Link always knew he could find solace within the thickness of the Lost Woods. It's what prompted him to choose it as his home, after all. He loved the solitude. He loved the fauna and he loved its scenery. Such tranquillity could not be found in Castle Town. And no one but a fool would attempt to seek him out there. Those who did would ultimately lead themselves to a demise amongst the lush, green backdrop.
"I don't want you or any of your friends playing in here while I'm gone, alright?" Link turned to face his housekeeper. The boy seemed more focused on running miniature fingers over the surface of his bed. "Hey. Are you even listening to me?"
The skull child's beady yellow eyes turned to Link. "Yeah, mister. We'll keep your house in tip-top shape," said the faceless boy. "When are you coming back?"
Link affixed a bandolier over his torso, the rigid leather strap stretching diagonally from shoulder to hip. The scabbard on his back housed a long, silver blade, which had not seen use for months. "I don't know," he said, stooping to fasten his boots. He arose to completely tower over the child. "Look, just make sure you keep the windows and doors shut. I don't want to find any fairies nesting in here when I come back. And if anything happens-"
"-go to the Kokiri and tell them." The skull child turned around to admire the hero's home. Blades and potions and all manners of rare equipment met him in every direction he looked. "You can trust us, Mr. Mask. I hope you have fun on your vacation."
Link smirked, holding onto his rucksack limply with four fingers. "It isn't a vacation. It's a chore," he said. It was far from a lie.
And while Link didn't consider himself overly superstitious, he couldn't help but see it as an omen when his once-human guest fumbled a glass jar he had on display. It fell to the ground and broke into a dozen shards. The skull child quickly fell to both knees and began picking the pieces up. Link frowned deeply.
"You have to be more careful." Link approached the child, who hastily cleaned up their mess. He knelt, intending to help the boy pick up the potentially harmful bits of glass. Suddenly, a head of straw struck him beneath the jaw. He stifled a curse. The skull child stared through the window, oddly alert. "What's wrong?" he asked, rubbing his face.
The skull child cautiously made his way to the dew-speckled panes. "Don't you sense it too, mister?" he said quietly. "Someone just trespassed into the Lost Woods."
Link arose. A bitterness plagued his tongue. "A child?"
"I don't know." The skull child, in the blink of an eye, swivelled around and bolted to cower behind the hero. "It's scary!"
"Relax. I'll go deal with it."
The skull child stopped clinging to Link's side, looking up at him with eerie eyes.
"But you said you don't want anyone to know you live here."
"I'm not going as myself," he said, making quick strides to a chest, which he quickly rifled through. He withdrew a mask built of splintered wood. "It's probably just some clueless kid. I'll point 'em in the right direction before they turn into one of you."
The skull child offered a cheerful thumbs-up. "Gotcha!" He stared deeply at the hero, who, in turn, stared at the Deku Mask. "C'mon, do the thing!"
Link sighed.
In comparison to the rest of his masks, the Deku Mask did not feel as if it peeled the skin off his face. Upon affixing it to his face, it melded to his skull with a dull pain. Then came the bizarre feeling of his bones shrinking and his skin hardening. His vision would spin and he'd lose his footing. But when he returned to consciousness, he found himself kneeling with timber legs. A cry of excitement came from his guest.
"Awesome!"
Being a Deku Scrub had many perks. For one, he could understand other forest-dwelling creatures. This allowed him to make peace with the seed-spitting tribe of scrubs. Through the eyes of a Deku, the forest appeared so much more vibrant. And with it came a sense of appreciation for nature that persisted even after he transformed back into his usual self. But above all, the form's tiny stature and innocent appearance made him feel like he was a child again.
Link carried himself to the door with tiny limbs. "Stay here," he told the skull child. "And don't break anything else while I'm gone."
The skull child gave Link another thumbs-up.
The Lost Woods didn't seem imposing through the eyes of a Deku. Though, even as a human, Link was no longer afraid of its maze-like layout. He had long grown used to its twists and turns, finding comfort in knowing only a select few would be able to navigate through it to seek him out. He appreciated being on his lonesome. And he sought to keep it that way. The last thing the serenity of the Lost Woods needed was the entire population of Hyrule knowing it housed a certain hero.
But one had to be a special kind of daring to willingly step into the woods. Tales were often told to children - whose courage knew no bounds - of how the Lost Woods was not a place to frolic in. They would not find clear bodies of water to drink from, nor would there be any low-hanging fruits. Many of those parents believed that turning into a skull child (or freaks, as they called them) was a fate far worse than any manner of death. Link couldn't help but smile stupidly every time he thought of the folktale. It made him glad that he did not have any authoritative figures as a child to feed him lies so baseless.
