"Okay, what says 'thieves' hideout,'" Link muttered, his eyes constantly scanning through the trees. "For a blind man?" He'd been wandering around the swamp for several minutes now, and he was regretting changing into his light Sheikah boots that were unfortunately not water resistant. He could feel the mud beginning to seep through his light shoes up into his socks and resolved to go start a fire to warm up his feet as soon as he found Zelda and found his way back out of the swamp. Assuming he found his way out, of course. All of Captain Ashei's tips about navigation were ringing in his head, but he'd gone ahead and tromped into the swamp without marking his entrance point, his initial landmark of a rotting log meant nothing now because he'd walked past at least seven, and he didn't realize he'd been walking in circles until he came across his own footprints in the marshy grass. Link felt a prick on his neck and slapped at his skin, wincing. He pulled his hand away and saw a spatter of blood.

This is terrible. Why are we here? The pessimistic voice in his head protested.

We've got to get Zelda out of here, Link argued. If we're uncomfortable, she's ten times worse. He wiped away the sweat on his forehead wearily. That discouraging voice in his mind was beginning to wear on him, and Link wondered if he'd always been so negative or if it was just an effect of getting out from under his father's thumb where he could make his own decisions that had their own consequences. Link grunted and stepped around a gap in the grass, avoiding what looked like a mudpot. His head rammed into something in front of him, and he fell back into the mucky patch of brown water that he was so careful to avoid. The pain in his head flared up again, and Link grunted in surprise, glancing back up to see what he had run into. Shockingly, there was nothing ahead of him that he saw at eye level, and Link frowned. He stood up, ignoring the throbbing pain in his head, and walked forward once again. This time his foot caught on something, and he tumbled forward only to smack his head again on something he couldn't see. Link stumbled back, his feet sliding in the mud, and he collapsed once again in the mud. Groaning, he rolled onto his back, but something pressed up against him as he tried to roll over, keeping him off the ground. Link reached behind him to feel for the tree or log underneath him, but his hand came into contact with what felt like a stone wall.

What? Link hadn't seen any stone earlier. He pressed himself up onto his knees and ran his hand along the wall, seeing nothing but air. Bemused, Link stared at his hand and saw nothing, but his hand felt a sturdy stone wall with gaps in between the stones filled in with furry moss.

Just as he pressed both hands up against it, there was a loud crash, a scream, and what sounded like breaking glass. The barrier beneath Link's hands evaporated, and he swayed forward, almost losing his balance on his haunches. A huge, gray stone building materialized in front of him, another twenty feet beyond the invisible barrier. As he jumped to his feet in alarm, there was a huge splash coming from behind him, and a loud gasp.

Link spun around, withdrawing the Master Sword again. "Who's there?" He shouted as he turned, his eyes narrowed.

Zelda sat in the mud behind him, her eyes glowing lavender and her face wilted in exhaustion. She was panting heavily, her long auburn hair loose and wild around her shoulders, and she was still wearing the plain dress from earlier. Her face and hands were littered with cuts and bruises, and there was a hole in her dress at her left hip that was covered with blood.

"Sheik?" She gasped. Then she glared at Link, her back straightening. "Prince Lincoln. What, pray tell, are you doing here?"

"I-I" Link's eyes widened. "I came to rescue you."

Zelda snorted, but Link could see she was still shaking, and her face was ghostly white. "Your highness, I happen to be a self-rescuing maiden." She grasped the hem of her dress and tore a strip of cloth about half as long as her arm from the fabric. "Which is more than I can say for you."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Link sputtered, but Zelda ignored him and rose to her feet, her knees quivering. She balled up the fabric and pressed it against her hip, staunching the ooze of blood. Link took a half-step closer, but she held out a hand threateningly.

"Zelda, what-"

"Shhh, Prince," she murmured, wincing as she stood upright. "I don't like this any more than you do, but we should leave. We have a job to do." She swayed on her feet, and Link did reach out to grasp her arm this time.

Zelda grimaced, but she allowed him to help her limp out of the water. "Let's go. They won't be happy I blew up their hideout."

