Chapter 19

Frustration, betrayal, misunderstanding; they could warp a man's mind to act irrationally. Auru was distinctly aware of that for the duration of what would turn out to be his most hair-curling mission yet. But all this paled when that same mind, which had the potential to brave such unpleasant but bearable emotions given enough exposure, was subjected to the potential loss of its own child. Now for a second time; the occasion was much more palpable than what mere suspicion and uncertainty could conjure up.

If anything, Auru could sympathise. But that didn't do anything to ease Rusl's crippling worry.

"There's a pack here!" came Humley's call from the valley curb when one of his faithful dogs trundled up towards him wagging its tail, enjoying its praise as it deposited the half-frozen bag at its master's feet. The bag in question had been emptied long ago by scavengers or monsters, but the distinct Ordonian weaving pattern was unmistakable.

Doubt was rekindled within Auru's stomach and formed a heavy clump inside it. Why hadn't he seen it coming? This was the second time that boy had eluded him. Only now, it looked like the ill-formed plan to sneak away from the Resistance had morbidly backfired; a testament to the youth of Link's mind still struggling to heft and balance everything it had been forced to shoulder.

Auru momentarily lost his footing on the snowy incline, wary of the mountain at his back. Too steep for snow to accumulate properly, and yet it came down anyway. What have I gotten us into?

"Careful, Sir," Ashei grumbled, her snow-shoes keeping both of them stable enough for him to regain his balance. "I swear, if I find that boy, I'll tear him a new one."

Auru shot her a look that singed, and she backed off, order well received. Far below them, accompanied by two of Humley's dogs, their fourth party member was trudging stiffly towards the cluster of pines in the valley's crook.

They reached him when one of the mutts started digging, churning snow as if possessed. Auru jogged the last couple yards and fell to his knees beside Rusl, joining the frantic excavation, praying to every goddess and protector and spirit he knew that their discovery would prove innocent. A rabbit burrow the dog had sniffed out, a piece of equipment that would lead them on to find a very live Link sheltering somewhere instead of a frozen corpse buried beneath half a ton of snow. When Rusl let out a cry of distress, Auru thought the ground slid out from under him.

"What? What is it?" Ashei called, her voice breaking with anxiety.

"Frozen blood," Rusl gasped, uncovering beads of it on a trampled patch beneath the new layers from the latest snowfall. "Oh goddesses!"

"It's blood, Rusl, but no sign of a body," Auru answered. "Look, there are prints here, frozen by the snow. He managed to dig himself out and moved on to find shelter."

He omitted the fact that the only remotely human prints they saw were those of tiny leather shoes, childlike and utterly misplaced. One of the dogs found a tuft of grey wolf hair, likely from a scavenger. It was Humley who uncovered the seemingly last missing piece to their mystery.

"Yeti," he murmured, poking a spruce stick at the ground further ahead. "It stood right here, and it's a big one judging by the weight. More blood, too. Likely human. I think Yeti blood is darker."

"You reckon it's our guy?" Ashei asked.

"Very likely. This is a full-grown male, and my dogs are picking up the reekfish. The prints lead directly south. It looks like—" He paused, casting a glance at Rusl as if to gauge if his distance to the blacksmith was sufficient. "It looks like the beast carried him off."

"Do Yetis eat—" Auru paused, not feeling like continuing the thought.

Humley shrugged. "I don't think so, but there's not enough knowledge about them to be sure."

Rusl remained kneeling by the bloodstains under Auru's vigil, his faraway gaze scanning the snow for an invisible figure while Ashei and Humley got their sleighs down the slope and hooked the dogs back on.

Sighing, the Resistance leader crouched beside him, and when Rusl did not shake the comforting hand from his shoulder, Auru felt emboldened.

"We have every reason to believe that he's all right, Rusl. There are many caves around here for shelter, and he's resourceful. He can escape a slow, lumbering Yeti and hide long enough for us to find him. I'm sure of it."

Nighttime forced them to seek out one of Auru's aforementioned caverns, empty of any traces of occupation from Link but promising with their main quest. Ashei saw them first; red, blue, and brown handprints on the granite walls made by abnormally large fists. Yeti-fur littered the corners, and goat bones lay in neat piles in the back.

None of this seemed to impress their resident blacksmith. When their journey was stalled by adverse weather and they were forced to hunker down in another Yeti-marked cave for two more days of excruciating delay, still with no sign of their missing group member, Auru could not endure Rusl's stony demeanour any longer.

With a cup of hot tea in hand, crouching just out of the tempest's reach while snowflakes formed a curtain before the cavern entrance, Auru joined Rusl in his silent wait for the storm to settle.

His mute offer of the beverage was answered with a question. "How did you do it?"

"Do what?"

