A/N: Okay, many apologies. This has been really weird for some reason and the last half of the fic was all that showed up. I just found this out yesterday, so I'm getting on to fix it. Now the entire fic is here in all of it's original glory from beginning to end and will actually make sense. It's only one chapter, but rt's purty long, so deal. I hope you like it, and enjoy very much me pallies! Enjoy! ^_~

Disclaimer: I **STILL** do not own any part of Zelda which is owned by Nintendo who I do not want to sue me. So again, I am not staking claim to any of this stuff.

It all began just before daybreak. The sound of heavy footsteps and loud groans woke the first of the Kokiri children. Mina, one of the elder Kokiri children rushed out of the house, a sudden fear catching in her chest and expanding to every corner of her body so quickly she didn't know if she would be able to contain it. The creature was collapsed on the ground, it's bright red hair, long and straight, pooling around her face. She was lovely with fair skin and slightly pink cheeks. She looked pale and dirty, and on the abdominal portion of her dress, there was soaking stain of red; more red than the hair growing from its head. Whatever it was, it was injured. The creature lifted it's head, it's silver eyes peering out from beneath the long strings in her face. She tried to speak, but failed, collapsing once again on the ground. Suddenly, Mina realized what the creature was, and the fear became even worse.

There was a Hylian in the forest.

A living, breathing Hylian woman.

She panicked, and did the only thing she could think of to do. Running full speed, she rushed toward the Great Deku Tree's Meadow, shouting all the way, "A Hylian! A Hylian!" Soon, the entire forest was awake, all panicking.

Saria looked out from the doorway of her treehouse, taking a quick glimpse of the creature called a Hylian. Her arms and legs were stretched, long, quite grotesque to the young Kokiri. Staring at the things Saria assumed were her arms, she noticed something...

Held closely to the creature's chest was a tiny bundle...

More importantly...

The bundle was moving...

Not one of the Kokiri's made a move toward the creature, the intruder in their forest. Léna had come here, hoping for shelter, some sort of protection. All she found was emptiness...

She had hoped to find the legendary Deku Tree, but now it seemed that dream, too, was lost.

Shutting her eyes, she pulled her child close to her, the child letting out a tiny whimper, then a long, piercing cry. Lena felt tears seep from her eyes. She had no strength left to comfort the babe. All she could do was sit. Sit and try to remember all that had happened.

"Morden..."

* * *

Léna sat in the rocking chair in the tiny house somewhere along to path to Kakariko. It was surrounded by a little grove of trees, which her husband Morden had built their house out of, as well as the rocking chair. The house was of simple design, save the few elegant carvings made into the rafters and the walls, painted in light pastels. It was furnished with few items: a wooden table with two chairs, one bed, and a cradle. The reason for the cradle was in her arms at the moment, sleeping peacefully, his tiny eyes closed. She pushed back the soft tuft of corn colored hair lovingly, taking in a deep breath of air. The air was dank and moist because of the hard rain outside. She made sure she held her little Link close to keep him warm. A cold would be the worst thing that could happen to the poor child at this time. Morden's income from his service in the King's Royal Guard wouldn't pay enough for the medicine which she would have to travel to the castle market's bazaar to buy. It should have, though.

An involuntary shiver ran down Léna's spine. These were dangerous times for the Hylian Guard; too many Gerudo forces pressing in at once. And with Morden being reassigned to the line near the LonLon Ranch, the danger only increased. Her eyes began to drift to the window where the rain pounded more heavily than before.

"Oh, Morden," she whispered, shaking her head. She could only pray for him to be safe, but knowing Morden, that would be the last thing he'd be. Léna sighed, looking at the child still in her arms. He more resembled his father. Morden was a strong large built man with corn-blonde hair and deep sky colored eyes. She on the other hand was slender. Her straight stringy red hair, which was elbow length, fell around her face. 'Almost like a picture frame,' Morden used to say. And also that she was the prettiest picture of all. Looking at the dark reflection in the window, she could disagree. But there was one feature she did enjoy about herself. The way her silver eyes were enhanced on her pale pink-petal skin. She had always been pale, whereas Morden had always had a slight tan from all his service. He had been trained to be a knight in the Royal Guard since he was just a child. The tan had never really gone away. She looked down at her son again, smiling. The patch of blonde hair and his sleepy sky-blue eyes made him look like Morden, but he looked more like his mother in face. She tried to picture him years away, tall like his father with his inheritance of blue eyes and blonde hair, but with his mother's face, only it would be masculine. He would be a very handsome man one day, she would wager.

Link's tiny mouth formed a large round hole as he let out a long yawn, accompanied by a tiny squeak. Léna smiled to herself, holding him closer, wrapping the soft white blanket to cover him more thoroughly. Link would never have to go through what his father had. Link would live a perfectly normal life. He would help her around the home and never have to fight for Hyrule, Goddesses forbid. No, she would keep him safe. She would always keep him safe. And when Link would be five, Morden would be released from his duties at last, and he could pursue after his true calling: a carpenter. Léna smiled to herself, one hand running along the arm of the rocking chair, carved with such love and care. The quality of the pictures depicted on his work could not be matched in all of Hyrule, nor Termina, she would wager. And Link...

Link would be a carpenter as well. Morden could teach him and show him. The wars would soon pass and Morden could return to his true loves of carpentering and home-life.

A little hand wrapped around Léna's index finger as the sleepy eyes opened for a moment, then letting out another tiny yawn, fell back asleep. She stroked the tiny fingers gently.

He had his father's hands. With his father's hands, he and Morden would make quite a business. Her eyelids began to droop as the night began to reach her. Perhaps is was the dampness of the air that made her begin to doze, but whatever the heavy air that was drawing her into slumber was, she could find no way to shake it off.

Suddenly, she was jostled back to consciousness by a loud clash. She sat for a moment, thinking that perhaps it had only been the thunder. She glance out one of the windows. There had been no lightning...

The bang came again, Léna jumping slightly. Suddenly, she realized that it was coming from the door. Who in the name of the Golden Goddesses would be calling this late at night? Not many knew that there was even a house here. But nonetheless, she stood, hurrying over to the door, adjusting Link in her arms before reaching out and opening the door.

The cloaked figure rushed in, lowering her hood and shaking the rain from her short-cropped silver hair. Léna immediately recognized the woman. Her eyes were the deep shade of blood and wine, small tears tattooed on the ends of each eye, as any Sheikah would have. Her chest was covered in the hard metal plating of armor, the Sheikah eye-symbol engraved on it, the tear falling from it as well. Her leggings were cut far above the knee, allowing her to use her speed, and the wolfos hide boots came just above her ankle. Léna moved aside quickly, ushering the woman into her room, searched all around the room for a towel of blanket, finding one on the back of a nearby chair.

Her hand shot out and she offered the warmth to the Sheikah who hurriedly pushed her away, wringing out her cloak as she staggered toward the chair, leaning on its back for support.

"Impa?" she asked softly. "What's wrong? Is something wrong?"

Impa, still gasping for breath, nodded quickly. "The lines," she panted, her red eyes narrow. "The Gerudos have come more quickly than we thought."

Léna pressed a hand to her mouth in horror. "By the Triforce," she murmured, her thoughts registering. She stepped forward to Impa, grasping her forearm. "Morden," she whispered. "Is he alright?"

Impa nodded quickly. "Morden is fine, Lady Léna," she said, Léna relaxing visibly. "But I have news; new that is much more urgent."

Léna nodded to Impa, adjusting Link in her arms again. "What sort of news?" she asked, trying to sound confident.

Impa rubbed her hands together hard, trying to regain the feeling in her fingertips. "The enemy lines have been pressing north-east," she whispered. "The bulk of the Gerudo army will be passing right through your yard if we can't hold them back."

Lena paused a moment, this not quite registering. "What?"

Impa turned to the window, looking out at the sheets of black rain, falling in the black night. "Morden sent me to warn you... and also to bring you back with me."

Léna looked from her baby to the Sheikah, understanding- but pretending not to understand- what Impa was telling her. She slowly crossed the home, moving to where Impa stood, her back to Léna.

"What?" she asked softly.

"Morden said you have a horse of your own," Impa pressed, speaking over her shoulder to the woman. Léna nodded reluctantly.

"But she is a breeding horse... We've helped the Lon Lon with their breeding for years now."

"A small sacrifice compared to Gerudo's tearing your home apart while you are in it," Impa retorted calmly.

"But..." Léna looked down again at Link. "The baby-"

"Milady," Impa said softly. "If you don't, you run the risk of the thieves raiding your home and killing you... and your son." Léna continued to stare at the child who was already shivering from the draft in the house.

"But if I go, our child will catch a cold for sure." Impa dug a pouch out of her utility belt, girded around her waist. She handed the bag to Léna, pressing it into the woman's free hand.

"Mix this into water and feed it to him if he catches a cold," she said, then gently nudged her forward. "Hurry, Milady. We don't have much time." Léna pocketed the bag, hurrying to the chair she had draped her cloak over, slipping it on with the one free hand, Impa standing at silent attention. Léna fastened the small jeweled clasp at the neck of the cloak, putting up the hood and starting toward Impa. She paused, turning to look at the Sheikah, who looked back unwaveringly at Léna. The Hylian woman swallowed, looking down at Link before speaking.

"Impa... will we ever see our home again?' she asked. Impa pause a moment, looking at Léna hard. Finally, she shut her eyes and slowly shook her head.

"I don't think so, Milady," she whispered. Léna shut her eyes tightly, letting out a tiny sob, which she covered by a cough. Her eyes went moist as she stared the ground, swallowing hard. She needed to be strong now. She pulled the cloak around tightly, covering her arms and the child.

"I'm ready, Impa," she whispered softly, not to show her cracking voice. The Sheikah nodded, opening the door again, putting up her own hood.

"We must go quickly and silently, Milady," Impa whispered. Léna nodded quickly.

"My horse is in the stable only a rock's throw from here," she said. Impa bowed.

"I shall bring him to you. We don't want to risk one of Hyrule's next knights to the storm, no?" she smiled, looking at Link through the opening in the cloak. Léna looked at Impa, pulling the cloak closer around her, hiding Link.