"You-you blew up their hideout?"

Zelda eyed him warily. "In a manner of speaking. Come on, let's get out of here."

Link nodded, a multitude of feelings swirling inside him, and wordlessly slipped under Zelda's arm to support her. She stiffened, but she sagged against Link as they shuffled back along Link's muddy trail of footprints. Link's thoughts were bumbling across themselves, and he found question after question for the mage spouting in his mind, but somehow he couldn't formulate them into words. Nervously, Link peered through the trees ahead of them, and he hesitated as they neared a thick group of willow trees.

"Don't stop," Zelda groaned. "I'll just fall over and not get up."

"I'm just not sure we're going the right way," Link muttered, tightening his grip on Zelda's shoulder and glanced sideways at the mage. "But I can carry you if you fall."

Zelda stiffened, her eyes narrowing. "I doubt that. You'd just let me fall." She lifted her head and squinted through the trees. "But your horse is just on the other side of those bushes."

"What? How do you know?"

"I'm a Mage," Zelda grunted, "We can do stuff like that." Her left knee was trembling, but she stepped forward, forcing Link to follow. Sure enough, Ebony was grazing on some of the swamp grass, her hooves covered in mud, up against the willow tree.

A thousand questions were still swirling in Link's mind, but he swallowed his incredulity and seized Ebony's reins. "Come on girl, let's get out of here."

Ebony snorted happily, and Link ducked back out from Zelda's arm. "You first. I'll hold you up."

Zelda glared at him, but she allowed him to help her up into the saddle. Gingerly, she swung her leg over and gripped the pommel tightly with one hand while the other held the now-bloody ball of fabric against her hip. Link stared up at her for a moment, trying to bring his thoughts into some sense of order. Zelda ignored him, shifting her leg in the saddle as she pressed her strip of cloth up against her leg.

"We can set up camp and treat your leg," Link suggested timidly. "You look exhausted."

Zelda's eyes flashed, and she lifted her chin. "No, I'm fine. We need to get as far away from here as possible. Let's head for Thieves' Town."

"Thieves' Town?"

"Lurelin Village, I mean." Zelda stared down at Link, eyebrow raised. "Thieves' Town is what the locals call it. It's full of all sorts of unsavory people."

"Oh." Link frowned, heaving himself up into the saddle behind Zelda. "Isn't that a bad idea? What if we get recognized again? If it's full of thieves like Blind-"

"Well, do you have a better idea?" Zelda snapped. "The closest places we could go to get supplies are back to Ordon Village or Lurelin."

Link was reaching around Zelda for the reins as she spoke, and she flinched as his hand brushed her bloody hip. He shied back, then gently tried again. Zelda swayed out of the way, and he felt a surge of frustration. "Yeah. Let's stop and treat your hip at the lake. I have some bandages in my saddle bags."

"I told you, we should we get out of here-"

"Zelda, you honestly think you can ride for another half day on that leg?" Link questioned, a bit sharply, and Ebony whinnied softly at his tone. Zelda's back was stiff as a board, putting at least a foot of distance between him and her on the saddle. Link winced. Now you've done it, he accused himself. There's no way she's going to let me be her friend now.

As if you wanted to be her friend, the contrary voice added.

Shut up. Link ground his teeth and took a deep breath.

"Just at the mouth of the lake," Link said, more quietly this time. "Far enough away that we're out of range of the swamp, but still not close enough for someone from the village to come find us. We can set up camp close to the water."

Zelda grunted as Ebony started walking out of the swamp, the horse's hooves squelching in the mud. "Fine. Then we head for Thieves' Town for supplies. We'll just have to be careful not to reveal ourselves or the Sword."

"Fine by me," Link replied, thinking of Ravio. That would put them close to the forest that Impa had mentioned. It shouldn't be too hard to find a master swordsman, right? Impa made it sound like he was an expert to admire, someone that could really help him figure out what was going on with the Master Sword. Surely they would be able to find him.

He kicked Ebony into a trot, and Zelda came down hard on the first gait. She inhaled sharply, and Link quickly pulled Ebony back into a walk.

