"What do you mean 'urine'?!" I snapped acerbically, my nose wrinkling in disgust.

Surprise glimpsed across Link's face, and his reply came as a series of barking coughs as he choked on his meal, laughing. When finally he managed to swallow the mouthful of soup, he spat out teasingly, "Are we a bit squeamish, Ilia?" continuing to wipe a thumb over his smiling lips. "Something told me you'd react that way. Honestly, though, it's just how it's done out here; when you're on the road, you use urine to clean your clothes." Link explained with a lazy gesture of his hand from his left to his right.

Did he think I was simple? I found myself growing evermore irritated.

Putting his empty bowl aside, he shrugged and reclined, attentively pushing his long sleeve over his bandages, "It's just something you'll have to get used to."

However, quite contrary to his nonchalant behavior, I was abhorred and in quite the state of unrest. What kind of heathens urinated on their clothes to get them clean? In my head, it seemed to prove the perfect opposite. The very idea sent a wave of revulsion through me, lingering as a tingle in my thighs.

"But why urine?" I pressed, "Does it not occur to anyone that civilized people don't urinate on our clothes? Whatever happened to soap?!" A hysterical tone growing in my voice as I reached the edge of a tizzy.

He gave me another shrug, a faint smirk still playing on his lips as he waggled a motherly finger at me, "Civilized?" He asked wryly, "That's the thing, Ilia. You see," he gestured to the canopy of leaves above us, twirling his finger, "you only need to look up. Here, we aren't among the civilized." Link's knowing gaze fell earthbound and locked onto mine, "Here, we're at the mercy of the elements."

My lips tightened.

"Besides," he prattled on, waving his hand dismissively, "you shouldn't be dragging that kind of thing into the wilderness anyway. I don't see the need to explain further, and I hope that this time you trust me on the matter."

Attention piqued, my eyes fell cautiously upon my pack, which I knew full well was stuffed with unmentionables. Lips pursed and brows raised, I quickly shook off the conspicuous expression in an attempt to appear less guilty and shifting my focus back to Link, I continued unabated, "So... all of your clothes are cleaned with—?"

"Yep, piss!" He stated simply, finishing my sentence with a sarcastic grin, "My own recipe."

Retching childishly, my hand clapped to my chest as I fought the urge to vomit, "My Gods, Link," I gulped, "that is the most repulsive thing I've ever heard..." Snapping to my feet, I hunched my shoulders and shuddered in my distaste; my morning was ruined and my mood soured. Great.

"Anyway," I continued with a deep breath, "enough of this," I accentuated, arms pinned to my sides, "just thinking about it makes me feel dirty."

Once it occurred to me, I perked up and tousled my short hair, then, looking at my hand in revulsion, said, "In fact, I could use a bath."

With a chuckle, Link muttered, "You could say that..."

My focus whipped so raptly over my shoulder that, if able, it'd be violently hurling daggers into him. My hands coiled into tight fists and I dared him in a disgruntled tone, "Wanna say that a little louder this time, Link? I couldn't quite hear you."

Eyes cautiously averted, he motioned a zip over his lips, leaning back once again and tucking his good hand behind his head.

"That's what I thought," I groused, turning away, "I liked the silent you better, anyway."

Harrumphing, I rummaged through my bag and gathered my things for a long awaited bath. My attitude took a turn as I readied myself for my favorite luxury of home, humming a pleasant tune with a smile on my face, which only got wider as I ran through a list of things I'd need, "Towels, a face cloth, and—ooh! My sea sponge!" As I quickly amassed my items, now being much more attentive to what Link could and couldn't see, I wrapped the fancy soaps and shampoos carefully in my change of clothes and headed toward the river, but didn't get far as my mind wandered. I still found myself perturbed, the idea of my clothes being cleaned in even my own urine was so outside of my concept of reality, I couldn't picture it, which was about the time I recalled my run in with Coro yesterday.

My feet carried me only a few steps before I began to slow, the look on my face ranging at first from pleased, to concerned, then to borderline distraught. The thoughts that raced through my head were gaining speed, images of Coro with the wash basin, my apron, the jar of mystery liquid rattling about behind my eyes, and they all swiftly culled to a very unfortunate conclusion, manifesting into an almost inaudible whisper:

"…He used urine."

Link's ear twitched and he lazily peeled one eye open, uttering a simple, "Hm—?"

"He used urine!" I wailed, whipping around dramatically, my things tumbling to the ground, "Link, Coro used urine to clean my smock! And I was wearing it all day!" Overwhelmed with revulsion, I began my rampage which quelled to a grumble as I gathered my abandoned items.

Link watched me idly for a moment, "You mean the one you're wearing right now?"

My body lurched to a dead stop, poised over a forgotten cloth in the grass, my arm outstretched to retrieve it. With wide eyes, they fell slowly southward upon the apron I was indeed wearing.

Until recently, my mind whirred with pleasant thoughts of the coming day, and after last night, I was finally feeling guilt-free; I was at ease. By this point, I was the furthest thing from. My pupils dilated, my lips pursed, and a healthy perspiration formed on my brow.

I believe they call that an 'epiphany'.

With every ounce of will that remained in my body, I forced one hand to reach down, pluck up the corner of my smock between my forefinger and thumb, and brought it a hair's breadth from my nose, drawing in a brave breath.