A twitch flicked across Rusl's mouth that made his lips purse. "How did you cope with it?" He gestured at the darkness before them. "This. The uncertainty, the hope, the… not-knowing…?"

A hundred different answers tumbled and churned within Auru's mind forever spinning like a well-oiled machine, but he settled for simplicity. "You know how. I formed the Agency, tried to find my own answers. Luck isn't always on our side with such things. But that's not what this is, Rusl."

Too late, he realised the reminder had sounded more like a reprimand. He put his mind's machine in gear once more, but by the time he had mapped out another monologue of apology and evasion, Rusl had already opened his mouth.

"I know, and I'm sorry," he whispered. "I guess I deserve this. It's my fault he left the camp and got himself hurt again." His tone became angry. "Every time, every single time, we end up in the same situation. It's like a bloody ritual we go through. Somehow I make him mad, he runs away and hurts himself in some way or another, and I'm always the one at fault in the end. That I even dared to compare it to what you went through…"

"You had every right to ask me for advice," Auru interjected, gently settling his hand once more on Rusl's shoulder. "And, for what it's worth, I fully support you in this situation. He should never have left the camp."

"He should never have come with us in the first place!" Rusl called into the wall of flakes before him.

Auru knew better than to pursue that particular conversation thread, the reaches of which were much too nebulous to predict.

"This isn't the first time you and Link have had… problems," he surmised after a moment of calm.

"No. It started after the fever of '72 when he was seven and Colin learned to talk. Uli and I had taught Link to use our names, and not call us mother or father. We thought, once we would finally explain to him that he was adopted, he'd more easily cope with it. We wanted to give him the choice of how he would call us. It backfired on us, and the dilemma ended with him hiding in a tree with a deep gash in his ear where he'd tried to cut off the tip."

Brows lifting, Auru unwillingly imagined the scene. It pained him more than he expected.

"He's always been… just slightly out of reach after that," Rusl continued. "We'd try to make him understand that he was just as much a part of Ordon as the rest of us, but it always ended in arguments. I never understood why he would think he had no place among us. When he decided to build his home on the outskirts instead of in the village centre, as we had planned, I was admittedly disappointed. Everything I'd done up to that point to try and integrate him, to prove to him he was a true Ordonian, seemed meaningless. He couldn't see just how much his rejection hurt us, so I, in turn, began to reject him too. Nothing shames me more than how I treated him, but during that time, I didn't see any other way to get through to him. I was just… so scared to lose him. To wake up one day and find him gone. He's my son! Even if not by blood, he will always be my son. I raised him practically from birth. And I should never have taught him a name that is meaningless to a child when the title of father would have strengthened so many bonds that were later torn apart."

I practically raised him from birth. The statement was like a tiny string curled around that one, forbidden concept, and Auru had to use all his willpower not to pull on it. But he was a man plagued with the exact same uncertainty, hope, not-knowing, that Rusl was facing right now. Except his torture had been going on for years. Perhaps seventeen years. A little more, a little less, but who was he to count? He couldn't let it slip through his fingers like all those other times just because the timing didn't quite match; a broken marriage and an unbearable loss had been the consequences.

"Did you allow him to use the title afterwards?" Auru could already determine the answer to that, but an inexplicable need to hear it from his apprentice—contender? he pushed the thought away—made him ask nonetheless.

"I did. He never used it. I remain Rusl to him, and Uli remains Uli. Colin is the only one he actually calls his little brother despite them not being related. I guess that's fair, considering Colin never had a say in any of it. Link was always fiercely protective of him."

Auru used the convenient pause to rally his thoughts, and his mind churned out the least provocative inquiry before, gritting his teeth, he stopped himself. Rusl was facing the potential death of his foster son, whom he loved so dearly that his own fear of losing him had caused exactly what he had tried to prevent, even though, unbeknownst to Rusl, those reasons reached far deeper than Link would have him know. Auru had the cushion of fifteen years of mourning to fall back on should the worst fate manifest itself. For Rusl, it would be a blow that would hurt like an arrow to the heart. There would be a better time for seeking deliverance.

"He knows you're just trying to protect him," Auru said, hoping his resignation could not be heard. "And he'd be very cruel to begrudge you for that. But perhaps he has… troubles he's trying to deal with. Perhaps he means to sort them out alone first before losing face in front of you."

"The battle at Kakariko, I know," Rusl replied, and Auru nodded mutely. That's one of his troubles, yes.

"I'll try to talk to him about it again when… if we find him." Rusl's doubt was alarming.

"We will find him, Rusl, I'm sure of it," Auru said. "I don't know what state he'll be in when we do, but until then, please don't bury yourself in blame. Take it from me; I've blamed myself every day for what happened to Yesha and me, and it hasn't solved anything. Have faith in Link. He's stronger than you realise."