"Not a knight," she whispered so softly she wasn't sure if Impa even heard. There was a slight pause, Léna looking at the house. An urgency filled her and she called out to Impa in the storm. "There are few things I wish to take!"

Impa turned, not far from the home, but hard to hear over the beating rain. "Gather them while I get the horse, Milady," Impa called to her, then began again toward the stable. Léna nodded to herself, watching until Impa disappeared into the blackness.

She hurried inside her home, laying Link into the cradle so she could gather her things. The only things she wanted were right by her bedside. She hurriedly grabbed the lantern, setting it on the floor as she knelt by her bedside. She lifted up the corner of the straw-filled mattress, looking under the mattress until she found what she was looking for. She withdrew the jewel-filled sword, taking it out of the scabbard looking at it for a long while. It was the item of most worth in the entire house. It was a rather simple design: a thick metal blade made of the finest silver in Hyrule, elegant towers of smoke streaming from the bottom, curling around the sword, impressed into the blade, as well as the small Triforce at the bottom. The hilt was made of Zoranian pearls pressed into white gold. Another Triforce was pressed into the hilt, but rather than the traditional gold that the Triforce was denoted by, it was made of green, blue and red jewels, each representing the goddess of that Triforce. She sighed. Her grandfather did such wonderful workmanship, even from so long ago. It was a shame Link would never know him, nor his own grandfather. Both her grandfather and her father and even her brother had died in battle while wielding this sword. That was why she would never let Morden use it. The people she loved were always destroyed by the sword, and all of them had been knights. But then again, the sword did possess special powers. Perhaps, at a later time--

No, Morden's hands would never touch the hilt of this sword.

She slipped it back into the scabbard, tying the leather cord around her slender waist. Only she would wield it, and only in defense. She made sure the sword was hidden under the cloak, but still accessible, then hurriedly took the lantern to the table, lighting a tiny flame inside and closing the glass door, then rushing to the cradle, lifting Link into her arms. No, she couldn't carry him like this. She grabbed one of the thin sheets from the bed, tearing it into a smaller strip. From that, she created a makeshift sling, tying it around her shoulder, but rather than cradling her arm in the fabric, she cradled her son. With the sword at her side and Link close to her chest, she was ready. She grabbed the lantern just as the door opened again. Impa was drenched once again even from the very short excursion outside.

"Are you ready, Lady Léna?" she asked, standing just outside the door. Léna took one last look around the small home, letting out a long sighed, then nodded.

"Yes,"she whispered. "I am ready."

Morden sat at the table in the small room, staring at the warm cup of milk that he had been brought. One of his fellow soldiers, Jan, nudged him.

"Milk is for drinking, you know," he said, chuckling. Morden smiled slightly at this, looking at Jan who stared back with his one eye. Jan's other eye had a white cloth across it, tied around his head where he had lost it only a few days ago.

"I'm just worried, I think," Morden whispered. "And I'm not really thirsty." Another soldier, Nathe, raised his eyebrows.

"After being out in a storm like that you can't even take a sip?" Morden sighed, looking deeper into the glass of swirling white liquid, thinking..

"I'm just quite worried, that's all... Really."

"About what?" Jan pressed. Morden looked up from the cup, looking at Jan for a long while. Jan looked for a moment as though he would withdraw the inquiry, but realized that was just what Morden wanted him to do. So he continued to stare back until Morden couldn't take the pressure anymore. Finally, returning his gaze to glass of milk, Morden spoke.

"The Gerudos are supposed to pass the homestead in an hour or so," he whispered, his finger running along the rim of the mug. Nathe leaned back in his chair.

"Well, that's not too bad," he shrugged. "You'll just have to find yourself a new hous-"

"No, no," Morden said hurriedly. "You don't get it. Léna and the baby are still there."

"Say what?" asked Jan softly, his voice rising in pitch.

"Didn't she get the evacuation notice for that area three days ago?" Nathe added. Morden nodded.

"She did, but I got a letter from her today that said she had decided to stay." Morden looked up from the cup, a half-smile on his face. "She thinks she's tough enough to take on a Gerudo," he said, no disdain or contempt in his voice. Only a slight wonder and admiration of a husband for his wife. Jan shook his head, looking at his friend for a long while before speaking.

"Well, by this time tomorrow, she'll have had her chance," he muttered. A slight pause came up, Jan eyeing his friend, seeming somewhat pained. "Uh... Morden?" Morden allowed Jan his full attention. "You know I think of Léna very highly. She's got enough spirit that, yeah, I'd wager she probably could take on a few Gerudos; three maybe. But, Mor, she's got a baby, and she's got a whole army coming to the homestead. There is no way she can fight all of them off."

"He's right, Mor," Nathe sighed. "I don't doubt Lé can take care of herself and the kid. This is about one-forth of their army we're talking about her going against." Morden looked up at them, nodded, his cheek-length blonde hair brushing his face gently.

"That's exactly what I was thinking," he sighed. "Which is why I asked Impa to run down there and tell Léna to get out of there, and if there was time, to bring Léna back here." Jan and Nathe both froze. Morden watched them, their eyes resting on him for a long while. "What?"

"Impa left?" Jan asked, then a little more panicked, "Impa left?!"

"What if they attack again?" Nathe gasped, grabbing Morden's shoulder, panicking. "Impa's the one who cast all those protection spells before we went out to battle! If they come, we won't have any magical protection!" Morden sighed, shrugging it off.

"They'd be fools to attack in this sort of weather." Jan sent his friend a withering gaze.

"They're Gerudos, Morden," he said, shaking his head. He paused, staring at his mug for a long while, letting a lengthy silence pass. "They'll come."

"Especially if that new leader of theirs gets his way," added Nathe with a sighed, looking down into his cup before downing the rest of the milk. Morden's finger tracing the rim of the mug stopped, he looking up, confusion plastered on his face.

"Hold on a second... His? There no 'hes' in the Gerudo army, let alone a leader." Jan and Nathe looked at each other.

"Uh," began Nathe. "I thought you heard." Morden shook his head.

"No one told me anything," he said. Jan took a drink from his mug. Lowering it, he began his tale.

* * *

"Open the gate!" came the low bellow from the watchman. The sound of cords tightening was drowned out by the new sheet of rain and the thunder of the gods as a streak of light burned to the ground. Men heaved to open the gate just enough for the man to squeeze in. The gate was built only for the army and would be taken down as soon as they left, but for now, it was the only way to make the ranch a true safehold.

"He's coming!" called the other watchman. Jan managed to wipe the rain from his eyes and grabbed the rope again before his lost his grip.

"Pull again!" called the squad leader. "HEAVE!"

"HO!" echoed the men, though it came out more as a jumbled groan.

"Where is he?" barked one of the men.

"Hold it tight!" screamed the leader in response. "Just a little longer."

"The rope is slipping!" yelled another squad leader to the watchman. "What's taking him so long?"

"He's walking!" one screamed. The other denounced the statement.

"No he's not! He's limping!" called the watchman. "By the Triforce, he's injured! Someone get help! He's injured!" The squad leader turned and somewhere beneath the thick black beard, he spoke.

"Nathaniel!" roared the squad leader. Nathe looked up from the rope, it becoming harder to concentrate on the sliding rope while listening to the leader. "Go get him!"

"Yes, Sir," Nathe murmured. "Right away." Jan managed to nudge his friend with his elbow as he went by.

"Be safe," he shouted over the storm. Nathe nodded, running to the gate and grabbing a torch. He turned, looking at his squad one last time, then hurried out.

The night was thicker than blood, and the rain was thicker than the night. Nathe attempted to cover his face and perhaps dry himself for a few seconds, but with the rain as hard as it was, it was near impossible. His eyes quickly scanned the area, looking for this injured soldier. A hacking cough in the distance demanded his attention. He hurried over in the direction, calling out to the night.

"Hello?" he screamed as loud as he could, only to be drowned by the pounding rain. A tiny answer came in response. Nathe immediately ran in the direction of the sound, seeing one of his fellow warriors lying on the ground, reaching up to him. Nathe fell to his knees, lifting the man's arm over his shoulder, and pulling him to his feet. Nathe felt as all of the man's weight pressed on him. He had to get the man back to the safehold at LonLon as soon as possible.

"Wait for it! Wait for it!" came the scream from the front lines. The two men had hardly squeeze through than the men's cord flew from their hands, creating a rumble to rival the thunder. The nearest squad leader motioned frantically with his hands.

"Get him to the clinic! The clinic!" he screamed angrily at Nathe. Jan ran from his position to help his friend. He joined on the other side of the injured man, taking half of the weight from Nathe's shoulders. The two hurried the man to the stable where it had been cleaned out to allow healers to come in and help the men. They laid the man down on the makeshift table, Jan running to alert the nearest healer while Nathe began taking off the man's armor, looking for the wound. When he removed the helmet, he noted the man was one of the elder soldiers, his hair starting into the silvery whiteness of age. After the slight shock had passed, Nathe began to take off the breastplate, finding the injury with ease; a good clean cut into the chest. The man was still breathing, but slowly and shallowly.

"I'll alert someone," Jan told Nathe quickly, hurrying away toward a group of healers discussing another man's leg condition.

Nathe sighed, staring at the man on the table. He was pale from blood loss and moved only when he wheezed in air. He looked away, the sight to saddening for him to remain looking at it. He began to turn away when it happened.

The old man grabbed his hand with such force, Nathe could feel his wristbones snapping under his grip. The force on his hand had to be the man's very last ounce of strength. Nathe winced, trying to loosen the elder's grip, letting out a tiny gasp of pain.

"They draw close," managed raspily, his grip tightening.

"Who?" asked Nathe softly.

"The desert folk... Gah..." the man whispered, his eyes glossing a bit. "Gah..."

"What?" Nathe panicked. "Are you in pain?" The man's hand went cold in his.

"Gannondorf," he whispered. Nathe's eyes narrowed.

"What?"

"Gannondorf," he hissed again, his eyes beginning to shut. "He... he is still out there..."

"Who is still out there?" Nathe asked quickly. "Someone's out there? Is it one of our men."