"Sorry," he said softly. Zelda took a shaky breath but said nothing. Link mentally kicked himself. This cold, sharp Zelda was nothing like the woman he'd accompanied to Ordon. She was gentle, eager, and careful when they'd found their way through the woods outside the castle. Her magic, though unfamiliar and strange, had proven strangely helpful. But now she was back to the taciturn, cold figure he was familiar with from the Castle.

But Link didn't know where he stood either. His interactions with her in the castle proved that she was quick-witted, frighteningly strong, and willing to follow wherever destiny took her. He still felt the nagging sense of the prophecy and the weight of the Sword looming over him, and seeing Zelda use her magic so efficiently still irked him when he still struggled to wield the Sword. But...it seemed his first impression of the Mage of Prophecy was wrong.

The sun was dropping lower in the sky, and orange clouds were beginning to streak across the sky and reflect on the surface of the lake. Ebony snorted as they walked slowly down the road, her head turning toward the lake.

"Eb," Link said softly, pulling sideways on the reins. "Not now. We've got to keep moving."

Zelda stared at the lake beside them, her violet eyes weary and thoughtful. Link waited for her to say something, as he had grown to expect from her when she took that expression. But she remained silent, her shoulders tense and her hands still gripped around the saddle pommel.

You're not just Sheik anymore, he reminded himself. The road began to curve alongside the shore, and Link started looking for a clear patch of grass in the trees. Somewhere that they could light a fire and-

"There." Zelda lifted a hand and pointed further off the road than Link was looking. "There's a river running into the lake near a grove of oak trees. It'll be perfect."

"O-okay." Link steered Ebony off the road in the direction that Zelda pointed. Man, Captain Ashei was right. Foragers do have a good sense for a campsite.

As they reached the gap in the trees, Link swung out of the saddle immediately and lifted his arms to help Zelda. She glowered down at him, but carefully lifted her leg over the pommel and put her hands on his shoulders. He gently grasped her around the waist and helped lower her to the ground. Link had a strong sense of deja vu as he stared into Zelda's face, but she was the first one to step aside and limp to a fallen log. She bent slowly and sat down, panting slightly. "Okay. Bring me a bucket of water from the river."

Automatically, Link opened his mouth to protest, but he took one look at Zelda's pale face and turned back to his saddle bags. This was not the time to argue.

Pain continued to shoot through Zelda's legs, abdomen, and tailbone as she struggled to clean and bandage the wound from Blind's dagger. The Prince sat next to her on the log, his tattered Sheikah wrapping fluttering around her every time he moved. Only now, Sheik kept his scarf down around his neck, revealing that Sheik's piercing blue eyes were actually the hateful eyes of Prince Lincoln. He kept attempting to help her clean out the gaping hole in her hip, but Zelda refused.

I know what you really think of me, she thought darkly, glaring daggers at the fake Sheikah every time he rose to assist. I'll show you I'm not some helpless, lost farm girl who can't even use her magic. When she'd arrived at the castle, she was floored by all the people, protocol, and flaunt of authority around her. But out here in the woods, surrounded by trees and bushes...she could afford to stand a little taller.

I did grow up out here, after all. Unlike some spoiled princes I know. Zelda hissed in pain as she took a damp strip of cloth from the Prince's saddle bags and wiped off a crust of blood from her wound. All of the pent-up adrenaline in Zelda's system from prowling through Blind's blackened hideout had evaporated once she'd settled back on the Prince's horse, and she was left feeling exhausted and prickling with pain. The sooner she could make sure she wasn't going to die and get some sleep, the better.

Prince Lincoln looked up sharply at the hiss of pain, but he didn't move as he watched her wash it out.

"You didn't think to bring any sort of nettosante potion in those saddlebags of yours?"

"Netto-netto what?" Prince Link blinked. "I didn't pack them, Impa did."