In a flash, I cast it away, reached over my shoulders, seized two handsome handfuls of my apron, and in one fell swoop, tried with all my might to rip it from my very body. What I didn't figure into the equation, however, was the strap which was once draped lightly over the back of my neck, now had a merciless stranglehold on my tangled hair.

"Get this off of me, Link! Oh my Gods!" I shrieked, the halter that looped around my head catching taut in my hair as I yanked in protest. I could almost feel the filth from my pinafore suddenly crawling all over me like bugs, tingling every bit of skin that the fabric touched.

"Ilia?" Link murmured beneath half lidded eyes, a brow popping up on his apathetic forehead.

He must've looked up and seen my distress, but decided he'd rather watch me writhe for a minute with a look of indifference. I knew it amused him watching me make a fool of myself; I was sure I even heard him laugh.

Rolling his eyes, he shook his blonde head and hoisted himself up to save me from myself.

The rustling of clothes followed by the rough scuffing of boots on the dirt and it was obvious he was approaching, nothing out of the ordinary whatsoever, and yet, for strange reasons unbeknownst to me, my breath caught high in my chest and my squirming ceased instantly. In an instant, I was the prey being stalked by the predatory hunter as he silently closed in, and I hid motionless in the tall grass to avoid any and all detection.

With my hands pressed against the inner walls of my smock to tent it outward, a look of discontent washed over my face, my eyes darting to and fro and my teeth gnashed inside my skull, as I became evermore anxious of Link's advancing footsteps. The rigidity in my bones grew with each passing second and my skin became slick, this time, with a sickly, nervous perspiration. Like fever sweats. Even through the blur of perplexing panic, my brain tried to piece together why in the Gods' names I would be reacting like a petrified animal when there was exactly nothing to fear?

Was I ill? Could it be some kind of residual affect of those pesky duskberries I'd eaten two nights ago? Certainly not, I'd felt fine all day before this. Was I embarrassed? I wondered if one could really embarrass themselves so many times in such a short span of time.

However I wanted to hash it, though, the internal conflict that raged within my poor head was surely longer than a more realistic few seconds, but as I put myself through the gauntlet, Link reached ever closer, an arm innocently outstretched to me;

and then he touched me.

The next instant carried on for what seemed like forever. For only a moment, his rough, calloused fingers brushed against my neck, accidentally tracing the skin at the nape, the tips dipping ever-so-slightly into the collar of my dress.

Inside the cocoon of my smock, I got very still.

Only the sound of my breathing breaking the deafening silence.

My heart rattled like a panicked bird in a cage inside my chest, the fluttering of its wings sending a plume of pink into my cheeks as they grew hotter in the midst of my terror. The persistent annoyance welled up inside me and I bit my lip in my frustrated attempt to keep from lashing out and punching him.

Suddenly, as I feared, I had become the hunted, something I was not accustomed to.

Unaware of how traumatic his presumably pure actions were on my psyche, Link continued attempting to remove the clothes, his fingers raked gently through my ashy hair as he flipped the back of the smock away from my head. Upon being freed of the chaos, my bewildered gaze shot to the ground; cheeks red, eyes wide, lips set in a straight line and totally consumed by what felt like embarrassment, I sat obstinately on the ground, hoping with every ounce of me that Link couldn't see my face. Unabated, his hardened palm brushed up the length of my arm and shoulder as he leaned in close, muttering a bit incoherently as he attempted to undo the puzzle I had made of my hair. Finally, he reached behind me and gently tugged the apron knot open.

As the trusses fell from my hair, I blinked in a stupor, light stars skirting around my peripherals. Eyes darting side to side in the midst of my confusion, Link held the smock up to his nose and drew in a light breath, rolling his eyes, "I say you're smelling things, Ilia, but I'll wash it again if you'd like."

With my body turned away, I watched the ground and quickly nodded. Even if it meant shutting my mouth and letting him say what he pleased, I'd do anything to get him out of here and fast.

Link scooped up a basin, plopped a jar of vinegar into it and headed toward the river, "Alright then, that's where I'll be. Be back in a bit."

After a minute or two, and when Link was completely out of earshot, my lungs finally decided to start working again and I all but deflated. My fingertips shakily found my lips, moved up the length of my nose and ran through my still tangled and messy hair, I barely stammered out, "...What...was that?"

The weight of what had just happened seemed to strike all at once, and with a misty gaze glancing about the littered ground, it found its way up and over my shoulder, my expression forming into a cocktail of distracted and shocked.

"That's never...happened to me before. Did I have a stroke? What was that...?" I repeated, casting yet another sidelong peek behind me, my weakened legs bringing me unsteadily to my feet. Winding my fingers into my hair again, I grasped my head, hoping a good shake would set things straight, "Forget about just now, what happened last night? I was...blushing and-and— I was acting like such an idiot!" I scolded myself, "But," my hand slipped from my hair and found my heart, "How did he do that? He made me so...so..." I stammered, searching for the right word, "...nervous."

I swallowed and placed my palm to my forehead, "I must not be feeling well. I'm much sweatier than I was before that-that animal came near me!" I spat, my voice thick with forced disgust, and yet upon the word 'animal', my hands involuntarily shot up to my chest, another strange feeling washing over me.

My eyes rolled back as my head came forward, landing in my palms with a slap, "Gods, what's wrong with me?!" I sighed, let loose a shaky shudder and reclaimed my things. Maybe after a nice bath some normality would return and we'd be on our way soon.

My simple wish wasn't to be.

