loved, and had many people who cared about his safety and wellbeing. Every moment he spent with Sheik was a moment he was entrusted to her by the people who cared for him. Though Link was clearly more than capable of defending himself so long as he had a weapon—Sheik winced at the memory of their first meetings—he was still just a boy.

Sure, he was eighteen. And, yes, Sheik had been living on her own for the last nine years, since she was just ten—making her only slightly older than him.

But he had people to come back to. And if Sheik had any decency in her at all, then she would make sure he came home to them.

She couldn't apologize for what she hadn't done, though. For what she hadn't felt. So Sheik held her tongue and continued walking, praying that her silence wouldn't undo the good she had done in distracting him.

But in her silence, and as they steadily approached the side of town that Ravio's shop was in, she could see the nervous energy returning to him.

Sheik looked away.

Before she even had a thought of what to say to put him at ease again, Sheik saw the sign over the top of Ravio's shop—and she knew Link couldn't have missed it. She approached slowly, giving Link as much time as he needed to take it in and look over it, in this tiny, downtown patch of Solen.

And as they approached the doorway, Sheik stopped when Link did.

"You… you go in first," Link said, sharply taking in a breath. "Let me just—I wanna hear his voice first. I wanna know if it really is him." He trained his eyes on the ground. "I don't want to even bother going in if it's…"

Sheik nodded. But before she opened the door, she turned and rested her hand on his shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. Touch was still quite foreign to her after so many years without it, but if it would help her partner (her friend?) get through this, then she was more than willing to try it.

It seemed to have made Link feel better, too—at least by a little. He managed a small, strained smile before taking a step back, giving Sheik room to open the door without Ravio being able to see Link outside.

"A customer?" Ravio asked, poking his head out of his office. "Funny, I don't usually get customers this early—Sheik?" He looked her up and down, a curious expression on his face. "Everything alright? You usually don't visit the day after you've already visited…"

As he stepped onto the shop floor, Sheik heard a startled breath from behind her. That was all she needed as confirmation, so she stepped aside. "There's… there's someone I'd like you to meet," she said, glancing at her partner, who looked more nervous than she'd ever seen him. But he walked forwards anyways, even if he seemed unable to speak. "He's my partner," she explained, and watched as recognition dawned in Ravio's eyes. "His name is Link."

No sooner than the words had left her lips, Ravio ran forward and lifted the shorter boy into a hug.

"I thought you were dead!" Ravio exclaimed. "You weren't—Hilda said—I mean, I saw, but—when I didn't see you, I thought—"

"You've been in Solen this whole time?" Link asked, blue eyes wide with surprise. "Why did you come to Solen if you thought I was dead? Why didn't you stay with—"

"Kid, I was the reason you came to Solen," Ravio said. "I set you up at that inn, paid the lady to take care of you till you were well—but I guess you were too beat up to remember. Thought you'd make your way back to stealing, since that was how we found you in the first place, so I…" He glanced around the shop, a sheepish smile on his face. "I figured it was the best way I'd find you again. This city is huge, and—with my history with Hilda, it's not like I can show my face in public very often. So…"

Link, though, didn't seem to process the other's explanation. If anything, he looked confused—completely stuck on one point. "You brought me here?"

"I left you at some inn near the middle of the city," Ravio said. "Then I booked it back to Ecchar so Hilda wouldn't think I was disloyal. But…" He shrugged, patting Link's shoulders. "I couldn't stay with her. She was going to just—to just let you die that night. I couldn't work with her anymore. So I came here, hoping you were still alive, but I never saw you again, so I thought you really had died. With the injuries you had…"

Link suddenly shook his head. He glanced quickly at Sheik, then away, his face burning after he realized she'd been listening. "Let's—Let's not talk about that night, alright? I've been trying for three years to forget it. It's the last thing I want to think about now that I finally… now that you're here."

Though the affectionate tones alone were enough to make Sheik uncomfortable, it was Link's clear discomfort at her presence that made Sheik want to leave. No matter how she wished he'd talk to her, she wouldn't stick around if she was making him nervous.

So she took a step away from the pair, passing close enough to Link that she could brush her hand against his shoulder again.

"I'll be outside," she said. "You two have a lot of catching up to do, don't you?"