"He is out there," the old man hissed, his grip tightening again on Nathe's hand, causing the soldier to literally scream aloud from the pain.

Jan finally rushed the healer over, she not looking very happy with being hassled by the soldier. Nathe continued to struggle the old man's grip, now like marble stone, permanently encased around his hand, and the healer did nothing to help him.

"Here he is," he said. "Can you help him?" The healer bit her lower lip, her bold yellow eyes narrowing. After a moment of close inspection, she shook her head.

"I'm sorry, gentlemen," she whispered. "It's too deep." Nathe, struggling the whole time, finally managed to free his hand from the crazy old man. Nathe had been too grateful to free himself of the man's grip, he didn't truly grasp the healer's words. Jan, however, replied by slamming his fist against the wall, furious.

"What? That's it? You take one look at him and say that-"

"Sir," the healer said, quickly becoming angry. "I have already told you that nothing I can do will help him-"

"You can't just walk away!" Jan screamed above the rush of the healer's room.

"Jan," snapped Nathe, elbowing his friend hard. He turned to the healer. "Forgive us, Miss."

She nodded, "It's fine." Then she straightened her apron, turning and walking away.

Jan glared at his friend, shaking his head. "That's it?" he hissed.

"There's nothing she can do," Nathe said, looking at the old man, now motionless on the table. He sighed deeply, rubbing his bruised wrist. "He was gone a moment ago." Jan looked at Nathe.

"Well, now how do we know what we're supposed to be on the lookout for?" Jan demanded. Nathe paused a moment, thinking back.

"He said they were getting close."

"Who?" Jan asked.

"The Gerudos," he replied, staring at the man.

"Well, we all knew that," Jan muttered, turning away. Nathe continued staring at the man.

"He also said something else," he whispered.

"Said what?"

Both men snapped to attention as Impa entered the stable. She walked toward them, taking off the long, black gloves, rubbing her hands together. She motioned to the man on the table. "Was he the one who was outside of the gates?"

Nathe nodded. "Yes, Ma'am," he said softly.

"And what did he say?" she asked, her red eyes piercing the two men.

Nathe swallowed, trying to remember everything the dying man told him. "He said that the Gerudo's have come close to our position."

Impa nodded. "I thought as much," she whispered softly. "And the other thing he said?" Nathe thought a moment.

"He said... well..."

"What?" she pressed. Nathe became quite confused.

"Well, he said... Gannondorf," he told her.

Impa's eyes clouded. "Gannondorf? What's a Gannondorf?"

Nathe and Jan exchanged confused looks. "I thought it would be some sort of command or place." Impa merely shrugged.

"Not that I know of," she sighed.

"He kept saying 'He is still out there,'" Nathe added. "I don't know, but I thought maybe there was another soldier out there."

"I don't think we sent anyone else out," Impa said firmly.

"Maybe Gannondorf is the name of a soldier or something," Jan offered quickly.

"I don't know any men with that name," Impa said, still doubtful.

"He kept saying 'he's still out there,'" Nathe said impatiently. "If he's talking about a soldier, we need to get out there now."

Impa looked at the two a good long time. It was clear she didn't want to let any one else outside of the ranch, especially after something like this. "Are you sure of what he said?"

"I'd swear it upon the Triforce," Nathe said softly.

Impa sighed, rubbing her temples. "We are bound by duty, then, to check on the warning. You were the one who found him, no?"

"He was practically in the gate already," Nathe responded, not liking where this was going.

"But you saw the direction from which he came?" Impa pressed.

"Well, yes..."

"Then you two are coming with me," Impa said, looking at Jan, then at Nathe. "We'll search for about an hour. If we don't find anything, or if we are spotted, we'll have to pull out. Be ready to go in five minutes, gentlemen. Meet me by the outside gate." And with that, the Sheikah left the healing room.

* * *

"Did you find him?" Morden asked, now on his second glass of milk.

"Nothing," Nathe sighed. "Just mud and rain."

"Well, that's not entirely true," Jan said, running his finger around the rim of his mug.

"What do you mean?" asked Morden, suddenly intrigued.

"We could see the Gerudo army getting ready to make their move," Jan sighed.

"That was lucky," Nathe agreed. "We noticed the tents were coming down. A good sign they were getting ready to move. Impa ordered us to turn around, which we did, and she told everyone to get ready for battle."

"All of the men were on horseback or in lines, standing in front of the ranch," Jan remembered. "We were watching as one of their larger groups pressed toward the ranch."

"All the women were clad in their leather armor," Nathe said softly. "Head to toe. They had their archers, swordswomen, battering rams, the whole collection."

"Nathe and I were talking about the odds," Jan said. "They had to have outnumbered us by at least three to one." Morden's eyes widened.

"Was this the battle a few days ago when we lost almost half of the 2nd regiment?" Nathe and Jan nodded slowly.

"We were lucky to survive," whispered Nathe. Jan swallowed, tapping the patch and managing a small smile, though it was more of a wince..

"I wasn't quite as lucky as Nathe, though," he whispered. The table went silent for a while, the mood in the room suddenly dark. Finally, Nathe began to speak again.

"Anyway," he said. "The two commanders came to the front of the line. They looked like they were talking about something. Both wore the hooded cloaks, so we didn't see their faces." Nathe stopped for a while, looking into Morden's eyes, but not at Morden.

Morden leaned back, watching his friend curiously. Nathe had blanked out, in a way. His gaze was glossy and clouded all at once. He thought about speaking, trying to wake his friend from this trance he was in, but the secondary fear of Nathe not being able to remember the tale was greater than that of the first. Nathe looked at Jan, who merely nodded, then after another moment of thinking, resumed the story.

* * *

The entire force of the Hylian Royal Guard stood their ground at the Southwest end of the LonLon Ranch. All stood in total silence in the rain, Impa taking the lead position on her horse. No one moved. No one made a sound. But then again, no one dared to. The rain hid them well, true, but it also hid the Gerudo forces. One sound from anyone, and their position could be given away. Jan and Nathe's squad sat crouched together as tightly as possible, trying to use the last of their body heat to keep each other warm, but no one stayed warm in a storm like this. Everyone knew it was madness to attack on a night like this. Everyone, that is, except the Gerudos apparently. What if the old man had been wrong? What if this was just a waste of time and there were no Gerudo forces out? The thought had only just crossed Nathe's mind when Jan blurted it out.

"You know, this is really stupid." A few other men in the squad whispered their agreements as softly as possible.

"But if we didn't come out," Nathe sighed, "Then we would never have found out whether or not there is a danger."

"The only danger here is drowning," Jan chuckled, looking up. "I think we-" They all froze as a light appeared in the distance. As quickly as it appeared, it disappeared.

A high-pitched trilling war cry pierced the night. It started first as one, then another, then the entire night shook with the call of desert women.

The damp clop of horse hooves on soaking earth broke around the men as Impa rode on her mighty steed toward the squad. "Who gave away our position?!" she roared over the rain as the noise of the Gerudo began to drown the sound of rain.

"I thought I was whispering!" Jan whimpered as the men in their squad pointed at him.

"You thought wrong," Impa growled. "I could hear you from my original spot in line! Now they know we're here!"

"gannondorf... gannondorf... gannondorf..."

The men began to look around worriedly. The war cry of the Gerudo women had changed.

"What are they saying?" Impa murmured.

Jan frowned, struggling to hear. "It... sounds like..."

"Gannondorf?" Nathe said, echoing the noise in the background.

"Gannondorf?" Impa asked, her facing twisting in confusion. "Wait a moment... Isn't that what the old man was saying?"

The war cries mixed in with the chanting. The voices seemed to come from everywhere. The rain made the voices ghostly float all around them, echoes from the distant canyon walls magnifying the horrible sounds and the maddening chant.

"Gannondorf... Gannondorf... Gannondorf..."

"What does it mean?" Impa asked. "This..." Impa's silvery skin went a strange white-grey color as her eyes widened.

"What is it?" Jan asked. He turned to Nathe, his friend now staring in the same direction as Impa, his skin gone the same paste-like color. "What are you guys looking at? What's-"

He felt the little heat left in his body fly from him as his blood stopped moving through him, his heart refusing to beat. Two riders on horse back stood on the distant hill, a lantern between them, lighting their faces. The first was a woman, long, fire-red hair, as all other Gerudos had, but was dressed in ornate jewelry and armor; no doubt their leader.

The second also had the Gerudo hair, ornate jewelry and armor, but there was something about this Gerudo that was different from the entire army...

It was a man...

"Gannondorf! Gannondorf! Gannondorf!"

The chants grew louder as the man, now clearly defined as the leader reached down toward his waist. His hand curled securely around what he reached for, and his large, thick arm lifted it above his head...

A sword.

The chants were now crazed cheers of insanity. The sharp trills became longer, more wild and violent sounding. Metal sounds like swords and shields being banged in the background became louder, the army nearly silencing the roar of rain and thunder.

"GANNONDORF! GANNONDORF! GANNONDORF!"

"Gentlemen," Impa said, her voice barely audible over the roar of the Gerudo. "I think we have found what Gannondorf is..."

The Gerudo man, this Gannondorf, raised his sword high in the air. After holding it there for a moment, he pointed his sword in the direction of Impa and Jan's squad.

Leaning his head back, a high-pitched war cry split the night.

It had begun.

* * *

Morden took a deep breath after his friends finished their tale. "A man?" he murmured.

Jan nodded solemnly.

"In the Gerudo Army?" Morden repeated in shock.

"Sounds crazy, doesn't it?" Nathe said with a wry grin.

Morden shook his head. "More than crazy," he murmured. "Impossible." He paused a moment, gazing thoughtfully as he let his eyes wander along the woodgrain of the table. Finally he looked up. "Are you sure it was a man?"

Jan laughed bitterly. "Trust me, it was a man."

"But can you really be sure," Morden said, leaning his elbows on the table. "Perhaps it was just a... larger woman with a more masculine buil-"

"Mor," Nathe said quietly, silencing his friend. He looked for a moment as Jan, who said nothing, only stared angrily into his cup. Nathe looked back to Morden. "The man, the one at the head of the Gerudo army..." Nathe paused to purse his lips, choosing his words cautiously. "He was the one that put out Jan's eye."