"Never mind," Zelda muttered. She looked up and met his eyes. His expression was shifting between worry and...disgust? He glanced down at her wound again before glancing away quickly at jumping to his feet. Confused, Zelda looked down at the wound again. There wasn't much to see, other than the blood-encrusted hole in her green dress and the crimson stained scraps of fabric that she'd been pressing into the wound itself. Her mind flashed with the expression on Blind's face as he jabbed the knife into her body, but she blinked it away hurriedly and gripped her cleaning rag tighter. Gently, she swabbed at the blood and dunked the rag into the hot water that she'd heated from the stream. The wound itself didn't look too bad-there was a lot of blood that stained the puckered edges of the skin around the small hole a dark red, but the skin wasn't inflamed or discolored. All she needed to do right now was to clean and sanitize the wound. She could worry about the rest later. Zelda inhaled slowly and glanced up at the Prince. He was still pacing, avoiding her gaze as his gray-colored wrap swirled around him. Then he moved toward his horse, his hands going to his saddlebags.

"Something wrong, your highness? Don't tell me you've never seen a wound like this before."

"It's not that," the Prince said hurriedly, refusing to look at her as he looked through the saddle bags. "You said something about that potion stuff? What would it look like?"

"Nettosante? It's an opaque white paste that's usually in a small pouch." Zelda grimaced as she pressed her fabric back into the wound, blinking away the spots from her vision. "I might also need to stitch it up. The bleeding hasn't stopped yet, which means-"

"Stitch it up?" Link repeated, turning back to her, his eyes wide and panicked. "As in, with a needle?"

Zelda glared at him. "Yes. I need to close the wound. If the blood isn't clotting to do that on its own, then it'll have to be stitched up."

Link stared at her, his face going pale. "Couldn't you just use your magic? Summon some more skin or something?"

"Of course not. None of the magics can heal. Don't you know anything?"

Link pressed his lips together and turned back to the saddlebags. "And you're going to stitch it up yourself?"

Zelda hesitated, thinking of the healer in her village, Brunner. He was a good friend of her parents, and he was always willing to teach Zelda some of the tricks of his trade. But she'd never watched him sew closed a wound. "I-I probably shouldn't."

The Prince nodded in understanding. "It would probably hurt a lot. Your hands would be shaking."

Zelda frowned. She hadn't considered that. "We'll have to find a healer soon, then. Unless you'd want to do it."

Prince Lincoln's face turned red. "I-I can try if it'll help."

Zelda raised an eyebrow. "And you've held a needle before, I take it?"

Link shook his head. "Well, no. But...if it'll keep you alive..."

"Keep me alive." Zelda repeated blandly. "That's awfully considerate of you, your highness. I think I'll take my chances and wait for the healer, if it's all the same to you."

Link's face darkened and he redirected his attention back to the bags on Ebony's saddle. "Of course. Don't accept my help, it's fine."

"You think I'd trust you stabbing into my skin with a needle, after everything that's happened?" Zelda leaned forward agitatedly.

"You trusted me to get you to Ordon Village," Link grumbled, still rifling through his saddle bags. "And to keep you from falling off my horse."

Zelda jumped to her feet, forgetting the wound in her hip for a moment. "But you didn't trust me to protect you, did you? You didn't even want my help-" Zelda's argument was cut off by a shooting pain in her leg. She cried out as her leg buckled, and she collapsed back on the log. She hunched over the wound in her hip, squeezing her eyes closed at the rush of pain. As she closed her eyes, her memory alighted upon the darkness and pain she'd felt in Misery Mire. The pain gripped her, and Zelda gasped as the same desperation and fright she'd felt locked away in the dark swarmed over her.

No, she thought desperately. I'm here now. Everything's okay again. She tried to shift her attention to the rough fabric she was gripped, and suddenly she was back in the present. She clawed at the bandages covering the hole in her dress before she forced her hands to stop moving. Then she heard soft footfalls, and she felt the Prince's Sheikah wrappings brush against her knee. "Is this it?" he said softly, and Zelda opened her eyes. He was thrusting a small bottle of a creamy, white paste toward her, his brow knit with concern.

