Dungeon Dangers

He didn't even like me.

"That's not true," Zelda insisted before she sent us away, "He's just… withdrawn."

I rolled my eyes. "Have you ever heard him call me Link? Admit it, it's always been Hero, and always will be."

Zelda looked worried. She probably knew I was mostly sad about that, but just a little glad. The less people liked me or even knew me, the less I would have to keep secrets. And I admired him, with his overly cheery tone and the eye(s) that always smiled. "He always requests you, when it's a group venture."

"Chya," I snorted, "Because I'm the Hero of Time."

"Quite right."

I'd spun round, and there he was, no longer in the skin-tight suit, but a blue jerkin and brown baggy pants, soft boots, a white long-sleeved shirt and the ever present mask or cowl or something that covered the lower part of his face and the fringe that covered his right eye. Sheik chuckled at my annoyed stare. "Well, do you really expect the castle dullards to catch up with me? And they never wear hats as laughable as yours."

Zelda gave an aggravated sigh and threw up her hands and cried out, "Just get to the damn mission already!"

…

There was a nudge against my back. "Hero… Hero!"

"Mmmnng…" Dizzy…

"Wake up,"

Wake up? Why did I need to wake up? Then I remembered (the gravel against my chin was a big hint) and I groaned. I opened my eyes and it's still dark, like a cell.

When I said back, I meant my whole back, all the way from the middle of my shoulder-blades down to my calves. "This is ridiculous,"

He gave a tired sigh. "Hero…"

"Why the heck didn't we wake up when tho-hurrghs…"

I gagged and retched but managed to keep the bread, apple and milk I had for breakfast in. I felt him nod his head against mine. I was glad my hat's still there. "Ever heard of quifh, Hero?"

I coughed, "Nope."

"Drug, sleep, nausea, slight after-taste of tea. Feeling it?"

I ran my tongue against my teeth. I hate tea. "Yep."

"I'm guessing they'd stuffed a good glob of it into our faces," he sighed, "I have to admit that this is quite degrading…"

"Please, please can you get us free?"

He moved and I could feel it in my whole back and a shiver crawled down my spine, cold and uncomfortable. "Oh," he said, "I forgot you had issues."

"Just shut up and do it!"

He was right. I had issues (still do). All Heroes do. Some don't talk. Some drink. Some go on a mass-murdering spree. Me, I have personal space issues. I have the biggest personal space bubble ever. I can't have people being close to me. I can't. Partly because I've worked solo too long. Partly to keep my identity safe.

So being tied back-to-back with rope wound round from shoulders to knees like some sick caricature of a two headed caterpillar was… not good.

I begged: "Sheik, please…"

"I'm on it, don't fuss-"

"Stop wriggling!"

"Do you want to be free or not!?"

I shut up. Thought happy thoughts like knitting in the middle of the Hyrule Fields, a nice campfire cooking cucco at night by the Desert Colossus, sleeping under the stars on top of Death Mountain, anything, anything, than this nightmare of close-contact.

I was hating Zelda right then.

"There's a suspicious fortress," she said, "On the other side of Death Mountain. I know this is a pain, but can you check it out for me?"

Well, those weren't her exact words, but still. I asked why Sheik didn't go, because Zelda would've asked him first, but then I already guessed. He had a policy; he saved people only if they were polite to him, or only if he was working with me.

And this was a group venture, supposedly. A two 'man' venture.

I would be helping Agitha choose a dress to her date with Colin if I'd had my way…

"Alright," Sheik grunted, "Spread your legs."

"Excuse me!?"

"I have a knife under my shoe, reserved for emergencies," he explained in a really exasperated and impatient tone, "Obviously I can't reach it, though I've lodged it enough that the point is sticking out somewhat. And contrary to popular belief, the knee can bend only backwards. So I'm going to have to cut through your side. See where I'm headed?"

I still didn't like it.

After a few kicks and grunts the knife catches and the rope tears. I nearly sobbed with relief; it unravelled up to our hips, and counting to synchronise our moves, we sat up.

Then we noticed two other complications. First, we had rope collars. Second, they were connected to our wrists, tied at our backs.