Morden was taken aback. "What?" he whispered softly. Jan said nothing, only tried to avoid his friends' eyes. "Jan, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to-"

"It's not your fault," Jan sighed quickly. "It's just..." He looked up from his cup, staring a moment at the ceiling. As though in a trance, he moved his hand up to touch the patch. The moment his fingers brushed it he recoiled as though from a snake, or taking his hand out of some intense flame. He licked his lips, his gaze finally returning to his friends. "I think I would remember the last thing I saw before he struck me. I remember ever detail; the rain, mud on my armor, the horses nearly trampling me... almost like I could go back and stop it... somehow. But as I look at that moment before it happened... I realize" Jan shook his head. "I can't. There was no way I could have gotten away. That Gerudo man was aiming for my heart... And... I know I should be grateful that I lost only this," he said, motioning to his eye, "But..."

Jan left his thoughts to the empty air, Morden and Nathe not willing to finish the thought. It was not their own. How could they possibly understand how Jan felt?

Morden didn't like how uncomfortable the silence was becoming. He carefully looked up, his eyes going from Nathe to Jan. "So, has he been in all the battles since?"

"Everyone," Nathe said, nearing exasperation. "This man is a military genius."

"It's like he knows what we're doing before we even know," Jan said quietly.

"They're getting dangerously close to Lon Lon," Nathe added as an afterthought.

"Are we going to have to evacuate?" asked Morden.

"To where?" Jan asked acridly. "The castle? Kakariko?" He took a long drink from his mug. When he finished, he set it down gently, letting out a soft breath. "They're doing just as badly as we are."

"What do those damn Gerudos want anyway?!" Morden suddenly exclaimed in a rush of emotion. "They've never been this hostile before! I mean, sure they'd raid places and steal things, but this is our first all-out war against them. Why such a change?"

"I bet that man has something to do with this," Jan said quietly. "They were never this bad under their last sultana, Naboora."

"Didn't she have a daughter?" Nathe asked.

"Yeah," Morden echoed. "A little girl named Nabooru."

"Then shouldn't she be the one in charge of the Gerudos?" he asked, looking quite perplexed. "I mean, think about it. That's the way it's gone in the past, right?"

"Does it make any difference?" Jan snapped. "That man is obviously in charge now, and there's nothing we can do about it... We'll probably loose Lon Lon before the week is even out."

"Don't say that, Jan," Morden sighed. "We have to keep our hopes up."

"I lost my hope along with my eye, Morden," Jan said intensely, his voice barely audible. "You try to look into those eyes... They were like glowing coals... Red, yellow, orange.... There was something about those eyes, Morden. You look into the Gerudo man's eyes, and then you tell me how much hope you have left."

Morden went silent, staring at the bottom of his mug, now completely drained. He was about to call out for another cup when the door to the room opened, rain and cold rushing in along with two figures, drenched from the storm.

Impa threw off her hood first, shaking her head of short, silver hair semi-dry and wiping the moisture from her cheeks. The second figure lowered her hood, revealing a head of soaked, red hair, pulled tightly back into a ponytail.

"Léna!" Morden gasped, rising to his feet.

"Morden," Léna said breathlessly as she removed her cloak with one hand. She held little Link in the crook of her arm, the baby, surprisingly, deep in sleep. Lena felt her husband's arms pull her into a tight embrace. She pressed her head to his chest, surprised to smell the scent of blood and gunpowder, instead of the sawdust and pine needles that she had grown to accustomed to. She stayed there, clinging to him tightly for several moments, not willing to let him go. She had been without him for so long, stayed too many sleepless nights, listening to the rain outside of the window, lying alone in a cold bed; too many times where she reached for that strong embrace only to find empty space. Now that she had him, she didn't want to let him go ever again.

Morden finally loosened his hold on his wife, leaning back to look at his son in her arms. "How is he?" he asked softly, staring at the tiny child with soft hair of white-gold.

"Still warm," Léna murmured as she pulled the blanket over the tiny child's arms. "I doubt this weather will do anything to him."

"How are you?" Morden asked tenderly, reaching out and pushing away the red hair that was sticking to her damp face.

She smiled tiredly. "I'm fine now. Tired, but fine."

"Good," Morden breathed in relief.

"I'm sorry to interrupt you both, Sir Morden and Lady Léna," Impa said softly. "But as we were riding in, we noticed the Gerudos are preparing to make an assault on the ranch."

"Again?" Nathe asked from the table. "That's the third time this week!"

"We have to get out there quickly," Impa said looking at Morden intensely. "I'm sorry, Morden, but this can't wait."

Morden sighed, slowly releasing Léna from his arms as the two other officers rose from the table. "What would you have us do?" he said quietly.

"Alert the troops on the west side of the ranch," Impa said quickly. "I'll handle those on the east side. We need to set up our picket lines before the Gerudos begin their attack."

"Right away, Ma'am," Morden sighed as Impa gracefully whisked out the door. Morden turned toward his wife. "I'm so sorry, Lé-"

Léna pressed her fingertips to his lips, shaking her head. "No, Morden, I understand." She looked up at him, taking in a long breath. "That's just the way war is."

Morden stood there for a long moment, trying to find words to comfort his wife, but he only found his mouth empty.

Jan came up and put his hand on Morden's shoulder. "Nathe and I will sound the call. We'll come back when we have our squad all together."

Morden smiled at his friend. "Thanks, J-"

Jan held up a hand, "It's nothing," he said, then motioned to Nathe to follow him.

"We'll be back in a flash," Nathe said as he and Jan whisked out the door.

Morden watched as the door closed behind the two men, leaving him alone with his wife and son. "I'm sorry about the-"

"It's not you that asked for the attack, Morden," Léna cut in. "You owe me no apology." Morden smiled at her. What had he done to deserve such a wonderful wife?

"You said you were tired?" he asked.

Léna nodded. "Yes, very. The trip was long and the weather is horrible. The mud is so thick Anopa could hardly walk through it. She may have sprained her foot."

Morden nodded woefully. Anopa was their best horse, a beautiful sorrel mare. She was a good strong horse, but any animal would break riding in these conditions, Morden knew.

"Did you put her in the stable?" Morden asked. Léna responded with a tiny nod. "Good," Morden sighed. He paused a moment, looking at the sleeping child in his wife's arm. "I hope he'll never have to fight as I do," he murmured thoughtfully. "I'm not proud of all the things I've had to do."

"We understand why you've done them, though," Léna replied instantly, touching her husband's forearm with care. "You've done them for us, Morden... for Hyrule."

"I wish I didn't have to," he whispered to her, his blue eyes sad. Léna lifted a hand up, cradling his cheek in her palm.

"Oh, Morden," she said, smiling softly. "I can only pray our son will grow up to be a man like you are."

"A warrior?" Morden murmured caustically.

"No," Léna said as she turned his face to meet her gaze. "Someone who knows where destiny leads us isn't always where we want to go, but, even so, that we become better for it."

Morden smiled slightly. "Is that truly what you think I am?"

"With all my heart," Léna chuckled. "It's why I married you."

Morden shook his head slowly, smiling broadly now. "I am not worthy of you."

"It was up to me to decide who was worthy or not," Léna replied quickly. "And you, my noble husband, are more than worthy enough."

Morden grinned happily, staring at his wife in awe for a long while. Finally, he spoke. "They've prepared a room upstairs for us," he said, motioning to the staircase. "When they heard that the forces were pressing hard for Kakariko and I needed to send for you, the head officers decided you and the baby could use the room more than they could. Most of our men are crammed into the barns and the stables."

Morden led her up the stairs, opening the door at the top, revealing a small, quaint bedroom. Léna entered as Morden continued speaking from the doorway. "They brought in an old cradle. It hasn't been used in a while, but they've put plenty of fresh blankets in it for the baby." Léna looked at the cradle placed next to the bed. She sat down, her hand reaching out to gently rock it. It creaked slightly as it rocked to and fro on the wooden floorboards. She slowly lifted the child from her arms, lowering him into his temporary bed. Link blinked his eyes open, taking in his unfamiliar surroundings tiredly. He was too sleepy to cry yet, though his soft coos and other various baby-noises made it clear he was a bit agitated to be in an unfamiliar cradle. But he looked up into his mother's large silver eyes, any fear that had been there suddenly gone. Léna lightly shushed the baby, brushing his cheek with her finger, his large eyes- as blue as his father's- becoming sleepy once again. Within moments, Link had fallen once more into a deep sleep.

Léna smiled, turning to look at Morden who smiled back. "I take it that's a good sign?"

"Very," she chuckled, playing with the tiny tuff of blonde hair on their son's head.

"Did you bring anything with you?" Morden asked. "Clothes? Blankets? Things of value? I told Impa to give you time."

"I had no way to carry anything," Léna responded shortly. "I only brought one thing."

"What was that?" Morden asked curiously.

Léna pursed her lips, standing slowly. She unclasped the cloak, heavy with rain water, hanging it on a hook nailed into the wall. Reaching for her belt, she showed him the sword.

Morden sighed tiredly. "Oh, Léna..."

"I wasn't going to leave it to those Gerudo wolves!" she snapped. "It was my father's and his father's before him." She stopped a moment, her hand tracing the hilt of the sword lovingly, brushing the gems and pearls pressed into the untarnished metal. "It's my only thing of worth."

"If the Gerudo had seen you with that they would have attacked you," Morden said softly as he walked across the room to meet her. "You know that."

"As I said, Morden, I couldn't leave it," Léna repeated as her silver eyes locked onto his of cool water. Morden diverted his gaze finally; her tone had ended the discussion.

Morden let out a deep breath. "Well, at least you got here safely," he said gratefully, taking her by the hands and pulling her in for a quick kiss. He smiled dolefully at her, rubbing her hands with his thumbs. "You need to get sleep."

Morden released her hands, making his way across the room toward the doorway. Léna watched him, frighten to see her husband starting out to the battlefield.

"Morden?" she called. He stopped in the doorway, turning to look at her. "When will you be back?" she asked, trying not to show her fear, only slight concern.