Not a moment passed after I finished gathering my toiletries when a powerful shout rang through the air, bringing me instantly to my feet. I snapped to attention and my effects were as good as abandoned once again as I made a mad dash for the river bank. Bare foot and everything, I crashed relentlessly through the brush and came to a screeching halt, my heels digging into the soft sand on the shore; I looked on in horror as the injured Link waded, waist deep through the river, attempting to fetch the smock that had seemingly tried to escape. My mind didn't register at first, but I quickly realized that he was grasping the very tips of a branch off a felled tree. Eyes shifting apprehensively for only an second, I drew in every ounce of breath I could muster and took the dive.

XxXxX

"That's what I thought," she quipped and turned away, "I liked the silent you better, anyway."

My eyebrow twitched.

What an amazing revolution, that, and even more incredible that it hadn't occurred to me until just then.

I had been talking more than usual.

A lot more than usual.

In fact, 100%more than usual.

It was something I hadn't even considered once the first word had been spoken and Ilia's initial shock had worn off. The dam had been opened and I didn't even think twice about leaving it that way.

Hand behind my head and facing downward, my eyes turned up thoughtfully toward the hopeless princess who was two elbows deep in her pack, getting ready for her bath. I rolled my eyes with a playful smirk as she shouted out each and every thing she grabbed. She was so much a kid still, it broke my heart a bit that this journey would really solidify adulthood for her.

I thought twice, though, when I recalled how mean she was, just sort of in general.

Chuckling, I realized my sudden desire for conversation was something I'd have to revisit later, but for now, I felt I could just let it go and focus on the matter at hand.

Smiling wistfully, I closed my eyes and got comfortable with my back against the base of the tree, glad for a moment to myself. Of course it was short lived, because not a minute later, about a stone's throw away, I heard a half-ignored complaint from Ilia, and when I dared peel open one eye to mutter a single 'Hm?', she followed with a quite unhappy screech, her stuff clattering all over the ground as she whirled around on me, "He used urine! Link, Coro used urine to clean my smock! And I was wearing it all day!"

A brow cocked up on my forehead, she was probably right, but it was nothing new to me, and when I glanced down at the smock she was wearing, it hit me that it was the same one she was wearing yesterday, the same one that Coro had washed. For a moment, I considered not mentioning anything about it as she grumbled under her breath and picked up her items that she'd thrown all over hell, just to give her a little peace of mind, but when I thought about how much I enjoyed teasing her, I fought the urge to smirk and gave into my childish desires, expression like slate as I pointed out starkly, "You mean the one you're wearing right now?"
Now, the look that came over her face was a lot like how someone might describe a beautiful sunset, or magic, something you only read about in story books but can't fully appreciate until you experience it for yourself. That lasted a few seconds, then I watched from a safe distance as she cautiously sniffed the very corner of her apron, not nearly enough to actually catch the smell, and all in one blur of motion, got herself hopelessly tangled in it. I would've snorted in laughter had I thought she wouldn't hear it.

She screamed for a moment, demanding that I get it off of her, struggling all on her own, but it was just too good an opportunity to pass up. I smiled again, thinking that Bo would really be one to recognize this for what it was: good old fashioned character building. I thought I'd give it a minute, if for nothing else than to honor Bo, and just enjoy the show.

When the fight didn't stop after a few more seconds, I raised a brow, in no hurry to get up and help her. I shifted a bit, sitting up straight, "Ilia?" I said, slightly louder than usual.

She didn't reply with any words, just a series of grunting and moaning sounds, and while I would've loved to let her sit there and fight with a piece of piss covered cloth, I knew not everything in life should be a lesson and even the most hard headed of us needed help when we're just too stubborn to ask for it. That, and I'd never hear the end of it if I didn't get it in gear.

Rolling my eyes, I got wearily to my feet and noticed her writhing stopped almost instantly. The air around her seemed a little tense, but I figured she was embarrassed that she'd had to accept more help from me. It was something we both knew she had difficulties with. Again, I rolled my eyes and ducked down to try and undo the tangled mess she'd gotten herself into.

A few seconds later, and I had her free, bringing the apron up to my own nose and taking a whiff, "I say you're smelling things, Ilia, but I'll wash it again if you'd like."

Her demure posture was really unlike her, but it wasn't something I was about to question. In fact, I was just happy she wasn't yelling at me. Having to fight the laughter back, I grabbed a few things, tossed them all into a basin and headed off toward the river, "Alright, then, that's where I'll be. Be back in a bit."

I didn't bother to wait for a response, seeing as the river wasn't all that far from camp, and by this point I felt I could trust Ilia not to wander off like a lost cucco. By this point.

XxXxX

OoOoO

Whipping his head side to side, Link ran his fingers through the mop of wet, earthy blonde hair, ears poking up out of the mess, and he chuckled a bit in his embarrassment, a crooked smile adorning his lips.

It may have been unfair, 'unfair' being incredibly subjective, but it was mostly an opportunity to wreak havoc on Link's poor head while I was good and angry, so I pounced.

Snapping my head back and balling up my fists, I shrieked at Link as loudly as my piercing voice would allow, "Link, what in the Gods' good names were you thinking?! You could've died back there! And for what?! Some stupid clothes?!"

As I howled on, I imagine in retrospect that my appearance probably wasn't all that intimidating, as I was sopping wet and filthy from head to toe. A dripping mass of angry female, somewhat resembling a drowned cat; honestly, not all that frightening.