Auru left his lukewarm tea with Rusl and started for the cave middle to get some sleep, but Rusl's reply made him pause.

"You already seem to know my son better than I ever have."

Auru turned, glaring at the back of Rusl's skull. Because I give him the benefit of the doubt, while all you do is shut him down.

But he knew this rebuke would cause more harm than good, and left it at the cusp of his lips where it burned a hole into his tongue.

0

The screams and barks resounding from the entrance hall made Link's skin crawl.

He hurried through the living room door, praying he was not too late. By the two central stairways, he found Yeto all poofed up in anger while two sled dogs snapped at his toes. The Resistance Group members stood before him with swords and crossbows raised, screaming orders at each other.

Link sprinted into the middle and shoved the two dogs aside, raising his hands. "Stop! Lower your weapons!"

Instantly he swirled around to address Yeto, placing his hands on the beast-man's large belly. "Calm down, Yeto, they're not your enemies!"

The Group quietened to shocked silence, but Yeto needed a little more convincing. "HUMANS ATTACK, WOLVES BITE AT ANKLES! WANT TO HURT YETA!"

"No, they're my friends, Yeto, they won't hurt Yeta." Growling, Link bent over and caught the still barking dogs by their collars, flinging them to the side and off of Yeto's legs with a feral roar that made his head scream with pain. The dogs were more shocked at the sound of his voice than the rough handling and hung back, tails tucked in.

"Din blast me, is that…?" Ashei stammered from the back.

"Link!" Rusl gasped and let his broadsword clatter to the ground before flinging his arms around his son, showing astonishingly little care for the mighty snow beast standing just inches away from him. "By Ordona, we thought… The dogs found your pack… Blood at the pine trees, the avalanche… How long have you been here?"

Link fully expected yet another angry scolding and braced himself for it, but Rusl's shocked countenance only intensified. Gasping, he gingerly touched his foster son's burst temple. "Link, your eyes…"

Auru appeared next to them, his relief deflating into concern. "There's blood in his ears, Rusl. Did you hit your head, Link? Is your nose—"

"Yes, I hit my head on a pine tree when I was caught in the avalanche and it caused a fracture," he blurted out, stunning them into more shocked silence. He had no patience or strength left to skirt their questions with poorly crafted lies. He sent a mental apology to Midna. I didn't want you to find out like this.

"I've been keeping still and had lots of sleep and I'm mending," he continued, twisting out of their grasp. "There's no need to be worried about me. Would you please shut those dogs up and stop prodding me? It's not helping the damned headache I've had for a week now."

Before they could reply, he turned towards the tense Yeti. "Yeto, these are my friends, they won't hurt you," he repeated for good measure. "How about you make some more of your soup to welcome them? I'll make sure they don't hurt Yeta, all right? Trust me."

Yeto paused, scrutinising the little Humans at his feet. "Humans want Yeto's soup?"

"Yes, they do. They came here just for your soup. They're looking forward to it."

"Are we?" Auru asked nervously as Yeto, a hesitant frown on his face, plodded off through the door to his kitchen.

"Yes, you are." Link's intense gaze was pitiless. "Follow me and leave the dogs and your weapons outside. I'll introduce you."

"Sir Auru, we shouldn't," Humley warned from behind them. He had gathered his dogs around him and stood within the pack like a teacher among bustling schoolchildren. "Yetis are unpredictable and feral. That beast attacked my town and my kinsmen. Nine people died because of it."

"Yeto didn't attack them, he tried to warn them," Link shot back. The man's blatant ignorance—not to mention his discrimination of a creature he barely understood—caused a boiling rage inside him. "He saved my life!"

"I believe you," Auru answered, too quickly.

"Do you have any idea how long we've been looking for you?" Ashei stepped in, wearing an odd mix of anger and relief that brought a rare bloom to her ashen face. "You're in some deep trouble, sport!"

"Captain, we'll worry about that later," said Auru. "Right now we ought to listen to him and ingratiate ourselves with these creatures."

"Sir, the boy looks like he's been pulled through a laundry mill!" Humley called. "You can't expect me to believe that beast had nothing to do with it."

"The avalanche did that, not Yeto!"

"Easy, Link," Rusl said, gently touching his son's shoulder. "Your nose is bleeding. Here, let me…"

"I'm okay, it's not the first time that's happened," Link murmured, pulling out his handkerchief. After he had somewhat wiped up the mess and made a cautionary pass around his ears too, he turned to the living room door. "Just… stay behind me and let me talk to her. She's quite scared."

They found Yeta braced against the sofa's backrest, fangs bared and hissing, which prompted him to stop by the door and lift his arms in a disarming gesture. Gently he spoke to her and approached only when he had succeeded in softening her countenance.