Morden shrugged. "Don't wait up for me," he murmured as he began down the stairs. "The Gerudos never put up an easy fight."

(A few weeks later...)

One of the Gerudo warriors rode bareback on her horse, making her way through the thick mud toward her commanding officers. Two of the Gerudos sat under a small canopy they'd set up, their horses tied just outside of the tiny encampment. They both sat at a table, hovering over a map, barely lit by a dim lantern, the flame inside flickering from the raging storm outside.

The warrior disembarked from her horse, hurrying over to where the two sat, talking in hushed voice, but even though it was quiet, the tension between the two was clear. The young warrior cleared her throat, the two leaders quieting and turning to face her.

"Lord Gannondorf, all our forces are ready," she said shortly. "All we do is await your command."

The huge man rose from his seat, the large black cloak flooding down behind him. "Excellent, Ayah. We will proceed to the front lines to give the signal."The woman nodded then hurried back to her horse, hefting herself on and disappearing into the night storm.

Gannondorf smiled to himself, starting to where a pair of armored gauntlets lay on a chest. He began putting them on The second figure rose from the table, bracelets and intricate armor jingling as she moved.

"You know I do not approve of this," Nabooru growled softly. Gannondorf said nothing to her, only continued to lace on the armor. Nabooru bristled at his silence. "Attacking their stronghold while they sleep? It is dishonorable!"

Gannondorf pulled the leather laces tight on the glove, securing it on his hand. "It doesn't matter if it is honorable or not," he replied placidly. "All that matters is that we can press our way to Hyrule Castle and the temple thereby."

"You are not worthy of the secrets of the sacred realm," Nabooru snapped harshly, storming across the tent to stand behind him. "You have no respect for the traditions of our people! For the old ways of Hyrule! You, My Lord, are nothing but a-"

Gannondorf whirled around, his unarmored hand colliding with the woman's face. The force of the blow knocked young Nabooru to the muddy ground. She sat there, shocked from the pain lancing through her head, blood trickling out of the corner of her mouth. Her long, red hair was soiled by the moist earth which covered her hands , legs, and body. Gannondorf walked toward her, grabbing her by the wrist and yanking her to her feet. "You shall never speak to me of such things," he growled viciously. "The old ways our dead..." He pushed her away violently, she stumbling back, bumping into the table, which she leaned on the regain balance. "You will never question me again, do you understand, Nabooru?"

Nabooru stared furiously through the dark purple bruise already beginning to form on the right half of her face. After a moment, she spat out her response like a bitter piece of fruit. "I understand, Sir."

Gannondorf reached for the second gauntlet. "Good," he murmured as he began lacing it up. "Then go to the secretives and tell them to sneak into the Hylian armory. You will inform me immediately of their return, and I shall give the call to attack."

Nabooru bowed slowly, he violet gaze burning hard on the back of the man's head...

"As you wish sir."

* * *

"SOUND THE ALARM!"

"WE'RE UNDER ATTACK! ALL MEN TO THEIR SQUADS!!"

Impa ran through the huddled masses of confusion as soldiers rushed around the Lon Lon Ranch frantically, trying to call everyone to arms. The source of the greatest panic and confusion seemed to be coming from a stable they had used as a makeshift armory for the time. Impa though, perchance the Gerudos might have broken through the wall somehow, but she would have heard cannon fire, she had no doubt. But soldiers crowded around the stable, some screaming, others cursing.

Impa pushed her way through the unruly crowd, trying to get inside the stable. One of the captains stood in the doorway, shaking his head over and over again, mumbling softly to himself as he rocked back and forth, hugging his torso.

"What is it?" Impa asked hurriedly, pressing her way toward the captain. "What's going on?"

"They're all gone," the captain whimpered crazily.

Impa frowned. "What? What's gone?"

"All of them!" the captain suddenly shouted. "They're all gone!"

"What is?" Impa shouted at him. She reached out, grabbing the man's shoulders and roughly shaking his. "Captain! What is gone!?"

The captain dissolved into sobs, falling to his knees in the mud. Impa sighed, unsure of what to do with the man. Unable to think of anything, she entered the stable. She supposed that she would have to be the one to hand out the weapons.

Then she realized what the captain was talking about.

"Do you see?" the sobbing man sniffed, trying to lift himself up from the mud. "It's all gone... All of it..."

All of the equipment- armor, shields, swords, bows, arrows, staffs, maces, javelins- it was all gone. Few of the men had their own equipment, and many of those who did had stored it in the armory nearly all of their army was without armor and weapons.

"Sages preserve us," Impa murmured softly, lifting both of her hands to the tattooed teardrops by her eyes.

Somehow, she doubted that her prayer would be heard.

* * *

Morden was awoken by the sound of banging on the door downstairs, shouting and other noises muffled by the shutters on the window. He tiredly sat up, Léna stirring beside him, her hand grabbing his arm.

"Morden," she groaned, sleep still hanging heavy on her.

He gently pried off her hand, moving toward the door. "I'll be right back," he assured her softly, grabbing his belt from the hook on the wall. His tunic hung loosely about his body as he notched the belt around his waist, walking toward the front door where the frantic banging was coming from.

Morden slowly opened the door, Jan stumbling in, carrying Nathe with one arm. Nathe was groaning terribly, and holding his chest...

The place where an arrow stuck jaggedly upward over his heart.

"By the Triforce!" Morden cursed, closing the door behind Jan. "What happened? What's all the commotion about?"

Nathe let out another groan as Jan shifted his weight, trying to hold him up. "They're here," Jan said breathlessly. "Th-they must have jumped the wall. They took everything-"

"Whoa, slow down, Jan," Morden said. "Who?"

"Gerudos," Jan said hurriedly. "They must have gotten into the armory..."

"What does the armory have to do with this?" Morden asked.

"It's all gone, Morden!" Jan suddenly shouted. "Our armor, our weapons, gone! They must have snuck in and taken it all... And now we're under attack."

"They shot me," Nathe groaned in agony, his face contorted in pain. "It came out of no where... dammit..." He let out another loud groan of anguish.

"Lay him down on the hay over there," Morden said, taking Nathe's other arm and putting it around his shoulder. Nathe gave a scream of pain through clenched teeth as his two friends tried to move him across the room. Jan and Morden gently lowered Nathe onto the bed of hay, he letting out another scream of pain.

The baby woke, a shrill cry splitting the storm's cry of thunder. Léna suddenly appeared in the doorway, a crying baby in her arms and a robe pulled over her nightdress, her red hair hanging loosely around her face.

"Morden!" she gasped. "What happened to-"

"We're under attack," Morden breathed quickly.

"The Gerudos have stolen all of our equipment," Jan explained while Morden tried to calm Nathe down, the soldier cursing and sobbing from the pain of the arrow in his chest. "We have no armor, no weapons... We're totally defenseless. We were trying to hold the gate shut... keep the Gerudos out... They started firing arrows over the walls" Jan looked quickly to his friend lying on the hay. "Nathe got hit..."

Léna shook her head slowly in shock, watching the two men crowding around their wounded friend.

"Now, Nathe," Morden said quickly, looking into his friend's eyes steadily. "I have to take a look at this; you need to let go of the arrow-"

"It hurts, Morden," Nathe hissed. "Goddesses, sages, and oracles it hurts!"

"I can't help you unless you let me see," Morden said, putting his hand over his friend's. "Now if you'll just-"

"No! No, Morden, no!" Nathe sobbed on the hay. "It hurts too much-"

"It's not going to get better unless you let me see it!" Morden said, raising his voice.

"No!"

Morden looked at Jan. "Hold his arms down. I need to pry his hands loose."

"No! No, no, no, no!" Nathe repeated over and over, his voice becoming more and more panicked as Jan held his arms to his sides, Nathe's hand still clutching the arrow in his chest. Morden wrapped his hand around Nathe's his fingers gently prying his friend's grip from the arrow. Finally, Nathe's hand fell loose, Jan grabbing his wrist and holding him down. Léna pressed a hand to her mouth and looked away. Blood thickly covered where Nathe's hand had been, the arrow sticking out of his chest still.

Morden, too, seemed a bit shaken at the sight of such thick blood, but he swallowed hard, trying to stay composed. "Léna," he murmured over his shoulder. "Get me that pitcher of water and a few rags."

Jan continued to hold Nathe down with little effort, Nathe now just lying calmly, his breathing shallow as he let out several low groans. His pain had to have been excruciating, and Morden was still unsure of how to treat the wound. Léna lay the pitcher and two clean rags between Morden and Jan, trying to keep her gaze away from Nathe's injuries. Morden began giving orders to Jan as Léna, holding Link tightly in her arms, turned away, starting toward the covered window outside. She could hear the struggling men and the cracking wood. She didn't know how much longer the gate would be able to withstand. It sounded weak, as though it would give way at any moment. She reached out as though to pull back the curtain, but quickly recoiled. The material seemed to burn her fingers. She could not bring herself to look upon what was happening outside. She turned to gaze at her husband. She could only hope that Morden would be finished soon.

Morden had managed to snap off the upper part of the arrow, not without Nathe giving a loud scream of pain, however. He tore open the man's tunic then reached for a rag. He dipped it into the pitcher of water, wringing it out with one hand, then began to clean around where the arrow had struck.

"Why didn't you take him to the healers?" Morden asked Jan in a rushed whisper.

"Even the healers are out trying to hold up the gate," Jan replied, wiping the wet hair from his brow. "We can't hold them back for much longer. They caught us completely by surprise."

Morden dipped the rag again into the pitcher, the water quickly turning a deep red as he wrung it out and began cleaning again.

"How do you think you're going to remove this arrow, anyway?" Jan whispered. "You're no healer, not to mention the Gerudo arrows..."

"What about the Gerudo arrows?" Morden asked, pausing to look up at Jan.

"They've changed them," Jan said softly.

"Changed?"

"I was watching one of the healers trying to treat a man with an arrow wound. She couldn't get it out and had to get two other healers to help her pull, the man screaming the whole time. When they finally got it out, he died..."

"Why?" Morden asked, mortified by the story he was just told.