Why are you helping me? Zelda tried to take a deep breath, but she couldn't get her lungs to release the exhale. She nodded jerkily, feeling her pulse pound against her neck. Wordlessly, Link unstoppered the jar and grabbed an extra swath of cloth that Zelda had set on her knee that had clung to her dress when she had risen. Gently, he fed the cloth into the bottle and got a healthy dab of the cream on the tip. "What do I do?"

Zelda forced her shoulders down and tried to sit up straight. Her muscles groaned in protest, and pain surged through her chest. She gritted her teeth and tried to focus on getting her lungs to release. They did, and Zelda breathed out through her mouth before speaking. "Just press it into the wound. Then I should wrap it."

"Okay." Prince Link's hands were shaking as he pressed the fabric into the puckered stab wound on Zelda's upper leg. Then he raced back to the saddle bags, grabbing more long, white strips of cloth. Zelda resisted the urge to cup the wound again with her hands, but it was difficult. The wound burned with pain once the nettosante potion touched it, which compounded with the pain Zelda was still feeling everywhere else in her body. She tried to breathe through it, focusing on imagining her breaths flowing into the spots that felt the most pain, but it was tricky to conjure any sort of mental image-everything hurt now. Then the Prince was back, pressing gently against the hole in her dress with his fresh cloth. His eyes were focused and intense, the bright blue staring down at her wound as he carefully tucked the edges of the fabric against her skin. Then his face flushed as he froze, and his gaze shot up to hers before quickly settling on her shoes. "Uh, you should probably wrap it around your leg. I-I'll just go over here." He stepped back and stumbled away, out of Zelda's sight.

Why did-Zelda glanced down at the fresh bandage and realized that the Prince would've had to reach under her dress in order to wrap the bandage tightly around the stab wound. Blushing, she lifted up her skirt and did it herself, her fingers shaking as she knotted the fabric over her wound.

By the time she heard the shuffling of leaves that signified the Prince's return, Zelda had shifted to sit on the soft forest floor rather than the rough log. She leaned up against the log and extended her legs out in front of her, trying not to look at her bloodstained dress and the pile of bloody rags next to her. The sun had dropped below the horizon while Zelda cleaned out her stab wound, and darkness was descending into the little clearing. She shivered; it wasn't cold by any means, but Zelda found herself dreading the moment when she couldn't see her fingers in front of her face again.

I didn't used to be afraid of the dark, Zelda noted bitterly, running the tips of her fingers along her thumbs.

The Prince stumbled into the clearing, sword unsheathed and panting heavily. The cloth around his wrists looked loose, and his eyes looked wild.

Zelda's heart raced, and she sat up jerkily. "What is it, what's wrong? Is something attacking?"

"What?" Prince Lincoln looked down at her distractedly. "No, I was just training." He tossed the disguised Master Sword to one side with a baleful look and sat in the ground across from her, groaning slightly.

Zelda barely noticed him, leaning back against the log again and trying to fill her lungs with air. This is okay, I'm fine, she repeated to herself. We're fine. She glanced at the Sword the Prince had so neglectfully tossed to one side. "Don't you realize how important that thing is? You just throw it around, do you?"

Prince Link glanced at her suspiciously, as if he sensed another argument. "That's what it does to me. I can't fight with it, it won't let me do anything. When I tripped and fell right in front of Blind? That was the Sword."

"It doesn't listen to you?" Zelda snorted. "It's just a sword."

Link shook his head darkly. "No ordinary sword yanks me around like that one does."

"And you've fought with plenty of ordinary swords, against your father's will?"

Link exhaled slowly. "Aren't you exhausted? How do you still have energy to criticize me?"

"I-" Zelda broke off, speechless. In truth, she hadn't been thinking about what she was saying. She was only trying not to think about the impending blackness that accompanied the night. I guess my default is to take out my frustration on the Prince. "I'm sorry. I'm still a little shaken from the hideout, I guess."

Link grunted, clambering back to his feet. "Let me get the shelter set up, and then you can get some rest."