Before Link or Ravio could say a word—either to tell her goodbye or do the polite thing and ask her to stay even though she wasn't wanted—she hurried out the door, closing it softly behind her.

It was better like this, Sheik knew. That way, she wouldn't eavesdrop and invade Link's privacy any more than she already had. And yet, as she climbed onto the rooftop and took a seat, she couldn't let go of what she already knew.

Her mind was swimming with names and places and facts—things that she knew, and things she wished she hadn't heard, and things she'd give anything to know more about.

Who was Hilda to Link? And who was she to Ravio?

From Link's descriptions of the tunnels in Ecchar, and how long it had been since he'd been back, and the time period he'd left Hilda—three years, three years, three years—she could only assume that he'd worked with her. That they had been in a criminal organization that utilized the tunnels underneath Ecchar. And from how they spoke of Hilda, it was probably a better guess that Link worked for her.

And Ravio must have been quite close to her, too. They had similar dark hair, so she wanted to assume that they were siblings. But then, Link and Ilia both had light hair, and Sheik was fairly sure they weren't related by blood, even if they had spent their childhoods together.

Sheik had tried not to think about it, lest she get too attached to her partner, but… knowing what Ilia had told her, the night she brought her away from Ecchar, and knowing that, according to Ilia, Link had been with her through it all… Sheik didn't want to think the idea through. That an organization of criminals would pick an orphan from the streets and train him to do their dirty work…

Link had been stealing when they found him the first time, Ravio had said. And the last time he'd seen him, Hilda had left him to die.

Sheik closed her eyes, forcing down the anger she felt on Link's behalf.

If she dwelt on it for too long, she knew she'd try to piece together how Hilda had hurt him. And that was something she wasn't sure she wanted to know.

It was too personal—too raw—too much of Link's story that he hadn't told her himself. Someday, he might tell her, but it wasn't the right time for her to ask. Not after that uncomfortable look he'd sent her. Not after he'd 'been trying for three years to forget about it.'

So instead, she took a slow, deep breath, and let herself think back to the childhood she'd lost. The one she'd left behind when Impa had died. It calmed her more than anything else she could do—more than any brave declarations that all she needed was her freedom. Those memories were more precious to her than any she could make with the life she had now.

Yet, as she tried to remember the lighthearted times, all she could think of was how similar this felt. Being the outsider on a hushed conversation she wasn't meant to hear—conversations that she desperately wished to overhear and understand.

But at least when she lived with Impa, sometimes she could sneak out of her room and listen anyways. Right now, Sheik couldn't bring herself to move.

"—Zelda's in bed, you menace. You have no right to be here as it is, but risking waking her—"

Zelda tiptoed, casting a silencing spell around her. It wasn't very big, and she wasn't entirely sure she'd canceled out all the noise, but so long as she tip-toed and went slowly, she should be fine. She just couldn't let Impa know that she was out of bed at this hour.

But the door had opened late at night, and she'd heard Impa angrier than she'd ever heard her before. She had to know what was going on if she was ever going to get to sleep.

Her papa had been angry and shouting the day he gave her away, after all. Zelda had been too young to understand or even remember what he'd been shouting about, but she'd heard her own name a few times. And now, she'd heard her name again.

What if Impa was also preparing to give her away?

Impa's voice was clear as anything, but Zelda couldn't make out the deeper one behind the door. Was Impa muffling his voice on purpose?

Zelda furrowed her brows, finding that her ears couldn't pick out his words no matter how she tried. Fine, then—she'd just have to pick out what he was saying from Impa's replies.

"She doesn't want to see you, even if she wasn't asleep." A pause. "You know damn good and well why she doesn't want to see you, you vile—!"

Zelda blinked wide blue eyes. Impa had cursed?

Half of Zelda wanted to believe that the man outside was her father, but Impa always spoke so kindly of him. She wouldn't curse him out, would she?

Above all else, Zelda trusted Impa's word. So if she was cursing at this man, it couldn't be the man she spoke so highly of. Besides, Impa knew how much Zelda missed her father. Surely she wouldn't be turning him away if it was him?

"She's happy here," Impa said. "I'm teaching her everything I'm supposed to, don't you doubt it. She's learning magic, which will do her a hell of a lot better than any royal training will. She isn't meant to be a Princess and you know it. She can do so much more than that."