"They're hook-shaped," Jan replied, shaping his finger into a crook. "They go in easily, but it would take better healer than the one we have here to properly treat it."

"Like where?" Morden asked quickly.

Jan paused for a moment, thinking intensely. Finally he looked up, meeting Morden's gaze. "Castletown has the best healers in Hyrule. Only one of them could know how to treat this kind of a wound properly."

"Are you sure that's really wise?" Morden asked quietly. "Castletown has been under heavy siege as well. We could be walking into a death trap."

"A death trap is about to be walking into us!" Jan snapped back, pointing with his finger in the general direction of the gate.

Morden stared at him for a long time, thoughts flying through his head. If they stayed here, there was no one to treat Nathe and he would surely die. But if they tried to get to Castletown, it could be even more dangerous than to stay here. However, Jan was right. The gate would not be able to keep the Gerudo's out forever.

A voice came from outside, frantic. "They're breaking through!"

"Hold it steady, men! Reinforcements have been sent for!"

"We can't hold much longer!"

Morden jumped as a hand touched his shoulder. He turned, looking at Jan with large blue eyes. "If we're going to save ourselves, we need to decide now," Jan whispered.

Morden swallowed hard, looking down at his friend, the arrow rising and falling as he sobbed quietly from the pain. Morden didn't know how to treat this, and the Gerudos were coming. But so were the reinforcements. If they could but hold the gate for a little longer, they'd be fine. The only question was could Nathe last that long?

Morden knew they only had one choice.

He needed only to make it.

Morden rose to his feet, grabbing the spare rag to wipe the blood from his hands. "Get two horses from the stable, yours and mine," he said quickly. "We'll go out the back way and head north for Castletown."

Jan nodded in agreement as he stood up. "Nathe'll ride with me," he told Morden. "My horse is the fastest one here."

"I'll follow you on Anopa," Morden said quickly, rushing Jan to the door.

"I'll get our horses and be right back," Jan said as he hurriedly as he rushed outside. Morden began to close the door behind him when Jan stuck his head back in. "And, Morden..." Jan looked momentarily at their friend, still lying on the floor, blood covering his chest yet again, though it had just been cleaned. Jan looked back at Morden, his eyes desperate. "Keep him safe."

"I know, Jan," Morden whispered quietly, ushering him out. Morden shut the door then rushed up the stairs to the bedroom, beginning to gather a few things. Léna followed him up, stopping in the doorway and watching as he began to pull on his boots and lace them up.

"We're taking Nathe to Castletown," Morden said, glancing up every other moment from his boot to speak to her. "Like he said, all of the healers are out holding up the gate, and he'll need special attention anyway." Morden finished lacing the boot and after pulling the strings tightly tied a quick knot at the top. He rose, walking toward her and putting his hands on her shoulders. "Now, Léna, look at me," he said, waiting for her silver eyes to meet his, "I want you to stay here with the baby. Reinforcements are coming soon, so don't worry at all about anything. I'll be back by-"

"I'm coming with you Morden," Léna said hushed and calmly.

Morden blinked a few times as he processed this. "Wh-what?" he said, his eyes narrowing. "W-wait, Léna-"

"You know as well as I do they can't hold that gate much longer," Léna said quietly, her silver eyes intense as the blade of a sword. "And more importantly, I'm not going to let you go out there alone." She brushed past his shoulder, walking toward the hook where she'd hung her cloak, slinging it on with that simple, practiced motion with one hand, and fastening it around her neck. "I'm riding with you."

"Léna," Morden whispered, frustrated with her impudence. "It's too dangerous. What if something were to happen?"

"Then it will happen to both of us," Léna said, her free hand grabbing her husband's tightly. Morden shook his head, letting out a heavy sigh, unsure of what to do. Léna stepped forward, bending down a little to try and see his face. "Morden," she said tinily. "I won't let you leave without me."

Morden finally met her eyes, his mouth open as though to speak. He longed to tell her not to come, to somehow frighten her and make her stay here where she would be safe. However he knew she was right. The guards could not possible hold the gate until the reinforcements came. Soldiers were already throwing themselves over the back wall already, or taking the back entrance the Gerudo did not know about. The longer he waited to decide, the less time Nathe had left. He looked into the eyes of his wife. He couldn't argue with her. He wanted her with him. He wanted her to be by his side, but he feared for her as well.

"Morden! I've got the horses!"

Jan.

Downstairs.

Morden looked over his shoulder toward the door, then back at his wife. He sighed in frustration. "Léna-"

She pressed her hand to his lips as she'd done so often to silence him. She smiled at him slightly, pushing past him and going downstairs. "I'll help him," she called over her shoulder. "We must hurry."

Morden scratched behind his pointed ear, wondering how he had just lost yet another argument with his wife. She seemed to be able to talk him out of (or into, for that matter) anything. He crossed the room, grabbing his cloak off the hook next to hers, wrapping it around his shoulders and clasping it at the front. He threw up the hood and started for the door when he remembered something.

He looked in the back corner of the room, seeing it; it was wrapped in fabric, twine laced around to make sure it kept the blade covered, with just enough spare at the top to tie onto a belt: Léna's Grandfather's sword.

He looked around the room, feeling suddenly guilty although there was no one there. They had no real weapons in their group, and did they honestly expect to get to Castletown without any interference? Morden knew they'd have to fight off a few small groups if they hoped to get to Castletown safely. They'd need at least one person with a sword.

Memories came back to Morden, stories that Léna had told him countless midnights when the two lay in bed and a wolven wind howled through the cracks of their doors and windows. She had told him of how her brother, father, grandfather had died while wielding this sword. She told him that it was a curse upon her family, and how she would never let him use the sword for fear of that curse. She kept it only to assure no one else close to her was destroyed by that blade.

Morden gazed a long while at that blade these thoughts fighting against each other in his mind. His wife had requested he not touch it. Shouldn't that be enough for him? But on the other hand, they couldn't rely on speed alone to get them safely to Castletown. Léna would never know if he took the sword just, in case. But what if she was right? What if there really was a curse on the blade? Did he dare to risk the lives of his wife and son, not to mention Nathe and Jan's. Nonsense! Was he really going to let this child's talk of a curse keep him from being able to protect his family and friends?

Morden tied the sword to his belt, knotting it several times to secure it's position.

Morden heard Jan's voice calling from the downstairs doorway. "Morden! We're ready!"

Morden looked down at the sword tied to his belt, turning it until it was entirely hidden by his cloak. "Coming!" he called as he walked out of the bedroom. Now he had a way of protecting their group. Now they had a better chance of arriving at Castletown safely...

Morden felt a sick stirring in his stomach. If he was so safe, why did the hairs on the back of his neck stand so stiffly? Why did his skin prickle in anticipation each time the sword's hilt clanked against his belt?

He pushed these thoughts away, going down the stairs. "It's just a story," he whispered to himself. Then he whisked into the storm.

* * *

Jan led the way toward the back entrance, Morden riding right beside him, his arms reaching around Léna for the reins. Nathe sat limply in front of Jan, leaning back again his friend for support. Jan squinted over Nathe's shoulder as they neared the gate, finding several of the guardsmen holding the wooden barrier tightly, sliding in the mud as they tried to put all their weight against the door.

"What do you think is going on there?" Jan shouted over the rain to Morden. "It looks like they're holding it shut!"

Morden glanced at his friend. "I thought you said the Gerudos didn't know about this back way!" he screamed, thunder nearly drowning his words.

"No one but a few select officers are supposed to!" Jan shouted back. "But it looks like-"

Shouts scattered from the guards as the door violently lurched forward then back, like a large animal heaving a sigh. They stumbled to regain their footing and continued to press against the door.

Morden looked at Jan, trying to hide his fear. "I think someone else knows about this way!" he said loudly. Jan suddenly was very pale.

"That's impossible," Jan said, almost silenced by the rainfall. "I was told that they-"

The door lurched again, Anopa whinnying fearfully, backing up a few steps. Léna reached forward and brushed her neck, shushing the horse tenderly, her eyes all the while focused on the gate. The door jerked again, much further forward this time, some of the guards falling back, this time rising and running from the gate.

"THE GERUDOS ARE HERE!" one of the guards shrilly screamed, the door banging forward and the wood snapping as though it would at any moment give way. The guard hadn't even made it twenty meters, tripping and flailing through the mud. He screamed again to the night rain and anyone else who may have been near. "IT'S GANNONDORF!" screamed the guard, his voice high-pitched from fear and anxiety. "IT'S GANNOND-"

The guard halted mid-step, falling to one knee and to the ground as the sound of splintering wood and dying guardsmen filled the air. His eyes went empty and he fell forward, an arrow sticking up from his back. The gate had been broken, and the doors lay, one completely toppled and the other hardly hanging on it's top hinge. Gerudo horsewomen flooded the Lon Lon pasture watering the grass with Hylian blood as they too their swords to their enemies. Morden watched as a huge dark horse in full Gerudo battle-armor stepped through the gate, a dark rider on it's back, watching as the some ten horsewomen took off after the running guards and some rode toward the main gate. Lightning flashed for a moment, lighting the face of a grin on the face of a fire-haired man. When it became dark again, the coal-colored eyes continued to glow in the darkness.

"By the power of almighty Din," Jan whispered softly, shaking his head. "It can't be..."

Lightning flashed again, the same sneering face illuminated as the horse reared up on it's hind legs, the rider lifting his sword above his head and letting out a high-pitched war cry. The cry echoed and grew louder as thousands of Gerudo women joined in the call. Morden's blood stopped moving in his veins. He felt death wrapping around his neck and gnawing the muscle from his body. This was the war cry Nathe had related to him. This was the man who had taken Jan's sight from his eye. This was the man who led the army of women. This was the man whom the dead old soldier had spoken of...

This was Gannondorf...

Morden looked at Jan, his pulse racing. He wasn't going to stay here and let the Gerudo flood take him. "Come on!" he screamed to his friend. "Hyah!"