"Friends of Link, uh?" she asked, cocking her head in question.

"Yes, and they won't hurt you, I promise."

She coughed feebly but relaxed a little. "Yeta have sickness, or would stand up to greet. Come where is warm by fire."

Slowly, the Resistance and their Anouki ally filed into the room, each wearing a countenance of reluctance. Apart, of course, from Auru.

"Hello there," he said cheerfully, coaxing an intrigued brow-lifting from Yeta. "Terribly sorry to barge in like this. The blizzard outside and a recent avalanche drove us to look for shelter in your home." He then proceeded to name his companions, which Yeta each acknowledged with a blink and a quick smile that scrunched her face like a spasm of joviality. Link had no idea why, but he found the gesture very endearing. She was trying so hard to give each of her new guests a friendly welcome that didn't include getting up from her cosy spot to shake their hands.

"Yeta alright?" Yeto poked his head through the kitchen door, his upper lip curled upwards in quite the opposite facial expression his wife was making.

"Fine, fine, my love," she said and waved a hand dismissively. "This Aru, and Rus, and Hummey, and Ashy. Look hungry. Get soup for friends of Link, uh. Yeto scare half to death, look! Be good host, uh."

Crushed, Yeto grunted and half-heartedly ducked back into the kitchen to go by his appointed duty. Link could barely control himself, and had to bury his mouth in his sleeve to contain his laughter.

"Sorry for husband, protect Yeta," the female Yeti said to Auru, who looked like he had some trouble coming up with an appropriate reaction to the minor domestic that had just taken place. "Little Humans scare husband. But if friends of Link, friends of Yeta. Yeto be bad host, make friends wait. Soup good, warm friends up."

"Friends sit down in corner," Yeto at once interjected from the open door while he rummaged through his shelves for appropriate receptacles. "Yeto fetch dishes. Link help?"

Sensing that a bit of male-to-male consorting was being sought, Link joined the Yeti in his culinary den and leaned closer when Yeto bent over, his gleaming stirrups jangling like earrings.

"Wife unhappy with Yeto," he rumbled. "Yeto too angry?"

"You did the right thing, Yeto. You couldn't know who it was and you wanted to protect Yeta. She'll come around, I'm sure."

Yeto frowned while he contemplated Link's answer, then grunted. "Link right. Wife come around to hug for thanks. Yeto wait patiently. Where is Baby?"

Link gritted his teeth when Midna knocked at the sole of his boot angrily. "She's hiding," he whispered. "The others don't know about her, so… Don't mention her, okay?"

Yeto nodded with a frown, glancing at the single yellow rupee that rested on his butchering table. "Couldn't find other shiny money that jump out of pot. Baby need money back?"

Link smiled, glimpsing one of the missing green jewels inside an open crate by the door. He walked over to fetch it. "You keep it, Yeto. As thanks for your soup and… everything else. We owe you our lives."

The beast-man grinned. "Next time go shopping in Human town, can buy pumpkin with shiny money, like is proper. Quick, Link give bowls to guests now. Yeto must be good host."

"Next time you tell me when you have a freaking fracture, Link, you… you… Ugh!" Midna hissed almost too loudly. "I can't believe you kept this from me!"

"I didn't want to worry you, Midna," he murmured.

"Shove it, Link, I'm not talking to you anymore. Yeto, if you find him strangled to death in the morning, consider this my confession."

The Yeti simply shrugged and handed Link his bowls—if one could call them that—and ushered him back out the door.

Under Yeto's watchful saucer eyes, the newcomers set up camp at a safe distance from Yeta's sofa and were each told to wait patiently for their welcome soup. To the snow beast's initial disgruntlement, Humley was instructed to round up the dogs in the back of the kitchen due to the monster infestation outside the safe haven that was the Yeti den. But the beast-man was quickly appeased with a donation of four snow rabbits, the Group's hunting labour of the day, that he minutely skinned and added to his cauldron. Yeta, like every day before, refused to have him add the pumpkin to the soup, claiming she would not like the taste no matter how much Yeto pleaded—fairly, it was beginning to rot by now, with its top already mushed and watery. Link admitted defeat when, instead, she gave the all-clear for the pungent Ordon goat cheese ring. Yeto happily added it to his mix without cutting it up. All his actions and wanderings were intensely scrutinised by the hesitant adult arrivals.

Only Rusl seemed unperturbed by his sudden affiliation with two snow giants, having eyes and ears only for his son's well-being. His relief to see Link alive even distracted him from the one unavoidable question, giving Link ample time to come up with an adequate excuse when it was, indeed, finally asked.

"I left before dawn so I could find a good spot for deer hunting," Link declared with as much confidence and fake embarrassment as he could muster. "I'd seen some in the valley the day before and I wanted to surprise you."