But sharp, nonetheless.

He simply smiled down at me, shrugging his good shoulder, "What? The current picked up your apron when my fingers slipped and it...got away. I mean, I was only using one hand," gesturing to his injury with a grin.

Instantly, my shrieking ceased and I winced.

It was like he was trying to make me feel bad. A bit of me hurt to be reminded of my stubbornness from the night before, partly from new found embarrassment, partly from remaining stubbornness, but mostly because I knew I deserved it and that alone was enough to turn my cheeks red. I cleared my throat, placed my hands on my hips and took my punishment with at least some dignity.

It was made apparent that Link wasn't being vindictive as he continued, "Anyway, I think it'd be a good idea if we divvy up the chores. It's only fair, and there's not much I can do...with this." He trailed off, sounding the tiniest bit defeated as he glanced down at his impaired left arm, then turned away.

Then came that pesky 'guilt' feeling again.

I tried to fight it, but something about last night and this morning had made me weak, had damaged my morale. The inner conflict from earlier was fighting a different battle now. Unfortunately, though, I caved. My conscious was shaking its head in disgust, I could see it now. With locked knees and a white-knuckled tension, I set my defeat in stone and sputtered a bit too loudly, "Th-That's fair!"

Without looking up, I could feel the air become tight and somehow, I could tell was still. After a moment, I heard the sound of a booted heel slowly grinding against coarse earth and a voice pointed at me ask, "...What was that?"

In an attempt to make light of my comment, I rolled my eyes and loosened my tightly gripped fists, crossing them over my chest as I turned my body casually to the side, "I said 'that's fair'. Of course it is. Your arm is hurt...because of me," I mirrored my speech from the night before, finding that it tasted a bit better coming back up than I first imagined, "it's only right that I share the burden."

When I dared turn to face him again, I immediately regretted it, meeting Link's incredulous gray-blue gaze, complete with his fists on his hips, cocked brow, the works.

"...What?" I hesitated, leaning away from him defensively, a quizzical look on my face.

He smirked in playful disbelief and stood upright, hands still planted on his sides, saying wryly, "Oh, nothing."

Was it so strange to believe that I could see the error of my ways?

It was my turn to cock a brow, "Alright...?" I lightly flicked my bangs from my eyes, changing the subject, "Anyway, about those chores... What should I start with?"

When I saw him retrieving the guide, I rolled my eyes, and he wetly plopped down on his furs, beginning to leaf through the completed pages, "Well, there's enough information in the first chapter to get you started on the basics of living on the road. Things like gathering food, spices, and kindling, washing clothes, digging catholes-"

"Cat-holes?" I enunciated, the uneasiness seemingly fading for only a moment.

Link's brows raised as my question caught him off guard, "A cathole, yeah. It's for... What's the proper way of putting this?" He scratched his chin for a moment, and shrugged in mock defeat, "Feces."

I gulped. I hadn't even thought about having to waste outside, like some kind of animal. I'd only needed to do my business once so far, and it was within the privacy of Coro's home.

"Y-You know what?" I waved my hands, keeping my head down, "I've had enough potty talk today. Just...put it in the guide and I'll follow the directions."

He chuckled lightheartedly in response, sounding a lot like he was enjoying making me feel uncomfortable, "Duly noted," he loosened the sling around his arm, "I'll work on the guide for a bit, sort of map out what a day in the wilderness looks like for me. While I'm doing that, you can start working through the first few pages, get the easy stuff down. Sound fair?"

I nodded and turned a shoulder to him, crossing my arms over one another, "Fair enough, hand it over, then."

"Before you head off," he mentioned quickly, setting down the book and reaching into his pack, "I could stand to have my bandages changed again, seeing as they're soaking wet." He gingerly rotated his shoulder, "If you'd be so kind." He looked up at me through his eyelashes, and threw at me a smile that seemed so innocent upon first glance.

For a moment, I hesitated as memories of the night before rushed back into my head. Right away I felt uneasy about being in such close proximity with him again after this morning's little episode, unsure if the nervous sweats were all that welcome a second, or third, time around and still confused as to why it happened in the first place. I peeked up at Link, who simply cocked his head to the side in question. My ears felt hot; I guess the sweats weren'tas unwelcome as I thought.

"I-I could do that." I finally decided.

He smiled in thanks.

What a strange feeling this was, not all unpleasant, but definitely not all pleasant. Whatever this was, it manifested as a welling in my throat, a ringing in my ears, and my head teetered dizzily like a deflating balloon. On the contrary, however, I found that a peculiar warmth pumped through my veins, it settled in the rounds of my ears, the apples of my cheeks, and the depths of my heart. It was a sensation that seemed to rise and ebb like the ocean's waves throughout the day and I didn't much care for it.

As I grabbed the new bandages from his hand, I watched as Link examined the used fabric dangling from his sleeve, seemingly hesitant to begin, and his expression wrinkled in consternation.

"What's that face for?" I asked.

"I'm...just not sure how to go about doing this." He mumbled contemplatively, gently fingering the soaked strips that drooped from the cuff around his wrist.

I looked over the tangled mess of bandages and sighed, pointing out the obvious, "Well...it looks like you need help."

He lowered his head for a moment in thought, and I couldn't resist the opportunity to curiously eye him; given everything that he knew and how often I'd seen him jump to the right solution on the first attempt, it was almost strange to watch him puzzle over something. It just reminded me that he didn't have all the answers. It was very humanizing. That, and with everything that'd been going on this morning, I felt like I was somehow getting my fix just by looking at him when his eyes couldn't meet mine.