I hyperventilated. I'm never going into a fortress ever again. Give me caves, abandoned temples, tombs, anything but man-handled fortresses.

"It's alright, Hero," he calmly stated, "I've got a vague plan forming-"

"Not vague. Anything but vague. And quick, please, quick-"

"Calm!" Sheik snapped, "Geez, you make me seem so uptight and serious. Look, can you handle my weight?"

"Yes." Deep breath, deep breath, "Yes I can."

"Alright. Judging by the knot on our wrists and the fact that some of it's cold, it's a mixture of chains and rope."

"Okay."

"My noose is connected to your handcuffs, and vice versa. I'll cut through my noose with the knife, roll over your back, gnaw through your noose, and then free us both. Deal?"

I walk through the plan in my head, picturing each step. I freeze. "No! I'm sorry, but no! I can't! I can't handle hugs. And you'll be, damn it, just no!"

"Don't you think personal boundaries are officially off the priority list by now?"

But he'll know. He'll find out. "I can't. I can't."

There's a pause. He sighed and knocked the back of his head against mine. "… Are you hiding something from me, Hero?"

Yes. "No."

"Let's put it this way then," he reasoned, "After they knocked us out with that gas, and made sure we stayed down with a hunk of quifh, they took our weapons, our gauntlets, our belts, bandoleer, and on my part, my wrappings full of explosives. They even took my head wraps, my cowl and my favourite pocket-sized jigsaw puzzle. And yet, they don't take your hat. Funny, that, hm?"

I felt my face go white. Oh by the mother of the Three, he'd guessed. "Uh…"

"I mean, why do you even wear that all the time? I won't pretend I know about Kokiri traditions, but this doesn't make sense. You're always very... practical. Unless it has some properties of protection …?"

I was actually trembling. Sheik's made remarks about my hat before; it's one of his pass-times to mock the thing, really, but it's never been brutally to the point as this.

"Hero," he finally threatened, "We can do this the easy way, or the hard way. The only difference between the two options is your concession, or lack thereof. What do you-?"

"I'm sorry, Sheik, I… I really can't, I…" I took a deep breath, and bit the metaphorical arrow-head. "I'm a girl."

There's a pause. He sighed and laughed at once. "You know what you sound like?"

"Insane."

"Oh yes."

"It's true." I'm hyperventilating again. I can't sit still. "When the Deku Tree realised I was, was, t-the Destined Child, he thought people wouldn't accept a girl as a saviour, so he made this hat, and… Here I am."

I needed to get out. I couldn't handle this anymore. The space. The dark. Him. I couldn't.

"Hero," Sheik sighed, and I can hear his smile, "I knew."

I froze over. I stopped breathing. He snickered, kindly.

"Sorry to disappoint, but I've known for just over a year, I think."

"You can't have. That's… that's…"

"Impossible? Hardly," he scoffed lightly and sighed, "I know everybody in the castle, Hero, either by title or name or face. Yet there was one girl that took care of the gardens sometimes, that the maids and laundry women spoke fondly of, that kept disappearing off the face of the earth, and I knew nothing about her. I did some spying, and I noticed that every time she disappeared, the ever enigmatic Hero popped up somewhere in Hyrule, particularly in the Castle. How odd, I thought, and always wearing that silly hat, and I saw once that the Garden girl talked with the Princess… did some speculating, did some research, and I did confront Zelda…"

"She…" I couldn't believe it. I'd trusted her. "She told you."

"Oh not immediately, in fact I had to guess right on the mark before she conceded that I may be onto something, but believe me, that took me months."

That makes me vaguely feel better. Vaguely.

"So, now that's over with… can we please get on with my plan?"

The vague better-ness evaporated. "No!"

"Oh come on!"

"Don't you get it!? I haven't been touched! The warmth I know is of dying bodies of goddesses know what and monster blood, the, the only things that've hugged me on the loosest use of the term is Morpha the Redeads those giant Hands I haven't, I haven't gotten used to people yet this… this is completely, and utterly, out of, I…"

Oh gods, I couldn't breathe, and I was on the verge of crying. This was humiliating. I didn't seem to be able to stop either. Sheik made nice shushing noises so I tried to calm down and steady my breathing and it worked, sort of. My nose was threatening to run.