Impa's words were making her head spin, and all Zelda could think was that this was a teacher who had come to check on her.

Maybe even one of the guards was here, delivering a message to her father. Maybe it was one of the guards she didn't like, which explained Impa's outburst of 'she doesn't want to see you.' Though, Zelda couldn't remember ever talking to Impa about any of the guards she'd liked or disliked…

Zelda bit her lip. Whether or not she liked the guard, she hoped it would deliver a nice message to her father. Even though she'd been away for two years, she still missed him.

She wrote him letters every day—to him, and to his wife, and to the little one they'd made shortly after Zelda had to leave.

She asked Impa every day if she had any news from the castle, or any letters back.

Even when Impa would read her bedtime stories, Zelda never failed to ask about the kings in those stories. (And, in the legend of the Hero of Time, Zelda always asked about that Zelda's heritage, and friends, and family. 'When the Hero was sent to his proper time, was the princess's father still alive? Did he care for her? Did he think of her often—?')

But every time she asked, Impa just gave her a kiss on the forehead and quickly finished the story.

Zelda twisted her hands into the skirt of her nightgown, too scared to risk peeking her head around the corner. No matter how much she wanted to see who it was, she was too afraid of who this stranger was that Impa seemed to dislike so much. But maybe… maybe it wouldn't matter if this was just a guard or her father.

Whoever it was… maybe they could at least deliver a message to the king. But as she looked back towards her room, to the just-finished letter she had written her papa, she knew she didn't have the courage to bring it to the front door.

After all, the king hadn't answered any of her letters. She sent them every single day without fail, and yet, not once had she gotten a response back. And she trusted Impa to send them, so she knew it couldn't possibly be a mistake from their end.

Zelda felt tears spring into her eyes. She quickly scrubbed them away, but the more she tried to get rid of them, the more they clouded her vision. If it weren't for her silencing spell around her, she was sure that Impa would have heard her crying by now. But with her emotions as they were, Zelda wasn't sure how much longer she could keep up the spell.

"You need to leave," Impa said. "Think good and hard about what your duty is. It isn't your place to interfere with fate. She's in good hands here—better than with your lot." And with that, Impa closed the door in the man's face.

Though Zelda still desperately wanted to see the man behind the door, she knew she'd missed her last chance. And that, even more than the hurt she felt from her unanswered letters, was what finally pushed her over the edge.

The silencing spell crumbled around her, and soon her cries reached Impa's ears.

"Oh, dear one," Impa said softly as she approached her, kneeling down next to her. "You didn't hear him, did you?"

Zelda shook her head, wiping away tears with her clumsy hands.

Impa gave a sigh of relief, but whatever she felt relief for, Zelda didn't know. "I had feared my voice woke you," she said. Seeing that her soothing voice alone wasn't enough to calm Zelda's cries, she reached forward and stilled the child's hands, skillfully brushing tears from her eyes. "How can I calm you, sweet one? You need your sleep if you're going to train tomorrow…"

The lump in Zelda's throat only got bigger the more she tried to swallow it. "My papa," she managed between gasps for air. "Was that one of his guards trying to see how I was? But—but why hasn't he written me back…? I want—I want him to talk to me."

Impa's brows rose in alarm as Zelda's cries became more desperate.

But she didn't answer her.

Instead, she gently picked her up and set her on her hip, resting one hand on her back. "Breathe, child," she said. "You'll be alright."

As Zelda slowly learned to breathe again, Impa brought her back to her room and tucked her in. Impa told her a story, same as always, but Zelda was only half listening.

Because, as Impa told her of princesses and heroes who saved the world all on their own, all Zelda could think about was Impa not answering her about the letters. She trusted her guardian with all the faith of a child—so she knew Impa would never lie to her. She had taken her in when her papa didn't want her anymore. Impa would never, ever tell her something that wasn't true.

But she also knew that Impa didn't want to upset her.

So if she hadn't answered her, than that meant her papa really wasn't going to write her back.

Long after Impa had kissed her forehead and told her goodnight, Zelda stared at the wall by her bed. Eventually the tears stopped, and the ache in her chest faded.