Just as quickly though, he bounced back, chuckling sheepishly and scratching the back of his head, that dopey grin returning with a vengeance, "Yeah, I suppose I do."

I fumbled a bit in surprise as I readied my tools, my somewhat longing gaze becoming more of an intense stare and, of course, my ears grew hot once again. I let out another sigh and got to work, kneeling down beside him and struggling to finish untying the sopping wet sling first. When the knot finally gave way, it jerked toward me quite hard, tugging his injured shoulder with.

He gnashed his teeth together and a short groan rumbled in his chest. I noticed immediately that his breathing picked up a bit. I quickly stammered out a quiet, halfhearted apology, too proud to manage a real one, although he didn't seem to notice I'd said anything at all. Then there was the matter of his tunic. The sleeves were long, and because of our little swim, the fabric had expanded quite a bit, so there was no pushing it up past his wrist, over the wound, and then attempting to roll it up his bicep.

I'd be damned if I didn't try though.

Rubbing my hands together, I attempted to roll up the sleeves of the top, but just as I suspected, it was to no avail. I opened my mouth to tell him to strip off his shirt, but the words seemed to jumble up, running into one another like a train wreck and clog halfway out my throat as I realized what my stupid mouth was about to say. My heart took no time to begin to race and pound in my ears.

No.

No, no, no, no, no, not this again. I had only agreed to help him dress his wound, and if part of that would entail his tunic coming off, I wasn't sure I could handle it, not when the possibility of blacking out existed.

Damn this confusing ailment of mine!

I tried to convince myself that it was simply a medical procedure, no depravity or vulgarity involved, so the hysterics of my heart were unnecessary, but still, I silently cursed myself; I was doing so well! Why it terrified me to imagine it, I had no idea, but just the thought of seeing his bare chest again made me nauseated. I thought for sure I'd die of blood loss from the torrential downpour out of my nose. By this point, my entire face and easily down to my neck was bright pink, and I realized I had been sitting behind him for several minutes, doing nothing but breathing heavily and sweating.

"Everything alright back there?" He asked, a smile hinting in his voice.

The sudden sound ripped me out of my stupor and caused me to jump. I wiped my brow, swallowed hard, and donned a determined scowl, "...I-I'll need you to take off your tunic."

Somehow, I was still compelled to believe that with a new found confidence, I could barrel past my modesty, put on my blinders, and deal with the situation from a purely medical perspective.

Oh, how wrong I was.

"Oh, sure. Give me a moment..." Then, for an embarrassing amount of time, I watched him struggle fruitlessly in his damp shirt, trying with all his might to get out of it without upsetting the already mangled bandages. The sinew of his back seemed to undulate hypnotically as his shoulders swayed from side to side, trying to wriggle out of the shirt, and I was all but enchanted.

I clapped a hand to my forehead, dragged it down the length of my face and let it collapse into my lap, silently screaming up into the sky, 'why me'.

Fed up with my head playing these games with me, it seemed high time I seized control of the situation, "Hold still," I commanded, grabbing two handsome fistfuls of the tunic to slip it up the length of his torso. As I worked away at it, astoundingly, my eyes managed to keep busy elsewhere, perhaps due to concentration, perhaps due to annoyance, either way, I was happy with the outcome.

With a great deal of tugging here and stuffing there, and maybe a bit of ripping, I was able to get his right arm out from under the tunic and out popped his head from the collar. The entire time I struggled, sweated, and wordlessly blamed the Goddesses themselves for this, Link only laughed, apparently finding my hardships to be the most hilarious endeavor. Toward the end, I couldn't help but pitifully chuckle, too. After all, Link did look pretty stupid all tangled up in his own top.

Finally tugging the tunic off his injured shoulder, I tossed it to the ground and swiped my hands with a relieved sigh, "There. At last." When I found it in myself to glance over at Link's back, I was pleasantly surprised to find that I was less enthralled than I originally thought I'd be. I cocked a brow and continued with my work.

Examining the bare wounds, the bite marks were doing a wonderful job of healing and the bruising had gone down quite significantly. I was rather pleased with myself, seeing as the treatment I did was actually helping. His recently relocated shoulder, too, was mending nicely, the swelling barely noticeable, and I'd even seen him move it a couple of times this morning.

Slightly, I smiled at my work, proud that I'd done some good here in recent days.

Within just a few minutes, I had carefully removed the old bandages, medicated the still very purple and punctured forearm just above the elbow, and bound it up once more.

With nary a wince, Link gingerly pivoted his shoulder and studied the finished product. He reached for his pack and chuckled, pulling out a new sling, "You're getting good at this," he gestured, smirking.

Immediately and involuntarily, my attention shot to my twiddling thumbs. It was one thing to praise myself, but another thing entirely to hear it from Link. Though only since this recent development, of course. In years passed, I would have shrugged off a compliment from him like a fly on my shoulder, and now, with the flip of a switch, I was pudding in girl's clothing.

Oh, how I wanted to say something; 'thank you', 'eat me', anything! But to my dismay, my lips wouldn't budge.

Ignoring my turmoil, he quickly tugged the cloth into a new sling using his teeth, slipped it over his head and gently nestled his injured arm into it. With a hefty tug, he seemed satisfied and hoisted himself up from his bed, "Thank you, Ilia, over and over again, thanks." He grinned that stupid grin of his.