"Hero…" he sighed and knocked his head against mine again. "I am not going to hurt you. I only intend to free you. You have my assurances that I will make it as quick as possible. You trust me, don't you?"

I whimpered. "You don't even like me."

"Not exactly," he replied smoothly, "I just don't associate with people that disguise themselves. It comes with being in disguise all the time myself."

I grunted.

"Very manly." He commented. "Look, we can work as a team, get out of here, beat the bastard that trapped us and go safely home. In order to do that, we need to trust each other, and the one thing that's impeding me to do that is your Hat. I don't know what's stopping you from trusting me-"

"I've never gotten a good look at you. You always have your face hidden."

"Firstly, hypocrite, and secondly, not anymore." He pointed out, "Tell you what; you follow my plan, and we get to see each other's faces. No more disguises ever. That sound good?"

Funnily enough, it did. I nodded, and sighed and said, "I'm taking my hat off now."

"Alright."

"I'm doing it."

"Yes."

"This is it."

"Of course."

I grabbed the hat's tail with my teeth. "Okay."

"Mm-hmm."

"I'm ready."

"Better late than never."

I gave up procrastinating and I slipped it off. The magic skin peeled off with it like a sandy cloak, lifting and disintegrating and vanishing. The angular jaw diminished and smoothed, my forehead curved and shaped itself like a heart (it looked impossibly manly-girlish) the hard cheekbones crusted away for soft ones, my lips bloomed, my chest stayed just as flat (well, it might as well have) and my hair gained a precious inch. The ropes seemed looser.

"Huh," Sheik remarked in surprise, "I can feel the difference."

"Thanks," I muttered bitterly, and it's easier to speak. The drawback of the Hat is that it always makes me feel like I have a cold. My voice sounded like my own.

"Alright," Sheik rejoined optimistically, "Let's do this."

First we struggled to get the rest of the rope off of us. On the count of three we stood, and the ropes fell like a bunch of dead heavy snakes and I gave them a good kick for giving me such a hard time. Now we're tied together by our wrists and necks, and because of that I had to keep my back straight. We shuffled towards a wall.

"Ready?" Sheik asked, as he braced one foot against the wall, the other bent low to boost himself up. I crouched lower, and doubled over and I felt his spine digging into mine.

"Just go."

He grunted and kicked off the floor and wall, and he rolled backwards up my back and over my head. His wrists twisted and strained on the rope cuffs and it burned my wrists, and I nearly staggered under the concentrated weight on my shoulders and our heads banged together and his arms struggled past my shoulders, but his feet touched the floor and he faced me, his nose so close it brushed mine and his arms were around me and when he straightened up his collarbone banged against my chin. "Ow."

"That was awkward." He agreed.

I noticed warm liquid on my nose. "Oh Din you're bleeding."

"I cut my noose with the foot-knife but it took some trial and error. It's nothing, really."

I could feel panic rising. I was surrounded. I was trapped. Shit. Shit. "Okay what next."

"I just want you to think happy thoughts while I do this." his neck bent and I remembered what's going to happen and I froze. He had to cut my noose. With his teeth.

I tried to think of being alone in a nice, wide, expanse of land, but I couldn't. His arms were around me for Furore's sake, and I felt his body-heat, though I could tell he's making a conscious effort of staying the freaking-hell away. I tipped my head back, cringing, as he brushed my neck with his lips, searching for the rope to gnaw through.

His breath was warm, ghosty. His lips were soft, and gentle, and I trembled as they caressed my skin. He finally found the rope round my neck and I felt his teeth graze my skin and I concentrated on the sound of grinding fibre rather than his breath near my cheek. He kindly backed away as much as he could from my skin and I said my thanks.

He said something back without opening his mouth and I laughed. I flexed the muscle of my arms; they're getting stiff after being tied behind my back so long. I was probably losing circulation in my fingers too…

Snap.

"Huh," I remarked, "That was fast."

"Healthy teeth does that."