His tiny legs couldn't run very quickly. That, along with the fact that he wasn't as physically capable as a full-grown adult, were two of the biggest downsides of being a Deku. He sprinted through the forest, a small feeling within his hollow self leading him to the wanderer. After navigating through countless groves and coppices, he heard a very peculiar sound. He stopped, his wooden form growing rigid.
"Go away," the voice said, silvery and exotic and starkly out of place in a place like the Lost Woods, "I already told you I have no interest in playing at the moment."
If it wasn't for Link's selflessness, he would have left the trespasser at the forest's mercy. He stood aside, blending into the greenery while he watched the Sheikah attempt to gain a sense of direction. As Sheik consulted a mental map, a straw-clad boy tugged at bandaged forearms.
"C'mon, it's been years since I last played!" pleaded the skull child. Sheik remained unbudging. "You go hide and I'll try to find you, 'kay?"
Sheik fought off a groan. "If I play with you," he said defeatedly. "Will you promise you'll show me where Mr. Hero lives?"
The skull child gave him a series of firm nods.
"All right then." Sheik kneeled, meeting the child in the eyes. "Go hide. And don't act surprised when I find you."
Laughter left the skull child, ripe with treachery and vileness. "Oh, I don't think you'll find me, Miss Red-Eyes."
"Miss?" Sheik scowled, the bitter expression of his hidden behind a white cowl and tresses of blond hair. "Why, I ought to-"
A shriek left the skull child. In an instant, he turned and sprinted into the foliage. Sheik watched him do so. Slowly, the assassin stood up. Then it was Sheik's turn to be surprised.
"Were you seriously about to play with that fiend?" Turned to stone, Sheik turned around to face Link, who stood tall with a mask in his grasp. "You do realise the Sheikah race can't be saved if you're dead, right?"
"Oh, shut up, you recluse. I was just using that little scoundrel to find-"
"Save it," Link said. "I'm almost done packing my things. You can tag along." He turned around and began retracing his steps.
Sheik had faced all manners of danger before. His experiences with misfortune and violence rivalled that of the hero. However, it was only amidst the Lost Woods that he felt genuine unease. It felt as if the forest had a mind of its own, very much capable of manipulating itself to catch a victim by surprise. He stifled a sigh and lumbered after Link.
"What is in your hand?" he questioned once the silence had become too unbearable.
Link glanced at the mask in his hands. "Just a little something I picked up while I was out and about."
Sheik found the trinket to be peculiar. It resembled the face of a Deku Scrub, a creature both men had encountered frequently during their travels. Why the hero flaunted the face of one was a mystery to the assassin.
"Out and about where?" Sheik pried. "I don't think there are many places where they're big on Deku Scrub faces."
"You'd be surprised," Link said, stepping over an intrusive vine. Sheik cautiously followed his example. "But enough of that. What are you doing in the Lost Woods?"
"I was looking for you."
Link stopped, staring emptily at the Sheikah. "Did Zelda tell you I live here?"
"No. It wouldn't take a genius to figure an ex-Kokiri would live in the woods."
A huff left the hero. He continued on his way, leading his sardonic, red-eyed guest to his abode. Sheik took a moment to admire the picturesque, vine and moss-caked cabin. Inside smelled faintly of lavender.
"So this is where heroes come to die."
Sheik performed two spins to take in his surroundings before stopping at Link, who was now finished packing a leather rucksack.
"I have not come here to die. I came here for a sense of quietness," he said dully. While Sheik pondered upon the numerous lockers and chests, he figured he may as well be hospitable. "Would you like some pea soup? I made it this morning."
"Um. No, thank you."
Link scoffed. "Guess it'll just go to the skull kids, then," he said. "And please tell me you're not just bringing dried meat for the journey."
"It's a long trip, hero. Pea soup is not sustainable." Sheik leant on a hip. "And you didn't seem so against dried meat during your heroics."
"No, that's unacceptable." Link brought up his rucksack, slinging it over his broad shoulders. "We'll stop by Lon Lon Ranch and grab some sourdough starters. It'll ferment wonderfully in the desert," he said. "I need to pick up Epona, anyway."
Sheik took in the cabin for the first - and potentially, last time - registering how the floorboards creaked beneath him, and how rays of sunlight beamed through tiny cracks in the walls and ceilings. It was a cosy, well-built cottage, and not at all where Sheik expected a hero to reside. Though, Link had always been connected to nature. That explained the green garbs that had since become acquainted with the hero.