Anopa rushed forward into the storm, her hooves pounding into the mud as she ran at the door. Morden could hear Jan thundering behind him, his horse moving like the wind, nearly at his side. Morden felt the wind as he and his companion breezed past the dark rider, leaping over the fallen doors and breaking out of the ranch. Jan had gained the lead. His horse was the wind. It was one with the storm, and Anopa could only race on it's heels.

Morden cast a quick glance over his shoulder. The dark rider had turned his horse, giving a loud shout slapping his hand against it's hindside and bolting after the two escapees from the ranch. Morden looked back in front of him. Jan was nearly five meters ahead of him now, Castletown a good distance away. Anopa was still keeping up a speedy pace. No two horses in all of Hyrule were faster. The dark rider would never be able to catch them.

As though to assure himself of this, he looked again over his shoulder, trying to find the dark rider. His heart caught in his throat. Not only was the rider following them...

He was gaining...

Morden swore loudly into the night, Léna flinching from his outburst. They would never make it to Castletown alive with this dark rider following them. Nathe had little time left. Morden could still see the man growing limper and limper. If they didn't get there soon, he would die. Morden looked again at the rider, quickly nearing their group. Morden looked again at the path in front of them. The rider would soon be on their tail and could easily slaughter them both. Morden knew what he needed to do. He was one of the best riders in the Hylian Guard, and he was certain he could do it. He saw Jan turn and look over his shoulder at Morden, paling as he saw the dark rider behind them.

"We have to split up!" Morden shouted to his companion.

"What?!" Jan screamed, anger in his eyes. "Are you out of your mind?!"

"He'll kill us all if we stay together!" Morden screamed. "I'll lead him away!"

"Morden-!" Jan began to argue, but Morden cut him off.

"I'm heading toward the Kokiri Forest! I can loose him there!" he screamed. "Get to Castletown! GO!!"

Morden roughly pulled Anopa's reins, turning her in the direction of the Kokiri forest, southeast.

"MORDEN!!"

Jan's voice slowly died as the rain consumed his ears. He looked over his shoulder again. Good. The dark rider was following him. Morden's head spun as adrenaline coursed through his veins. Anopa ran against the storm, rain beating against their faces as they bolted across Hyrule Field. Morden pulled up alongside the Zora River, swelled from the massive rainstorms that seemed to be hanging over all of Hyrule as though the Goddesses were crying as they watched the races of Hyrule steep themselves in their own blood, becoming drunk on the wine of war, the lust for battle.

Morden did not need to turn to see if the dark rider was behind him. He could hear the black horse's breathing loud and clear, as though he were right behind him. The Zora river turned toward Zora's domain, leaving a canyon wall for Morden to follow. Morden gave a loud shout, urging, pleading Anopa to go faster. It was only a little bit further to the forest. He could see the enclave of trees in the distance. He wouldn't bother to find the path to the Kokiri Village. He would have to plunge straight into the mass of trees. If he could lose the dark rider there, then he could find the bridge later.

Everything seemed to be slowed to the speed that ice overtakes a lake in the winter. Horse hooves beat thunder in Morden's ears. He could hear each raindrop as it fell upon his shoulders and wet his hair. He could hear each breath Léna took in and felt her chest rising and falling against his. He could smell the mud as Anopa flung it up behind her, covering his legs and boots with it, rain washing it away. He watched the trees grow larger as the thunder in his ears rang louder. He heard the black horse's breath. He could feel it against his elbow. The raindrops became arrows, raining hard as though to pierce his skin. He ignored it, watching the trees as he neared slowly, as though he'd never get there. He heard his son crying over the rain, as frightened as he was as the black horse's breath grew warmer against his back. He heard the dark rider's cape flapping behind him, soaked entirely with rain. He shut his eyes tightly as he saw the forest only a stone's throw away.

He wouldn't make it.

He shouted again at Anopa, as though that would somehow make her go faster. She was going as fast as she could. He could feel her flesh trembling beneath his legs. She was getting tired. She couldn't go on at this speed much further. Morden felt a strong breeze as trees began to fly past them on his left. They were there.

Just a little further, Morden thought, and tugged on Anopa's reins. The horse slid in the mud, almost falling over as she turned, zooming into the expanse of trees. Morden tried to keep his path confusing, turning in odd places, through tight corners, and under half-fallen trees. No one could follow this path, he thought to himself. He reached an open area, Anopa stopping as he pulled on her reins. He turned to look over his shoulder, Léna looking in the same direction as he. Holding his breath, he stared into the black of the forest shadows. After a long moment, he let out a long sigh, looking down at Léna who smiled up at him, exhausted from the run for their lives.

He sighed, breathing hard. "I think we-"

A furious scream. Morden felt pain splitting up his arm, cutting into him, through his tunic as he fell through the air, Léna chest still beside his own. He hit the mud, cold rushing up his body and air out of him as Léna landed on top of him, Anopa rearing up as she whinnied in terror. Morden grabbed his wife's shoulders as he rolled them out from beneath the horse's feet and into safety, the horse bolting off into the forest. Léna rose to her feet, trying to help Morden up with her spare arm, stumbling in the mud and looking fearfully upward at the shadow before them.

Morden stood, holding his arm as it bled heavily. He'd been cut. A deep gash lay across his deltoid, and he stumbled as the pain constricted his every move. He stared up as the black horse whickered, fog hanging in the icy stormcold air. The dark rider stared down at them, holding his sword to his side. The eyes glowed, staring down at him and Léna with absolute malice, with a look that told Morden the only reason he'd followed them was to spill their blood. The rider lifted his sword, ready to make another strike.

"RUN!" Morden screamed, pushing Léna aside. He rolled in the opposite direction, narrowly avoiding the Gerudo's sharp blade.

Léna stumbled across the forest floor, grabbing a tree for balance. She turned looking in the direction her husband had gone. She watched as he reached into his cloak, scurrying backwards across the mud as the rider began to dismount, starting toward him. Finding what he was searching for, Morden managed to regain his footing, standing up and taking a stance in front of the dark rider, a sword raised in front of him...

Her grandfather's sword...

"MORDEN!" she screamed hysterically, the baby in her arms suddenly crying louder.

Metal rang through the air as the two swords clashed, Morden trying to circle away from the rider. "GET OUT OF HERE!" he roared, looking over at her again.

The rider, Gannondorf's, fist shot out, clipping Morden smartly in the jaw.

"NO!" Léna shrieked watching him fall to the ground, coughing from the weight of the blow.

"LÉNA!" he shouted from the ground. "GO! GO NOW!"

Lena watched in absolute fear. She knew she had to do as he said. She knew if she stayed then she too would be killed by this mad man. The lightning sent light reflecting off of her grandfather's blade as Morden lifted it to stop the Gerudo man from slashing his chest.

She didn't want to leave him! She couldn't! He would die if she did!

But then she remember the baby in her arms.

Holding Link tightly to her chest, she ran into the forest. She had to find that bridge! She had to find the Korkiri Village...

* * *

Morden stumbled to his feet, holding the sword in front of him shakily, staring up at the huge Gerudo man, his teeth bared as though he were a wolfos about to bite Morden. He let out a ferocious grunt, swinging the hefty blade with all his strength, Morden wheeling his sword around to defend himself. Morden felt the vibrations from the clashing of their swords resonate throughout his body. This man was stronger than he was. Morden swung again to deflect a blow, stepping backwards in shock as the rider swung at him over and over again, gaining ground, Morden slowing in his deflection, unable to keep this up for much longer.

His arms stung. His muscles ached. The sword was heavy in his hands. He was worn. He could not win against this man. He was too strong... Much too strong.

Morden moved to divert the Gerudo's blow, only to see it too late...

It was a feint.

He took in a sharp gasp of breath as the rusty taste of blood began to flow into his mouth. He dropped his sword, looking down at his torso, seeing the blade of Gannondorf's sword stuck through his middle.

As though in a dream, he reached out, his hands wrapping over the rider's, as if he could somehow pull himself free. Stars began to dot his vision. The front of his face felt like pins were cutting into him as the blood stopped moving through his muscles. His fingers grew cold and his grip began slipping. His legs buckled beneath him and he began to fall backwards. But, no...

Gannondorf grabbed the collar of Morden's tunic with one hand, forcing the blade further into him. Morden screamed. The pain only now register itself over the shock. The rider held the sword, the hilt against Morden's stomach, the blade entirely through him.

"Foolish Hylian," Gannondorf growled with a grin, thrusting the blade again into the man, relishing as he let out another scream.

"Léna, forgive me," Morden sobbed as he hung there, suspended by Gannondorf's grasp. The Gerudo slowly lowered him to his knees, holding the sword to him as he did so. Morden's tears were masked by the rain running down his face through the trees. It had grown so cold.

Memories flashed by his eyes as his gaze turned upward to the rain. Memories of his own parents, a market in Kakariko, the buttercup sun warm on his skin after swimming with his friends in Lake Hylia, the first time he met Léna, training for the Royal Guard with Nathe and Jan, his wedding day...

His new born son.

He remembered looking down on the tiny ball of flesh for the first time, staring down into eyes as blue as his own, high cheekbone's like his mother's, hair like white gold as was his own. Such a beautiful baby boy. His son.

He'd always wanted a son. He dreamed of raising him the way his father had him, swimming long days with him in Lake Hylia under the buttercup sun, taking him to the market to buy food and materials, teaching him to carve, to love to wood just as he loved it, to never let his son hold a sword in his hand, to never let him see any other living thing be hurt or killed ever in his lifetime.

Morden felt the sword leave his belly as he fell back against the ground, still staring skyward.

It was not meant to be...

Somehow, even that first time when he held his son in his arms, when he longer to protect him from all that life would bring, he knew it was impossible. He knew his son was different. There was something waiting for this child. A destiny so large it could swallow him whole. A destiny he would face alone, perhaps a quest that would span his entire lifetime. He could never protect this boy from the world. The boy would have to protect himself from the world...

"It's not meant to be," Morden murmured to himself.

Then he shut his eyes and slept...

Never to wake again.

* * *

Léna ran through the trees, holding her crying baby in her arms, praying to the Goddesses to protect her. She'd heard Morden's scream. She knew her time was over. She knew that the end was near.

If she could just make it to the forest. If she could only get to the Korkiri village.