"Alright, then," I twitched my wrists. "Can you do it?"

"Shouldn't be too hard," he muttered, and I could feel his fingers picking at the bonds, feeling over the knots and the chains clinking and squeaking. His arm muscles flexed around me, and if I leaned my head forward I could rest it against his shoulder. I tried to pretend that he was a statue but that freaked me out even more so I worked on listening to his heartbeat, to remind myself he's like me, he won't hurt me, he won't.

He smelt like… something nice. Something earthy, like a stove. He's warm.

After a few seconds he curses.

I paled. "Oh no."

"It's okay, just stay calm…"

"What? What's wrong?"

"Nothing. Just… it's giving me trouble. The rope's wound round metal manacles, so I have to get rid of that, but right now I'm more concerned of the possibility…"

"A keyhole." I cannot believe this. "You'll have to pick at a real lock."

"…Basically."

"You need to see it."

He paused, sighed, and admitted, "It'll be faster if I could see it, yes, but-"

I pressed myself flush against him, stifling a whimper and I muttered quickly into his shoulder, "Do it do it do it quick do it untie the knot there's a pin in my hair use that to pick the lock just do it quickly do it please."

"Right," he whispered, his head bent right over my shoulder, his fingers like lightening against my wrists. His body against mine in the dark reminded me of when I impaled that Wall-master and it died on top of me and I couldn't get it off; the heat reminded me of my first blood-shed, the giant spider inside the Deku tree, but I fight the images back, fight it, fight it, thinking of Sheik and only Sheik, even if the constricting ropes reminded me of Dekubaba gnawing at my wrists, his mouth digging behind my ear for the pin like a tentacle of Biri…

"Sheik…"

"Hm?"

"I don't much like the dark, either."

"I don't blame you." he mumbled around the pin, and I think he dropped it into his hand, because he muttered, "You beauty," and there's a little bit of clicking, after that. "Not the greatest day for you, is it?"

I laughed nervously. "No."

Clickity-click. "Your voice sounds nice."

I blinked. "Pardon?"

"It sounds nice," he reiterated, and he adds, "Do you sing?"

"Um… sometimes…"

"I'd like to hear it once we're out of here."

"I could be tone-deaf."

"Well, even if I'm wrong it'll be at your expense, so I don't mind too much."

"Hm," I rolled my eyes. The ropes fell to the ground. Only the manacle left, now.

C-click. "Th-… oh."

I froze. "What? What?"

"Okay, nothing's wrong, don't panic. One last twist and this is done."

"But…?"

"It's jinxed."

My thoughts: I swear. I will kill for this. "How?"

"No idea. I think we should find the door before we do anything else though. Can you see it? Because I know for a fact that behind you is a lot of wall."

I looked. "It's there. To your left. A few paces."

"Right, when I say now, I unlock this, we run for it, you blow the door with Din's Fire."

"Right."

"Good… two, one, NOW!"

We gapped the space between us and the door easy; it banged outwards into a hundred boards and a thousands splinters and ashes as we burst into the dungeon torch-lights. Giant cogs and gears growled above as we raced faster up the stairs and he pushed me up when I tripped, and there, there the door was to true sunlight but mother-of-all-bastards said doorway had a metal grate closing on it like a freaking axe.

"Skid!" I yelled and we dived at the same time me head first him feet first and we slid in the dust and cobblestones and it hurt but I'm through and when I turned back Sheik Sheik Sheik his head wasn't through and I screamed because the grate fell like a guillotine with teeth, I screwed my eyes shut clang!

… Oh gods, Sheik, Sheik…

A cough. "I'm alright…"

My eyes flew open and he's alright he's alright but the grate's still there pinning him down, two spikes on either side of his neck, the left one impossibly close to impaling his jugular.

And he's freaking laughing. "I'm alright," he chuckled, sounding surprised, "Neat."

"You bastard!"

"Not the kind of language for a lady, I think," he pointed out as he wriggled his head under the grate. And for the first time, we're looking at each other's faces.