Funnily enough, Rusl bought it, perhaps because his main concern—finding his oldest son alive—had been appeased and any confrontation or disagreement jeopardising their happy reunion would have been categorised as an unnecessary risk. His foster father's numb, almost dazed demeanour when he wiped Link's dirty face with a rag, as if he couldn't quite believe his son was there, flesh and blood, in front of him and not a frozen mess of twisted limbs beneath a layer of compact snow, forced a level of humility to Link's behaviour. All reservations he had harboured about their inevitable arrival were passed through a sieve of significance until, like a sinking stone settling in his stomach, he realised just how much worry he had forced upon his foster father and the other Group members.

This, again, was twisted with the Wolf's sense of defiance growing once more in influence.

It wasn't like I planned to get caught in the avalanche. And we still don't know how they are formed or what is causing them.

"Din blast it, Link, I don't know if you realise just how lucky you were," Ashei grunted, awkwardly tilting her soup bowl to take another sip of the broth.

They were all seated on their bedrolls forming a loose ring, a lantern illuminating their faces. Yeto had decided that the tomboyish captain was considered a lady and had served her portion in the frivolous ceramic dish he kept on top of his dusty shelf. Auru, Rusl, and Humley had, instead, been handed a pan, an iron pie mould in the shape of a fish, and a broken sauerkraut pot respectively. Thankfully he hadn't gone for the chamber pots which Link had glimpsed among his many kitchen wares.

"Lucky indeed, laddie," Humley muttered. "I've been caught in an avalanche once in my life, and was fortunate enough to tell the tale. Did you dig yourself out, all on your own?"

"Yeto found me in time. He helped me get out," Link said, warily glancing at the male Yeti who lounged in the opposite corner of the room softly humming to himself while Yeta was dozing before him, coughing from time to time. Yeto seemingly did not feel the need to correct Link, for which he was grateful.

"You should not underestimate that fracture, boy," Humley continued. "Lady Amauger lost her husband that way. He fell from a ridge inside our mine because the ground had iced over and broke his skull. Died a couple days later in the fort."

"Hum, that is too much honesty even for us Anouki people," Ashei growled, reaching out to touch not Link's arm, but Rusl's. The blacksmith's face looked like it had been enamelled.

"Beg pardon, 'Shei, Master Rusl, but it's the truth. We should bandage his head, immobilise it, and monitor his bleeding. If the ears bleed clear fluid, that's a bad sign 'cause that'll mean—"

"He's done for, we know," Ashei grunted. "He'll be fine. He's got nine lives like a blasted cat, he does. As long as he doesn't use them all up…" She winked across the lantern light at Link, making him smile.

Humley, meanwhile, was handed a roll of gauze by Rusl along with a piercing gaze that practically put the Anouki resident under pain of death if he did not get to work at once. Wordlessly, Humley waddled towards Link and began wrapping the youth's head tightly.

Feeling companionable, Link voiced the fleeting thoughts that emanated from the Wolf's pen. "I always considered myself to be more of a canine," he admitted while he endured the painful operation patiently. "Are dogs considered to have multiple lives too?"

"Depends on the race," Humley answered. "My mutts can survive pretty much anything."

"Do you identify as a dog now?" Ashei grinned. "You can do better. Personally, I like bears. Or mountain moose. They don't give a damn about avalanches. Animals always sense them before they happen. Lucky devils."

"Yeah…" Link thought back to his wolf instinct just before the disaster had struck, that immeasurable degree of fear, the urge to flee. His wolf counterpart would have saved him from the avalanche if only he'd heeded it in time. He truly needed to start listening to it more often. Use its power instead of fighting it, as his predecessor had said.

"We saw three avalanches in total, and that last one nearly buried us," Auru continued, eager to change the topic. "We almost lost one sleigh, thankfully no dogs which we managed to unhook in time. We were just about to make camp when the snow came down the mountain. We ran around the hill and saw the estate. You know the rest." He gestured at Yeto, who gazed back at him evenly.

At their request, Link told them of his days spent with the Yetis and of his exploration through the derelict manor. Auru and Ashei finally shed some light on the building's potential owner and why it was situated in the middle of nowhere within a snowed-in mountain range, miles away from civilisation.

"That coat of arms belongs to the Noirenoix family," Auru said, pointing at the crest above the fireplace. "Very rich and influential people. They used to be the king's right hand in all things military before one too many court martials exiled them."

"My father had some dealings with them in the past concerning steel and silver from our mine," Ashei added. "I hadn't expected them to own a frickin' fort all the way out here, though. And Link, you said you found giant suits of armour and weapons scattered around the place?"

Link nodded. "And today, Yeto and I killed a monster wearing one of them. It didn't look like any monster I've seen yet."