Zelda nodded, watching as the Prince walked back over to the saddlebags. She still felt on edge around him; those sharp words he'd thrown at her in the castle still lingered in her thoughts, and Zelda could feel some unease in him as well. But it seemed he was genuinely trying to help her, something that surprised her. When did the spoiled prince decide to focus on someone else's problems for a change?

Prince Lincoln turned around, a huge canvas clutched in his arms. "Where do you think we should hang it up? Is there a good spot of ground around here?"

Zelda raised an eyebrow. "Your guess is as good as mine. It's all the same ground."

Lincoln shifted from one foot to the other. "I meant in terms of Foraging. Can you feel anything?"

Zelda stared up at him curiously. "What do you think Foraging is, highness? Like secret glasses to find hidden things around us? It doesn't really work like that. Dirt and leaves are still just dirt and leaves."

The Prince flushed, his ears turning red. "I-I'll just set it up between those trees then." He nodded at two trees closely situated on the opposite side of the clearing.

"Not there," Zelda replied, squinting at the wet grass at the base of the trees. "It's already all wet. We'll be soaked before it even gets dark."

Prince Lincoln rolled his eyes. "Then where would you suggest?"

Zelda closed her eyes again, wishing for sleep but not wanting the darkness. "Look for dry ground and not too much dirt."

She heard the Prince grumble and shuffle off to another tree, and Zelda inhaled deeply, her body still groaning in protest. Maybe she could just stay here for the night? Was it worth it to try to get up and roll out her bedroll? The soft sounds of the Prince shifting the canvas reminded Zelda that she wasn't alone, and she slipped into a daze-not quite asleep, but certainly not awake.

"Zelda?" She felt a hand on her shoulder, and she jerked awake. Prince Lincoln withdrew quickly, his wrist wrappings fluttering into her face. "I found some firewood. Maybe you could get us a fire going while I roll out our bedrolls?"

Zelda opened her mouth to protest that she could take care of her own bed, but the pain in her chest stopped her. "Sure. I can do that. Where's your campfire?"

Link pointed to a pile of logs that seemed to emerge from the dirt in the center of the clearing. "Right there. I dug a little pit too."

I was asleep for that long? Zelda swallowed and nodded. She sought for some heat around them, but there wasn't anything too hot in the forest now that the sun had gone down, and she settled for gathering in some of the heat from her own mouth. It was not a Gathering place Zelda often used, but it would take too long to find heat anywhere else. Inhaling slowly, she Released heat on the logs the Prince had piled on the ground several feet away, and the wood crackled before flames peeked through the bark. The fire cast the clearing into orange light, and Zelda felt herself relaxing more, her eyelids drooping. Then a thought struck her, and her eyes shot back open. As they lit a fire, there was a chance some of the thieves would find them from either the smoke or the light itself. Struggling, she pushed herself upright again and reached a hand out toward the fire. Foraging could use several different ways to hide, the most effective being to Gather in all the light so everything left was dark. But Zelda didn't really like the idea of spending the rest of the evening and the night in pitch blackness again, so she opted for a technique she'd taught herself. Holding her breath, she focused on the light gray smoke that wafted up from the fire and Gathered in some of the haze, then releasing it along the perimeter of their campsite. There was a gentle whoosh as the haze materialized around them, and Zelda relaxed.

She heard a thump, and she looked over to see the prince sitting on his bedroll carefully peeling off his wrappings. The canvas shelter hung down from the trees, coming to the point at the top as the sides hung down to hover above the ground. Link had bound the canvas to the trees at about eye level so that there were some nice walls and a sloping roof over their heads. Her own bedroll was laid out about four feet from his, up against the opposite side of the canvas. The fire was in plain view of the make-shift tent, bringing Zelda a degree of comfort.

She braced her hands on the ground and rolled over onto her knees, staggering to her feet as pain rushed through her body.

"Are you-Let me-" The Prince jumped to his feet, but Zelda was already staggering across the clearing.