Again, my head wanted to say one thing, but my lips had something else in mind, "Just shut up about it, it's not that big a deal."

He just chuckled, running his good hand through his unkempt hair, "You're right, it isn't, but I can still be thankful. Anyway," he said, plucking up the guide and handing it over, "here you are," he grinned, "and don't worry about the mess, I'll take care of it."

Fumbling the book a bit as he tossed it my way, I immediately excused myself in hope that he hadn't caught my nervousness yet, "Alright, now that I'm done fussing with you and your nonsense, I'll be going."

"Ilia?"

I stopped suddenly and gulped, craning my neck to peer suspiciously over my shoulder, still sure to keep my eyes at an appropriate height, as my focus on the 'medical procedure' had failed me miserably, "...Yes?"

Gathering the bandages, he tossed them into the fire pit and picked up his dirty tunic, still bare chested, readying the basin and vinegar, "I meant what I said." He smirked once more and turned off toward the river.

All I could think to do was stare after him as I felt the guide slip from my jostled grasp and plop into the dirt with a soft thump. The instant he was out of sight, I quickly knelt down, scrambled to gather up the journal and jolted upright again, scampering off in the opposite direction, my empty pack bouncing on my hip.

OoOoO

With a pack half full of kindling, I stood straight and stretched my sore back, "Oof... I hope Link never told me this was going to be fun, otherwise I'd have to label him a liar." I groused, popping my creaky joints.

I was quite incredulous about having to follow the guide just to collect kindling; I did have a hearth back home in Ordon. Rolling my eyes, I thought just to be safe, I should read the instructions. Leafing through the pages, I was surprised to discover something I didn't know: I needed to collect tinder as well. Of course, that proved much easier than finding kindling, but it was still that extra step that had I not taken it, it would've put me back into the woods to finish the job.

As I trudged further away from the river and through the overgrowth, I found that my mind skipped whimsically behind me, back to camp.

Back to him.

Borderline disgusted with myself, I gave my temple a swift whack with the heel of my palm, "Knock it off, Ilia..." My fist clapped against my open palm, and I spouted with determination, "Keep focused. You have business here, and you can't afford to lose sight of your mission: Get to Castle Town." It felt like the first time I had been reminded since I made up my mind to go.

My miniature pep talk seemed to keep me a bit more centered on my chores, and it gave my thoughts a chance to clear, completely unclouded by the idea of Link or anything about him, even if just for a second. I breathed more freely, and felt the blood circulate more evenly throughout my body.

I felt peaceful again.

Finally breaking through the thick brush into a clearing, it opened to a small glade where the surrounding bushes and long grass sported various kinds of wildflowers, some of which looked strikingly similar to the spicy Calendula flowers. A small smile perked up my cheeks and I trekked over, cracking open the guide and thumbing through the pages, "Let's take a look... Might as well, right?"

I browsed the journal, and was shocked at the amount of work Link had put into such a small project. Begrudgingly, and through half-lidded eyes, I appreciated how he managed to capture every detail of every mushroom, root, flower, and fruit. The pages were full of sketches and footnotes, arrows and ideas; it was like he knew nature better than he knew people. Link was incredibly seasoned in surviving in the wilderness, and put plenty of effort into it, but the idea that he was doing it just for me was...something else entirely.

The strange heat began slowly returning to my face.

Irritating. That's what the 'something else' was.

My smile fell a bit crooked as the incessant tugging of my heart drew my eyes over my shoulder once again, finding myself staring longingly back down the path. A quick slap to the face solved that problem right quick, and I repeated, "Focus, Ilia..."

Getting back to work, I briskly flicked through the pages, found the chapter on identifying flowers, then the section on the edible ones; a few of the drawings were identical to the blossoms I'd found on the vines. It gave easy instructions on picking the best ones, "'Be sure to pick the top-most fruit of any bearing tree because they're the sweetest and the healthiest. If the fruit separates easily from the stem, it's ready to be harvested,'" I read aloud and, dropping the book, began my descent.

As I picked, I glanced down at the open pages and compared, following the instructions accordingly. Before long, I had garnered four different species, all of which being different colors and flavors: The royalpit, the tingroot, the daylily, and the graperoot.

Packing them in their own individual jars, I realized my chores were nearing their end, and a bit of me was a little excited to head back to camp and show Link my findings, which I resented. Yet again, I was feeling myself being drawn back to him, my mind and body just yearning to be near him. I shook my head fervently, running a dirtied hand through my hair, "What is this...?."

XxXxX

Once I was dressed in clean clothes and done with my part of the chores, I was still finished well before Ilia and had more time on my hands than I felt useful with. I busied myself with tidying camp; I rearranged my bedroll, organized my pack, and took inventory of our assets, but still, too much time.

Flopping down onto my neatly laid out bedroll, I rested my chin on my balled up fist in thought. I realized there was no relaxing out in the open like this, I simply felt too vulnerable. It'd be one thing if it was me alone, but since I had Ilia to look after, it made me nervous to try to sleep or wander too far from camp in case something happened; I'd need to be able to jump right on it.

"Speaking of Ilia," I murmured, glancing over my shoulder and peering into the thickness of the woods. Even for her, the last couple of days were a brand of crazy I'd only seen her wear a few times in my life, and with nothing to account for it, that made it worse. It got me thinking of what Ilia had pointed out this morning. That I was much more talkative. Even chatty.