"You fought it, in your condition?" Rusl's former strength returned just long enough to silence even the wind outside and rouse Yeta from her slumber.

"Link very careful," Yeto grumbled in the background. "Yeto do heavy lifting. Yeto not let Link be hurt."

The statement wasn't quite enough to appease the Ordonian, but he kept the rest of his furious comments to himself for potential later use.

"Best show us the corpse in the morning, then," Auru said. "If this family was taming some sort of giant monster out here, chances are one of the surviving ones took over the Mirror shard. I guess you haven't had any luck on that front?"

"I'd thought it was the one we killed, but it seemed untainted," Link answered.

"Still, good work finding this place and that armoured monster, Link," Auru said. "We'll take over from here, give you time to heal."

"Sir, there is still the matter of his going rogue," Ashei said sternly. "He once again disobeyed the chain of command—"

"Well, technically he only skirted it by not telling us he planned a hunt, which was then interrupted by an accident, the avalanche."

"With all due respect, Sir, but even a young bonehead like him knows a blizzard can kill him if he's not careful. Furthermore, Hum found his pack twelve miles away from our camp. That's awfully far to travel on foot through a storm just to go hunting. And while we're on that subject, how in Din's name did you get that far in half a day, Link? Don't tell me you jogged all the way, because I won't buy it."

I'm a lot faster as a wolf, Link realised, teeth pressed together while he ransacked his brain for an explanation. Just like his stab wound or his unexplained injuries, he'd once again unknowingly built his own pyre on which the truth might be burned out of him. Considering the terrain, the snow, and the blizzard he'd left in, even a hardened Anouki scout would likely not make more than half that distance before being bogged down or stopped by exhaustion.

To his, and everyone else's surprise, it was Yeta who provided the revelation. "Link use shield to slide in snows," she chuckled. "Link tell Yeta. Pretty shield, very good for sliding. If Yeta not sick, would go out and slide in snows with Link, uh."

Ashei looked at Link as if he'd just turned yellow. "You did what?"

"I… used my shield as a sleigh," Link mumbled. "It got me down the mountain… faster."

"Very resourceful," Humley answered, giving Ashei an odd look. "It looks like you've got a challenger, 'Shei. Don't get any wrong ideas, though, he won't be racing any time soon with that fracture."

"You shield-surf, Captain?" Auru chuckled in surprise.

"I used to as a kid, to get away from my parents," she grumbled and would say no more of it no matter how much Auru prodded.

"How about we let Link off the hook for his oh-so-dastardly crimes and simply enjoy the fact that he's still with us?" Auru concluded. "Link, you gave us all a nasty fright. I'm very glad you're safe, and mending." He squeezed the youth's shoulder and cast him a misty-eyed smile, which Link reciprocated.

"Yes, well…" Ashei shifted uncomfortably on her bedroll. "Pardon my probing, I'm just trying to make sense of it all. This isn't the first time Link's gone a little off the hook. Naturally, I'm glad he's okay." She cleared her throat, sighing dramatically. "Sweet Nayru, what did he put into his soup? I had no idea reekfish was categorised as soporific. I'm ready to conk out."

"Fish good for sleeping," Yeto confirmed from his spot next to the kitchen door.

The soup left them all in a tranquil daze, and soon Humley and Ashei joined their quiet snoring to the wind's muted howls. Outside beyond the thick stone walls, the blizzard heaved against the wooden rafters, and the fire whistled with the wind's pull from the chimney above.

Link was just about to nod off when a gentle hand touched his shoulder. He found Rusl kneeling before him, pointing at the bandage around Link's head.

"Tell me if it hurts and I'll stop."

Strong smith's hands cupped Link's hair, and wandered across his scalp and the gauze, gently testing the tightness behind Link's left ear where the bruising was darkest. He brushed a gentle thumb over Link's purpled eyelid, and to Link's surprise, he felt himself guided forward until his forehead met Rusl's cheek in a delicate, desperate embrace that reminded him pleasantly of his childhood days.

"Is it okay if I just… hold you like this for a moment?" Rusl's voice broke with quiet emotion. "I'll be careful."

Link nodded against the Ordonian's cheek, pressing himself close to that surrogate heart. "Whatever you need, Rusl."

"I need to know you're safe," Rusl whispered. "I need to see you smile every day, I need your happiness to give me comfort. Whenever you're gone, I can't… I can't know just what you feel, how you are, if you've been hurt again or if you're angry with me. I… despise it when I make you angry. I've had a lot of time to think about what I did wrong. I'm not stupid; you didn't leave just to go hunting."

Link swallowed thickly, but said nothing.