"Just help me down again," she grumbled, ducking under the low ceiling of the canvas. She felt arms clasp her elbows, and Prince Lincoln slowly lowered her down onto her bedroll. Zelda sighed in relief and tucked her feet underneath her blankets, her eyes slipping closed. The crackling of the fire and the gentle bubbling of the creek nearby soothed Zelda, and it wasn't long before she fell asleep.

Zelda was awakened suddenly as the canvas brushed up against her nose. Instantly, Zelda was awake and Gathering wind, and she pushed herself up into a sitting position, her ribs and hips aching in protest. Confused, she blinked and peered around. It was still dark, but not pitch black-for which Zelda was grateful. The tones of dawn colored the little shelter a charcoal gray, and Zelda's eyes sought out the Prince on the opposite side of the tent, but his bed roll was empty. The blankets were thrown to one side, and the wall of canvas was undulating slowly.

Oh no. Zelda gritted her teeth as she staggered to her feet and Gathered in some moonlight, forming a quick little light at her shoulder. I knew it was a bad idea to camp so close to the road. Someone must've seen him and the Sword-

She froze in the act of pushing aside the canvas, staring at the scene in the clearing before her. Prince Lincoln, breathing heavily, was clutching two rocks and scraping them against each other up against the now-blackened logs of their campfire. He was wearing a thin cotton t-shirt that clung to him as he moved, and his shaggy blond hair was loose around his shoulders.

'Y-your highness?" Zelda swung her moonlight up into her hand, and she stepped forward, the light shining down into the Prince's face. He started, the rocks falling from his grip as he stared up at her. His eyes seemed to flicker between black and blue, but as Zelda leaned closer, he blinked quickly, and then they were blue again. The moonlight seemed to soothe him, and his shoulders relaxed as Zelda came closer.

"What-what are you doing?" Zelda asked, staring at the two rocks now lying in his lap. "Were you trying to start a fire?"

Link nodded, his breathing still coming in quick gasps. He clenched his hands in his lap and stared down at the ground.

"Prince Lincoln? Are you okay?"

"Don't do that," he gasped, still refusing to meet her eyes. "You sound like my father."

Zelda frowned in confusion. "What?"

"Link," he whispered. "Call me Link." He shuddered and hunched over himself, his hair falling into his face and hiding his eyes.

Zelda felt a thrill in her stomach. Her mind flashed back to her first meeting with the Prince as he thrusted a dagger forward into her face. That dominating person seemed so different from the quivering person at her feet. She swallowed and crouched in front of Link, trying to suppress the grunt of pain.

"Link," she said quietly, staring up into his face. "What's wrong?"

His eyes shot up to meet hers, his gaze wide and glassy. His mouth was open as he continued to breathe heavily, and his face was pinched in an unfamiliar expression.

Zelda inhaled sharply, ignoring the pain in her ribs. "Did you...did you have a nightmare?"

Some of the glassiness faded from his gaze. "What?"

"A nightmare. Like..." She stopped herself from saying Sheik's name. "Like you had the other night."

He shuddered, exhaling slowly. "Yeah. I guess it was."

Zelda hesitated. Her instinct was to comfort and support, but something still held her back. Even with this new side of the Prince, she felt uneasy responding to his confession. She opened her mouth, but Link cut across her.

"Darkness," he muttered, his gaze shifting to the ball of moonlight in Zelda's hand. "So much darkness."

A shiver ran up Zelda's spine, and suddenly she was pawing at broken glass back in Misery Mire. She inhaled sharply, and the Prince's icy blue eyes brought her back to the present.

"Let's get a fire going," she said abruptly, Gathering heat from her blankets and relighting the campfire. Link jumped as the fire sparked to life, but he relaxed as the heat spread through the clearing. "That should help clear up the darkness."

Link took a deep breath and let it out slowly, his hands slowly unclenching in his lap. "Thanks."

"Don't mention it." Zelda limped over and sat on the log next to the Prince. She didn't trust herself to speak; she couldn't expose her own weakness, not while the Prince was just beginning to trust her skills again. She didn't dare offer any comforting words either, in case he shot back something in his anger. So they sat side by side, gazing into the fire, until the sun rose over the horizon.