She'd seemed to have gotten over the initial shock fairly quickly. She didn't break anything, which was a step in the right direction. As for me, there was nothing I could really attribute my sudden urge for conversation to, only that now, I simply felt more comfortable talking to her, whereas before, I just didn't.

Nothing in particular had really changed for me, if anything, her attitude had just taken a turn for the worse within the last forty-eight hours, and was making my job harder at every turn. I guess the idea of a conversation with Ilia didn't seem so bad in comparison to all the yelling I'd just done the night before.

I ran my fingers through my hand, feeling a little embarrassed recalling it.

It really begged the question, though, why was I suddenly so unfazed in talking? And especially to Ilia? The whole mess made me really want to get to the bottom of it.

If there was a person I should feel less open about talking to, it would be her.

Even as a kid, I wasn't very social, but it only worsened as I grew. Bo and Calista had some difficulty trying to figure me out when they first brought me home, and even Ilia had taken a little bit of a liking to me at that point, attempting to help her parents read me. I chuckled, remembering her over enunciating words, like I didn't know what they were. She would practically shout words like 'milk', 'toy', or 'sister' in my face and I would just nod and smile, hoping that'd satisfy her. It usually did, because she'd end up running to her parents, telling them I was asking for 'milk' or 'toys', which I'd then receive when I didn't have any particular want for it.

I sighed; since our departure, Calista had been on my mind a lot, and Ilia was no help in quelling the memories.

She looked just like her mother.

Scratching my head, I reached for my pack and readied a fishing line and a hook. Just like a woman's love for baths, men had their loves, too.

Hoisting myself up from the ground, I threaded the line through the telescopic pole and headed for the river's edge, hoping being preoccupied would help keep my head off of both Ilia and Calista, however hard it may be.

I plopped down on a boulder that rested just inside the water's reach, lapping up its rotund sides, and I baited my hook, grunting and fidgeting, finding it a bit difficult to do with one hand. Once I had it, though, it just required me to wait. The butt of the fishing pole was nestled in the rocks, keeping it from immediately being yanked into the river if it should catch a fish's eye.

My good hand dangled between my knees as I leaned forward to rest, the sling doing a good job of holding up my injured arm. I slipped the cloth off my right shoulder and carefully moved the bandages on my left arm, checking on the wound beneath. The skin surrounding the gash itself was still pretty tender and angry, but there was no sign of infection as of yet, and I had Ilia to thank for that. I couldn't help but chuckle at her awkwardness around me these days, and it made me wonder what could possibly be the cause. I had a couple of ideas, but I thought leaving something to the imagination made for a better game in the long run, so letting her stew and blow things way out of proportion was way more fun.

With a bit of trouble, I managed to get the bandages back into place, although somewhat clumsily, and the sling put back over my shoulder. The choice of a looser tunic made checking on the wounds quite a bit easier, hopefully alleviating the hassle of ruining another of my shirts. I sighed again, reaching over and hooking a finger around the line, giving it a gentle tug, "Maybe another day, and I'll be back on my feet."

Carefully, I rotated my shoulder, finding the pain was a lot less so than this morning, just a dull ache now, "Another day." I repeated.

Not a moment after my hand had returned to my lap did the reel start spinning and whirring like mad. I leaped up and snagged the pole in one hand, leaving its end stuffed between the rocks, "Come on, come on..." I coaxed, reefing back on the line and giving it slack, "What's for supper tonight?"

Then, from the water, out popped a twig. A little one, even.

With a tired smile, I untangled the little branch and tossed it back into the water, casting my line again, hoping for something a bit more edible this time around, "Where are you biting, fish?"

OoOoO

Slowly, with my hands linked behind me, I dawdled on my way back, procrastinating my arrival to give my brain one last bout of peace before I was in Link's presence and it returned to being a muddled mess. My head dropped back, facing skyward, and I closed my eyes, my chest stretched with a deep breath and whispered sullenly to myself, "What's going on with you, Ilia?"

In the last few hours alone, I'd had a serious handful of fits, and not the kind I was used to. What with my face heating up, my ears ringing, and my heart beating fast as hell, all things considered, I felt ill. I tried ascribing my symptoms to fever, to eating something bad, even to homesickness. I wanted them to be something other than the obvious so badly, but unfortunately for me, I knew, for all uncertain terms, it was the truth.

The signs were there, I was just refusing to read them.

My throat had never felt so tight as I attempted to allow the diagnosis to scrawl through my head and muster on my lips, but to no avail. I'd never felt this way about anyone before, and with the way it made me feel, I wasn't sure that I found it to my liking.

Quickly, I snapped up straight and shook my head, roughly rubbing my eyes with the heels of my palms, the surest way to rid my head of such nasty ideas, "No, it's something else for sure," I muttered, unconvinced.

When I pulled my hands away from my face, the firelight from camp glowed nearby.

Queue blood pressure spike.

With a long sigh, I braved my first step into camp, ready to accept my affliction for whatever it might be. One eye blinked open and I was partly pleased to find that Link was nowhere to be found, the other half of my brain was diligently being ignored. My pack plopped to the ground next to Link's as I began to sort my newly found spices. Glancing over my shoulder, I noticed the pot from the breakfast had been cleaned and it made me take another look around; the whole camp seemed neat and tidy, "Link must've straightened up while I was doing my chores."