"I'm the problem, I know," Rusl murmured. "It's me. I'm too clingy, too scared of losing you. I understand. If I could turn back time and revisit the moments that led to this, I would do things differently. I'd… I'd let you tell me off without batting an eyelid."

"You don't mean that," Link muttered, pulling back just slightly to lock eyes with Rusl.

"I do, after I was left thinking I'd lost you to an avalanche and Wolfos ate your body."

Link gritted his teeth and sighed, carefully extracting himself from his father's hold. "It was an accident I had no control over."

"If you'd stayed at camp, it wouldn't have happened at all." There it was again, the dreaded fear giving Rusl's words a touch of hysterical madness. Link knew he had to end the conversation quickly if he wanted to resist the urge of telling him everything.

"I left camp because I felt… stifled. I needed some breathing room, Rusl. I always do. Your fear is distracting me, clouding my judgement. I can't function properly if I have you hovering around me all the time, treating me like a helpless child." He couldn't bring himself to sound reproachful, not after the pain he had already caused.

"I know," Rusl was almost weeping now. "We're in a war, and you've made your choice to join the fight. I can't change that no matter how much I want to. I get that now. I'll try to be better about your space, but please—I'm begging you—don't shut me out like this again. I can't take that kind of pain anymore."

Link's hand settled on the smith's shoulder, squeezing just hard enough to gain the older man's attention. Sniffling, Rusl looked up to meet the Hylian's steel blue eyes bordered with bruises and scabbed scrapes from the avalanche's debris.

"If I told you to turn around and run, to let me find my own way to safety, would you do it?" Link asked quietly. "Would you trust me to protect myself, even without your help? Would you listen to me and do as I asked?"

He wasn't sure if it would stick, but apart from downright telling Rusl he had the Mirror's monster to defeat soon, he didn't know how else to wring such a promise out of his foster father. Predictably, it went as well as he'd feared.

"But you're not ready to fight whatever's out there. The Lizalfos battle already went poorly because of—"

"I've spent weeks surviving without your help. I can fight much better if I have no one to worry about but myself." He fuelled his gaze with every ounce of resolve he could muster, and spoke with just an undertone of a threat; I could always run away again…

What he had not expected was Rusl's retort and the sudden excruciating memory it brought with it. "Link, as a swordsman you fight to protect people. Sometimes these people are around you, or behind you. A good swordsman has to learn how to keep the people in his immediate vicinity safe. You won't always have the luxury of fighting alone."

Link's heartstrings seized up with sudden horror; he thought he heard whimpers and pleads ring out behind his back; trembling fingers clinging to his shirt; a massive boar advancing on him, swatting his raised sword aside like it was a twig. Phantom pain exploded in his head, accompanied by an awful whistling sound that made his fracture ache.

At once he wheeled his arms backwards and scrambled out of Rusl's reach. "I tried to protect them!" he hissed, fighting against the tears of shame that threatened to spill forth. "I wasn't strong enough."

"Link, what—"

"The children, when they were taken." Link's throat felt constricted with guilt and sorrow. "I tried to protect them. I was knocked out, and when I ran into the woods to find them, I…"

Don't tell him about the Wolf! He didn't believe me then, he won't do it now.

Behind them, Yeta stirred awake and grunted confusedly in his direction. Suddenly he felt the need to be close to her and feel the comforting warmth of her presence, warmth which Rusl's embrace seemed to have lost.

"I didn't mean that, Link, I'm… I'm sorry." Rusl reached out, but the touch felt cold on Link's skin. "Damn, I'm doing it again, aren't I? I don't blame you for what happened to the kids, not at all. All I'm trying to say is that, if you would accept it, we can work together. We can have each other's backs. I'm your father. Let me protect you."

How do I make you understand that I'm the one who has to protect you?

He couldn't, not without telling him why.

Say it, just say it! It was as if he could hear Midna's yell in the back of his mind, telling him to spill every last secret and regret at his foster father's feet.

His brief scramble had brought him to where he'd dropped his satchel at the sofa's end. One hand brushed at it, feeling the shadow crystal's bulge inside.

He'd been ready to trust Yeta, a creature he'd known for just a week—who wasn't even human—with knowledge of his Wolf counterpart. How was it that he could not do the same with Rusl?

Could he?

His hesitation lasted long enough for Rusl to rally his thoughts. "It happened again in Kakariko, I know," he replied softly. "You saw Colin being taken right in front of you. Is that what you're afraid of? That the same thing will happen to me?"

With the tumult of imagined outcomes to his potential revelations churning like a tempest in his brain, Link barely made sense of Rusl's words.

"Is that why you left? To confront this monster on your own so I wouldn't get hurt?" Rusl's murmur rose in pitch with good-hearted indignation. "Link, I'm far from helpless. I, too, survived for weeks on the road alone. I'll be fine. Have a little faith in your old man."