Her legs felt like fire and lightning piercing her body every time her step pounded through the mud and stone, stumbling through the forest. It seemed like she was running forever. Her breathing was heavy, and she felt as though she were drowning herself in the damp, stormy air. She was almost there. After running so long, she had to be. She pulled Link closer to her body, running faster, her foot splashing a fountain of water as she raced through a puddle. Just a few more steps, she kept telling herself. Just a little farther.

Léna wasn't sure if it was thunder or her heartbeat, but loud, rhythmic clashing filled her ears. She ignored it, her only thought to get to the village.

Just one more step, she said. Now another. Just a little further, and my baby will be safe.

The angry whinny of a horse filled her ears. She glanced over her shoulder. The dark rider was closing in on her. His hand hung out at his side, a dagger held in his fist. She turned away from the rider, focusing on the path in front of her. Through the cluster of trees she saw it: the bridge into the Korkiri Village. She held Link tighter, pushing herself to the end of her strength, her legs flying forward as she soared through the trees.

Just one more step.

Now another.

Just a little further, and my baby will be safe.

She saw the hollowed tree trunk that would lead to the village below, peering at her in-between trees as she hurried along through the brush. She was almost there. She was breathing hard, shutting her eyes tightly as though that would somehow make her run faster.

A hard sharp pain entered her back, rising in a sharp line across her shoulder blade and ending. She saw the dark rider go past her, dagger now bloodied, she noted. She continued to run, a little slower now, the pain lancing up and down her back where he had stabbed her the first time. She watched as the rider continued forward as though he was leaving her for good. She reached the bridge just as the rider began to turn around.

Just one more step.

Now another.

Just a little further, and my baby will be safe.

She tried to turn and race across the wooden bridge get to the village and hide from the rider, but her foot hit a slick puddle of mud. Her feet went flying out from under her as she fell forward, managing to twist her body so the baby did not suffer any harm. She propped herself up on one elbow, a sharp, smarting sting racing through her shoulder as the torn muscle tissue tensed. She brought herself to one knee, looking upward through the web of red hair covering her face. She saw the rider. She watched him raise the dagger over one shoulder, holding it loosely as he glared at her.

Just one more step.

Now another.

Just a little further, and my baby will be safe.

She watched it fly from his grip, she stumbling to her feet and cradling her baby close. She felt the dagger enter her just above her belly button, right below where her ribs ended. One hand cradled her child and the other cradled the dagger. She had lost.

Léna stumbled, grabbing hold of the rope-rail of the bridge to support her. She saw as the Gerudo man sneered at her, watching her fall to her knees, her hand still holding the bridge, the other cradling her son. She could feel as her skin changed from perfect-peach to snow, the blood in her veins slowing. She stared at the man in shock, her mouth open, as though she would curse at him, scream that he had killed her husband, that she would do the same to him. But she knew she could not. Morden was dead. She was dead. And soon, Link would also be dead.

No...

She couldn't let that happen.

The dark rider chuckled to himself, then turned his horse away, giving a shout and sending it off into the forest, carrying him, no doubt back to the Lon Lon Ranch. Léna was alone. She could surrender to the ground, let the rain and mud wash over her and kill both she and her son...

Or...

Léna forced herself to one foot, pulling herself up as she clung to the woven rope of the bridge. She stood on her feet, leaning against the bridge and using her free hand to wrap her fingers around the dagger in her belly. She gave a sharp tug, gasping as the blade slid back out, staring at her blood covered hand and dagger. Her fingers slowly lost their grip, letting the knife fall to the mud, buried in the dirt and water below. Her bloody hand reached out for the rope. She pulled herself along the bridge, all the while, reminding herself of why she was doing this, why she had not yet given up.

One more step.

Now another.

Just a little further, and my baby will be safe.

She said this to herself all along the entire path to the village, lying to herself, saying that each step would be the last one she needed to take, only to repeat the promise again to force herself to take another step. Just until I reach that rock, then I'll die. Just until I reach that tree, then I'll die. Only whenever she reached them, she told herself just to go a little further.

Soon, she was crawling on her hands and knees through the damp earth. The rain had lightened and a fog hung heavy in the morning air. Treehouses stood like silent sentinels in the mist, still as bowlegged cranes against the dark sky of dawn. She had made it. She had reached to Kokiri Village. Now she could die.

No, not yet.

The babe still cried loudly in her arms. He was hungry. She could not feed him. She did not have the strength. She could not even keep him warm anymore. All her warmth was gone from her, stolen by the dark rider, Gannondorf. She could not die yet and leave this child out to catch cold in the wee hours of the morn. She had to find someone to care for him. Someone that would raise the child as their own.

Someone that would one day tell him their story. The story of how his father fought for him, and his mother died to save him. The story of the dark rider who killed mercilessly and must one day be brought to justice. Someone had to care for her son.

* * *

Léna blacked out for a period. The blood loss had become too much for her. She awoke in a large meadow on a field of clover, staring up at the sky, grey clouds of morning still hanging heavy, lightened by the sprinkled fairy dust and light-catching dew. Was she dead? No. The pain was still fresh in her stomach. She turned her head, seeing the bundle of cloth, her baby boy, lying next to her, cooing softly. She squinted in disbelief, only to find it was true; fairies surrounded her son, tending to him, their shining skin sending glows of white, blue, gold, and violet, their wings of stained glass windows fluttering gently, keeping them afloat, only just enough. One of the fairies, a small white one, saw that she was awake and fluttered over to her.

Léna watched as the tiny spark grew dim, seeing what seemed to be a miniature girl, a young woman, with skin the color of snow roses, giving off her soft white glow. Her eyes were a bright gold, and her hair, flowing all the way down to her ankles, was as white as clouds on a clear day, barely tinted gold, a much paler shade of Morden's hair, small braids flowing throughout the design. A flower petal was wrapped around her middle, covering the fragile body just enough, tied with the stem of a clover at the waist. She fluttered to Léna's hand which rested by her head, landing on her little finger, then stepping, light as butterfly kisses, until she sat on Léna's thumb. She looked curiously at Léna and Léna looked curiously back. She could feel her hair rustling as the fairy bat her wings. She heard the tingling of magic in the air of this place. She felt her breathing come harshly, and felt body, still cold.

"Am I not dead then?" she whispered.

"No," the tiny voice replied from between two lips of rose quartz. "You have been brought to the Great Deku Tree's meadow."

"Who?" Léna groaned softly.

"The-"

"Young Navi," came a voice, rolling in a deep bass, more felt than heard. "Is she awake?"

"Yes, Great Deku Tree," the tiny fairy replied, fluttering off of Léna's thumb, looking upward. Léna was too weak to shift her gaze. She could only hear the voice of the being.

"Oh, thou poor Hylian woman... Thy wounds are mortal, and I have no power to heal thee..."

Léna shut her eyes tightly. "So I am going to die," she whispered.

"I am sorry, young woman," the voice came again. "There is nothing I can do for you."

Léna groaned, trying to move to see this voice. "W-wait," she groaned, still in the same place as before. "My son..."

"Hmm?"

Léna relaxed her muscles. "Please, take my son... I can no longer care for him."

No reply came for a while. Léna looked at the fairy, still floating by her, looking up at the source of the voice desperately.

"This is a heavy request thou asks of me," the voice replied. "The child you have brought here is no ordinary child. I do not know how I could help him when the time comes... I am sorry, young woman-"

"Wait, Great Deku Tree," the tiny fairy said, stepping forward. "What if I were to help you?"

"Thou, Navi? How wouldst thou help me with this child?"

"I would take care of him when the time comes," the fairy, Navi said, clasping her tiny hands together. "Please, Great Deku Tree. Let me help you in this task."

"Oh, young Navi, dost thou realize what thou hast volunteered thyself for?" the voice asked. "It will take many years for me to tell thee all that this child's destiny would hold for him... and for thou, should thou accept this responsibility."

"I understand, Great Deku Tree," Navi said quickly. "I am willing to sacrifice myself to help this child."

"Even such as a Hylian?"

The Fairy batted her long, golden eyelashes, holding the gaze of the source of the voice. "Yes," she finally replied, holding her chin up proudly.

"Then so be it," the voice sighed. "Woman, we shall take up thy son and protect him with all the power within ourselves. Dost thou approve?"

Léna sighed deeply, her body relaxing as the cold in her toes and fingers began to climb up her limbs. "I do."

"Then it is done," the voice said softly. "I will raise this child as mine own until his destiny arrives. Then thou shalt protect him, Navi."

"Yes, Great Deku Tree," the fairy whispered, landing again on Léna's thumb.

The fairies still surrounding Link each took a corner of the blanket he was wrapped in, carrying him in the direction of the voice. Léna let out a breath, struggling to take another as her gaze on the fairy grew dim. The fairy rose, about to follow the others toward the babe, when Léna spoke.

"Wait a moment," she whispered. The fairy stopped, leaning back on her finger. "What is your name?"

The fairy smiled slightly. "They call me Navi," she whispered quietly.

"Thank you, Navi..." Léna said softly. "Love him dearly for me..."

"I shall, young woman..." Navi whispered, then fluttered away to join the others.

Léna looked upward toward the sky, the rain still falling lightly. She let out a sigh, taking what she already knew was her last breath. Now her son was safe. She had done all she needed to do. She thought she heard Morden, calling her name, beckoning her upwards, into the sky, into a world that knew no pain.

"What shall we call him?" the tiny voice of Navi said softly.

"Link," Léna whispered. "He is called Link..."

Léna had once heard that when rain fell, the Goddesses and peoples in the heavens were crying. Something bad had happened, or something joyous had happened. The voice had spoken of destiny. Perhaps this was all meant to be.

Perhaps the heavens wept for the deaths of that day...

Perhaps the heavens wept for the union of the fairy Navi and her son Link...

But whatever Léna had questioned before, she now knew...

Rain was the tears of the Goddesses for her son...

Tear falling rains...

(A/N: Wow! That came out so much better than I hoped. A good ending to a sad story. Please R&R and tell me what you think. The more reviews, the more likely I am to write more Zelda fics. So go review.... NOW!!!)