Her heart had been too sensitive for far too long. She'd hoped for too much, and that ache was her punishment—this loneliness was her punishment. Next time, she wouldn't hope for so much.

If Impa ever noticed that Zelda had stopped writing her papa letters, she didn't mention it.

It wasn't until she heard the door open below her that Sheik realized how tense she had become. Her brows were arched downwards with fierce anger, and her hands were locked with a white-knuckled grip on nothing. Slowly, she reminded herself to breathe, and that restored her somewhat, but it took a moment for her to relax her hands and face.

Idly, she wondered if the house she and Impa had shared still held the letters she'd written so long ago.

But Kakariko was gone now, she reminded herself. Vanished, without a trace. Her letters and the entire rest of the house were nowhere to be found because the entire city was gone.

Sheik felt a dull ache in her chest. There was no sense dwelling on it now, though. There was work to be done. And if Ravio and Link were done with their reunion—evident by the creak of the door below her—then it was high time for her and Link to decide where to go next.

"Sheik?"

She watched as Link came out of the building, looking all around but finding no one in sight.

Perhaps earlier it would have made her smile as she dropped down and landed just behind him, but right now, she could feel no joy in it.

"Are you finished?" she asked, lips not far from Link's ear.

The poor boy startled, though, and jumped nearly a foot into the air. She couldn't blame him, of course—there was suddenly voice in his ear when just a moment ago, there had been no one. "Give a guy some warning next time," Link said, but there was no real ire to his tone. He was too happy for that. And why wouldn't he be, Sheik reminded herself. He'd just reunited with someone he loved dearly.

Sheik couldn't ruin this day for him. So she forced her voice to even out. She couldn't bring herself to sound happy or exited, no, but she couldn't let him know how desperately she wished for Kakariko. For Impa. Even for… She squashed that thought down in an instant, not even allowing his title to enter her mind. "Are you ready to return to Telma's?" Sheik asked, unable to make eye contact. "Because if we're going to continue our jobs, we have a lot of work to do."

As she talked, though, Link searched her face. All too late, Sheik supposed that her flat voice and averted eyes were warning signs. "…Sheik," he started. "Did something…?"

"We need to decide what our next move will be," she said, cutting him off. "Whether we decide to go to Ise, or Marr—those are the cities I've heard the most about kidnappings happening. Or if we go looking for cities that have had strange things happening to them, like Oxon—I have a source telling me to look towards Sarin, or Tal. Or…"

"Kakariko," Link said softly. "You can choose to help them first, you know. I wouldn't mind."

Sheik kept her eyes trained to an apartment a block away, still unable to look Link in the eye. "Whatever would help the people who need it most," she said. "We had leads for Ise before anything else. We ought to go there before we even consider the other cities."

"It's past Zora's Domain, Sheik," he said. "It's pretty far from here… Let's consider everything, okay? We have plenty of time to decide today." When she didn't react, he took a step towards her, resting a hand on her upper arm. "I understand if there's a place you're not ready to see yet."

Sheik nodded stiffly, though she felt far too hesitant about her decision. "…We can consider all the options," she said, voice firm though her resolve was anything but. "But I want to be ready to go by morning. If we decide on Ise, we'll need winter gear. If we decide on Marr, we'll need plenty of rations—it's a long journey to the east and we'll be on the road for a while."

"And the other cities?"

"Sarin is on the way to Ise, and Tal isn't far from Marr," she said. "Whichever we decide on, we can hit something else on the way."

Link didn't look wholly happy about her decision, and Sheik knew it was because she was hiding something. But if he could keep his secrets, then she could damn well keep her own. So without asking if he was ready, she turned and started back for Telma's, Link trailing not far behind.

((Again, sorry this is so late, but I had an injury that prevented me from writing for a little while.

But to answer Davey: Thank you for your sweet words! I appreciate your kindness and encouragement, and hopefully this story will continue to live up to your expectations. There won't be anything explicitly sexual in this, though, and as for Sheik/Zelda… I can't give any spoilers. That is a huge plot point, and will greatly determine the ending.

Thank you all for your lovely reviews, though, and I hope this chapter didn't disappoint! Please, if you liked this (and if you didn't!) I would love to hear your thoughts! Thank you so much for sticking with me even though new chapters haven't been as fast recently.))