He… He would've been average, maybe even handsome, if it wasn't for the giant… something, that marred the right side of his face. It was a network of mottled, melted, rough skin that looked like a complicated cobweb, or series of veins and arteries. It was sprawled across from his neck to his ear, to his jaw and up to his cheek bone, and it framed his eye as well, like a sick map of a demented world. If you ignored that, you saw he had a round, almost childish chin, angular cheekbones, an aquiline nose and his eyes were bright as cherries. I loved cherries.

Those cherries were staring at me, unconditionally. I wondered what he saw.

He smiled, showing white teeth. The right corner of his mouth didn't move. "It is such a waste to hide all that. Not like me."

I shrugged, telling myself to look him in the eye. What had I expected, the epitome of male beauty? "I think your face is quite impressive. Much more memorable than mine,"

"Why thank you." he touched the field of trenches and potholes on his face, his smile wan and sad. "You're the first person that's quite mild about it."

"So… will you start calling me by name now?"

"Of course." He held out his hand to me, and his lopsided smile widened. "I'm Tharlaigh. Tharlaigh Hasheik. Sheik's my nick-name and alias in one. And you are…?"

I took his hand and shook it. "Lin. Lin Knightly."

His grin widened cheekily. "Really? Isn't the wordplay a tad too convenient?"

I pouted. "Well excuse my ten-year-old belief of thinking myself a genius for giving myself a surname that worked even if I added or subtracted a 'k'."

He chuckled and kept looking at me, as if he hadn't seen enough. I looked back; it would hurt him if I turned away. "Well… nice meeting you, Miss Knightly."

"Lin's fine, Tharley. Did I say it right?"

"Nope." He laughed, stood, offered to help me up. "Sheik's fine. Easier to pronounce."

"Right."

"So…" he turned his gaze away, his unblemished side facing me. "Where to now?"

It took us a while to decide. I wanted my bloody hat back, but the grate was charmed to shoot pain at whoever touched it, and Sheik insisted I save my Din's fire for something more mobile and clawed. He reckoned we didn't have time to look for our stuff either, since we didn't know what else the jinx on our cuffs did. For all we knew, a red-alert had been sounded.

And then we had to find the 'boss' of this place, and we had three ideas each. I thought he was either at the highest point, like a tower, lowest point, like the dungeons we were trapped in, or right in the centre of the fortress. Sheik thought that he was either in the most secluded and shadowy corner of the place or in a large space surrounded by his henchmen, or not even in the fortress.

We drew a map in the dust (a vague one, anyway) and this fortress had the structure known as the Sun's Eye. A circular main room at the centre, ground floor, ringed by sleeping quarters, then armoury, then three consecutive rings of defences before hitting the gardens and the outer fortress wing-buildings, which branched out of the main room like rays of light.

We both agreed to go to the middle main chamber. Then we can climb up the towers from there and see what happened. And we could get new weapons for ourselves on the way there too, so easy come, easy go.

Wrong.

There were freaking people in this castle, and I knew nothing about fighting them. Sheik gave me a crash-course as we went. "So see the one blundering towards us like an idiot?"

I told myself to concentrate on the man coming to me, and the close-contact that would ensue from it. Oh gods. "Yep."

"Since he's not well protected, at this point it's best to dodge the blade and give him a quick jab in the gut with any pointy body-part you have."

"Foot, elbow, knee, fist."

"Very good."

We dispatched them together just in case they're better than they seemed. If there were more than four of them we ran. The routine lasted for maybe half an hour.

We were getting nowhere.

"I think…" I wiped sweat off my forehead as we leaned against a wall and regrouped, "I think we're going in the wrong direction."

"No…" he coughed, gulped air, and straightened up from leaning on his knees. He looked beat. "We're going on a tangent."

"There's a difference?"

"Din's fire. Against the first wooden wall we see."

"There they are!"

"Oh boy," Sheik muttered before kicking a path through these heavily annoying and evil hench-people. I wasn't great at the hand-to-hand thing. My kicks had no grace, my punches were blundering and I kept raising an invisible sword or shield when a soldier came yelling with his weapon. I was frantic and had no sense of control when they got close; I just whacked and punched and flayed my arms round until they got scared of my undeniably unskilled tactics. I ended up fighting like a street-rat, kneeing the men between the legs, kicking shins and knees and wrenching pinkie fingers and punching thumbs into eyes, quite undignified.