Link knew he had to have faith, even if it wouldn't be in his foster father's ability to protect himself. Auru had promised he'd keep Rusl and Ashei from interfering in the battle against the Mirror's monster. At this point, clinging to that weak hope was his only option. He'd do whatever he could to help, and if the monster was truly in the bedroom, he'd have a massive fortified door to block the path.

It just had to be enough.

"Okay," he answered meekly. "I'll trust you."

Rusl nodded and tapped his shoulder lightly. "Then, if you tell me to run, I'll do it. I promise."

"... Really?"

"You trust me, I'll trust you. Fair is fair. Deal?"

Link was still stunned by the unexpected victory. "Deal," he breathed, smiling.

"Bedtime, then. I'm knackered."

"You've no idea."

Chuckling, they separated, and Rusl crawled towards his bedroll with a deep yawn while Link approached Yeta's sofa.

He felt Rusl's eyes trail behind him, narrowed with confusion, but Link paid him little mind. He smiled broadly at Yeta, who was holding up his blanket, and crawled into its warm embrace.

Had it really worked? Had it been as simple as giving some ground to gain some in return? Perhaps Rusl had truly been changed by his crippling worry for Link's well-being. It had been a morbid, cruel way to enforce this change, and Link was far from proud of it. But if it would save Rusl's life, he didn't regret it.

Who knew? Perhaps everything would turn out fine in the end. Perhaps Link had worried for nothing. He would know when it was over, and the Mirror shard was in their possession. There was plenty of time to make amends afterwards.

When he gazed upwards, expecting Yeta's smiling eyes to meet him, he saw her staring at Rusl's huddled form on his bedroll instead, a strange glint in her eyes. She looked down as he reached a foot up to prod her arm.

"You okay, Yeta?"

She smiled sweetly, her eyes glistening. "Link sleep now. Yeta keep safe."

He nodded and nuzzled his face into the coarse woollen blanket. Above him, Yeta's eyes once more trailed across the Resistance members slumbering in the corner. The fire's glow reflected within her large pupils and made them glimmer with ember light.

"Yeta make sure no one hurt Link," she whispered.

Outside, the blizzard churned and howled like a raging beast.

000

Author's note: moving with my loving husband to a new country and a new life has given me new energy for writing, with another chapter set in snowy summer on Snow Peak, more Yeti charm, and a long overdue conversation between father and son.

Our newest installment in the Legend of Zelda franchise has also given me a lot of energy, however not in the same way as the aforementioned things above. It's more like an angry energy. I may make a few enemies when I say this, but sadly I was not as satisfied with Tears of the Kingdom as I had hoped, at least from a story perspective. The crushing disappointment I felt after buying the game and realising that the disease of "general-story-quality-going-down-the-hill" has also reached and infested my most favourite gaming franchise made me cling all the more to my nostalgic fantasy land of Twilight Princess and my desire to make its imperfect but miles-better story canvas into what I have always dreamed it to be. Sorry, Nintendo, but here's one fan you sadly haven't managed to satisfy with your newest installation, for I just value story and good character writing more than gameplay. I won't say that the story of TotK is bad. It just didn't click with me. I found it too superfluous, too short, with too little effort put into background lore and innovation. I didn't care much for the characters (apart from Mattison, she is adorable and awesome and I love her to bits!) and I had honestly hoped not to chase after cutscenes once again by tracking down fabled landmarks and rewatching literally the same exact scene four times with just a different Divine Beast mask in it! And, quite frankly, my greatest disappointment was Link himself. Him displaying about as much emotional range as an eggplant dropped it for me. I cannot count the amount of times he smiles in the few cutscenes we get with him on one hand because, well... he doesn't. Ever. Not when he comes back from the sky, not when he gets saved by the sages, not even when he gets Zelda back! How many times does Link from Twilight Princess smile? Hm? I don't have enough hands to count. Smiling is such an important facial expression for us humans, and I have always been able to connect with Link from TP through the shockingly intense display of his emotions, something I have seriously missed in our new stoic, knightly, proper hero from Hyrule 10'000 years after.

Sorry for the rant. I needed to get this out of my system. Moving on.

I am also back on the rewrite with gusto, chewing through years of amateur writing and unnecessary plot padding to hopefully one day be able to fulfill my dream of having my own printed paperback with my name on it sitting between my Stephen Kings and my Dorothy Dunnets on the shelf. It's still a lot of work, for my greatest flaw seems to be an unattainable desire to achieve the perfect manuscript (or as perfect as my writing prowess doth allow), and mistakes just keep hiding between those endless lines for me to uncover and improve. I'll get there... Eventually.

I wish you all a lovely day, forgive me for not conforming to modern game design choices, and I hope I'll see you next chapter!

DR