"You know the Gerudo don't exactly respect me anymore," Link said, crestfallen as he left the sacredness of the Lost Woods, not knowing when he would return. Sheik trailed him loosely. "Should I be expecting these nomads to welcome me with open arms?"
The foreign Sheikah voice replied, "These nomads do not see Ganon or his legacy in a good light." He quickened his pace, falling upon the revelation that, ironically, Link had become his guide. "But the desert is ripe with people who are still loyal to him. I doubt they'd dare to try anything, especially if the Hero of Time himself is involved."
"And if they do?" Link blanched at his own words. "I'd go to great lengths to prolong the Sheikah race. But if it means starting another conflict?"
The treetops obscuring the sky grew less condensed. Link caught glimpses of the sky until he stood below it fully, now out of the Lost Woods entirely. Sheik followed, girlish lengths of blond hair dishevelled and covered with leaves.
"That's rather pessimistic of you, hero," he said mundanely, brushing his head free of forest detritus and adjusting his headpiece.
Hyrule Field was lovely at this particular time of year. Yellow dandelions speckled the voluminous grass and the field appeared lush enough to lay down and sleep in. Gentle gusts of wind made the two boys' hair billow, but not irritatingly so. They began the trek to the ranch, arriving in silence just as the sun reached its apex.
Link hadn't seen Malon for many months, and it became apparent that was a tremendous mistake. The instant the hardwood door opened, she lunged and caught the hero by surprise, almost sending the pair of them off the porch and onto the grass. Her arms enveloped him fully, constricting his arms against his sides. He didn't have time to register the situation before she forced herself away. Her flush face turned to one of scorn. A rough hand slapped him firmly across the cheek.
"You think you can just run off like that?" she asked, eyebrows knitted together. "Leaving Epona alone. Leaving me alone. You are a horrible man, Link."
Link, swiftly recovering from the redhead's attack, spared a look at Sheik, whose cowl didn't quite obscure an amused expression. He swallowed heavily. "You know I couldn't stay here at the ranch, Malon," he said to the woman.
"So you run off into the forest with your tail tucked between your legs? Real heroic of you." She glanced at the second figure standing on the doormat. Her expression instantly softened. "Heya, Sheik. Would you like to come inside for a glass of milk, love?"
Sheik, to Link's dismay, took up Malon's offer. The redhead lingered in the doorway, a hand resting on the knob defensively. "Epona's in the paddock. Pray to Din she remembers you, fairy boy."
And then the door shut in his face. Link understood her contempt. He and Malon were close before he settled down in grassy solitude, and he did so knowing it would shatter their growing relationship. Perhaps, in another life, the pair could have come to fruition. But in the present, he wanted to be nothing but himself. And that meant formally courting, marrying and turning a woman potbellied with offspring was the last thing on his mind.
He made his way to the expansive paddock, a wide, fenced-off area where, once, only a handful of horses grazed. Now, it had grown significantly and sized and there roamed all manners of horses. Though, amongst the towering stallions and dainty foals, one particular steed grazed the fields on their lonesome. Swiftly, Link vaulted over the fence and neared the sorrel mare. Unlike her rider, Epona was devoid of any scarring or imperfection. Her coat was as silky and healthy as ever. Her ears perked. And then she galloped over to the hero.
For the second time that day, a majestically maned girl almost made Link lose his footing. Epona nudged her head into him, almost violently, as if reprimanding him for his months of absence. He must have spent almost half an hour scratching at her muzzle, stopping only when Sheik stepped onto the pasture to approach him.
"I see you are still conscious. It wasn't much trouble getting reacquainted with Epona?"
Link hummed in acknowledgement. "Horses are just as sentient as you or me, Sheik," he said, scratching at the mare's white-streaked muzzle. "I've missed her so much."
A brief silence followed. The slit revealing Sheik's eyes showed the two, stark-red orbs softened for a moment. Sheik gestured to the ranch. "Oh, Malon told me to tell you she has your precious sourdough starters."
Link clasped his hands together. "Awesome!" he said. With his sole attention set on the Sheikah, Epona nudged his shoulder, envious. "Good bread will make the whole thing worthwhile. Maybe this trip won't be so gloomy, after all."
With a grin on his face, he walked past the Sheikah, blissfully unaware of the sombreness hidden behind a cowl. No, the only thing on his mind was his fondness for sourdough, not the oncoming extinction of one of the world's most ancient creeds. Their journey could lead them to nothing. But in the end, the hero would not share the assassin's misery. Link would never know about the agony hidden behind a stoic facade and snow-white cowl.
And that made Sheik want to vomit, curl up and bawl his eyes out.
A/N: It's a shorter chapter, but I hope you enjoyed it nonetheless!