Sheik's pile of soldiers was big and quiet, limp from getting knocked out. My small number of defeated soldiers were howling and rolling on the ground, clutching their abused appendages.

I compared my pile with his and I wilted. Inadequacy was something new to me.

Sheik burst out laughing at my expression. "You look adorable when you pout, Lin."

The audacity of it! "I'm not pouting!"

"You were," he teased and grabbed my hand and we ran from my pile who were waking up his pile, furtively avoiding looking Sheik in the face. There would be reinforcements.

Where is the way in!? Or out. Out would be nice indeed.

"Here!" Sheik jerked to a stop and he rapped the wooden wall with his knuckles and it sounded hollow, like there was another room behind it. "Blast it away, Lin."

"Pleasure," I grumbled, still annoyed. I. did. not. pout.

The ground convulsed and the air tore open with a screaming roar and heat scoured our faces like a whip of acid, the wall cannoned out of the way with a destructive halo of fire, with splinters, char and ash following its destructive wake like a death cloud.

I gaped. My voice was faint as I croaked, "Oops."

"I'm not complaining," Sheik grinned and led in, careful to step over the flaming remains of the wall, "We're in."

I'd blown into three quarters wall and one quarter narrow corridor, and there were weapons—mostly armour—cluttered across the floor and we carefully tip-toed away from the mess I'd caused, and ran a tad to be out of sight. We stopped to catch our breath, and I looked around, finally realising where we were. The armoury.

I was surprised. Somehow, we'd gotten past the three consecutive rings of human defences. I watched Sheik's back, and marvelled at his ability at running away in the right direction.

"Here." He threw me a long-sword, the cutting blade wickedly sharp and thin and most importantly light. I was thankful for that because it was the hat that gave me extra strength to hold the metal monstrosities known as broadswords. "Best I could see."

"You're a saint."

He grimaced playfully. "Pretty ugly one, though."

I rolled my eyes. I noticed with delight that I was already used to his face; his cheery attitude helped.

He was taking his sweet time, choosing his own weapon. We ambled our way past the racks of weapons. No soldiers were running for us. "Should I go for an axe? I feel like an axe. Or a chain-whip."

"Is there a mixture of both? And can you avoid killing people with it?" I answered patiently as I looked around for a shield. A small one. Unlike the rest of the fortress, these corridors could hold three people aligned, max.

"Most likely not." he sighed and then, "It's not much of a team-work weapon anyway. I'll go for a…" he twiddled his fingers and his arm leaped out and yanked at something long.

I gaped at it. "It's a stick."

"Well…"

"It's a blunt stick."

Sheik gave me a patient look before the stick whirred around him like a tornado, behind and up and around to demonstrate his deft skill. It snapped back into position, one eyebrow of his raised. "We're facing people, aren't we?"

We spun round weapons drawn when something knocked a stray piece of armour. Tektite. They'd rounded a corner I hadn't seen. Five of them.

I grinned. My territory now. I leapt past Sheik and thrust and ripped the blade up through One's body and kicked Two into Three Four Five and I splayed my hands and they were pushed squealing against the side wall. Splat went two tektites and I cut the last two in half with a horizontal slash. They burst in flame, leaving a trail of nasty lime-coloured intestine juice.

I turned to look at Sheik, wide-eyed and mouth a small surprised 'o'. I grinned childishly. "Ten seconds; best record ever."

He submitted to a chuckle and shook his head. "You insane woman."

I pou-I frowned and puzzled over the sudden development, ignoring his comment, "Why the sudden enemy change?"

"Well," Sheik contemplatively raised his stick as a Wallmaster dropped from the ceiling. The thing nearly impaled itself on the stick but fell to the floor writhing and was finished off by something sharp that Sheik kicked off the floor and threw into the general vicinity of its heart. Sheik seemed not to notice it was even there. "Maybe our boss doesn't want anybody getting ideas about his plan?"

In other words, we were getting closer.