I let out another sigh, that whole guilt thing sinking into my stomach like a rock, "He shouldn't be doing anything at all," I scolded under my breath, "if he hurts his shoulder again or reopens his wounds, it'll be because I wasn't here to chase him away from working." I shook my head maternally, "That guy...is a real pain."

"I'm a real what?"

Suddenly, I found myself up off the ground and a thirty paces out in the woods, scowling into the camp from behind the protective trunk of a tree.

Link just laughed.

"What was that for?! You nearly scared the life out of me!"

"Maybe you should pay closer attention, then, not my fault you didn't hear me come up." He teased, tossing a roll of leather on the ground near the fire.

Romping back through the brush, I glanced down at the parcel in the dirt, "What's that?"

"It's just a few things," he answered quickly, turning toward his pack and taking a seat on his furs, "I was feeling a bit useless today, so I thought I'd take some of the burden off your hands."

I stopped plucking the leaves from my hair and raised a brow, feeling the heat return to my cheeks and ears, and replied mechanically, "I thought we'd agreed to share the chores. You didn't have to do anything extra."

"I know I didn't, but as I said, I thought I could help out. Plus," he said, unraveling the bound leather, "dinner's going to be delicious."

Nervously, I simply nodded and turned to put away the spices I'd bottled, but before I got the chance, they caught Link's eye and he snatched a pair of the jars from my hands, "These look like tingroot and graperoot, and good ones at that. Where did you pick these up?" He asked, holding the glass up to the light, giving me a sidelong glance with a sly smile on his face.

My face flushed at a moment's notice, which it seemed to be doing a lot of these days, and I dropped to my furs, babbling incoherently, "W-Well, I found them over...there, out in a glade over the bridge to a creek–"

"But you used the guide, didn't you?"

I knew I was caught, he knew I was actually following direction, so denying it seemed futile. Instead, I went my other, snide, route and crossed my arms, turning my shoulder to him with an acidic snap, "Duh. Do you think I'm a fool? You obviously know more about this rubbish than I do, so why would I risk making another mistake that'd only push us further back?"

Pleased with myself, I glanced up, unprepared to read something in Link's face I couldn't quite place. It looked like a mixture between wryness and amusement, like a cat who'd just gotten away with the canary. Any minute now, I expected an overly enthusiastic 'I-told-you-so'.

My face soured and I uncrossed my arms, leaning back onto my bedroll and changing the subject, "So, you said something about supper? When can I expect that?"

"Soon enough," he chuckled, laying out a cheesecloth in his lap, "it might take a bit longer than expected, only because cooking with one hand has proven to be a challenge for me in the past."

Without fail, like the many times before, I winced and recoiled from the ever shrinking feeling of guilt as I offered to help, "I think I've got it covered this time. You'd be doing yourself a favor by looking over the guide, if you haven't taken a gander once already." He glanced up from his work through his eyelashes, flashing a playful, teasing smile.

There was the 'I told you so'.

I gulped and quickly averted my eyes, wearing some mixture of embarrassment and annoyance on my permanently rosy face. With some obstinance, I reached for my pack and rooted around for the guide, keeping my attention busy somewhere else. Although I was back to having a perpetually red complexion, something about this closeness was nice, and slowly the nervous sweats seemed to be quelled for the time being. While I rummaged around for the book, Link piped up, "Call me mad, but it seemed like you weren't feeling very well today..."

I stopped dead in my tracks, the journal already in my hand, but in my stupor it slipped from my fingers, back into the pack.

He chuckled, "Well, did I hit the nail on the head? You can't tell me you haven't been acting strange." Setting his project to the side, he leaned forward and reached out his hand to one side of the fire, "Let me feel your forehead."

So much for the nervous sweats being quelled.

"Link, I'm fine. I-It's other...things. Lady things. You wouldn't understand."

"You'd be surprised," he chuckled, "I've been to a lot of places, and seen a lot of things, so your 'lady things' are low on my list, now come closer so I can check your temperature."

He seemed to be misunderstanding what it was I was trying to get across.

That sensation of being torn in two directions was alive and well, wreaking havoc on my insides to the point where I feared I might vomit. Finally, though, against my better judgment, I slowly leaned forward on my hands and knees. My eyes were shut tight and my joints buckled as furiously as a newborn graydeer's, threatening to bowl me over, hopefully into the fire.

Carefully, I felt his rough fingers dip beneath my bangs and his calloused palm press against my damp skin. Suddenly I felt much more self conscious; I hadn't bathed today, I'd taken a quick dive into the river then let myself dry, and then I rolled around in the dirt all day. I swallowed and hoped I didn't smell as bad as I assumed I did. My breathing had picked up, and needless to say, I was mere seconds away from a full blown panic attack as Link's hand felt like it was against me for much too long. When I had the common sense to open my eyes, I saw Link's expression a bit screwed up in concentration, his face turned down and away, his brow furrowed and eyes tightly closed. It almost looked like he was trying to draw the sickness out of me.

Finally, but almost too quickly, he pulled away, "Well, you don't seem to have a fever, but that doesn't change the fact. Be honest with me, is it your stomach? Want me to take a look?"

"I most certainly do not!" I shouted, leaping back, clenching my fist protectively to my chest in sputtering shock.

Link snorted lightly, shaking his head, "Sometimes, you're ridiculous, Ilia. It was only a joke."

My eyes narrowed and I squinted hard at Link, my expression saying 'I don't believe you'.

He simply grinned, "In all seriousness, though, what's going on with you? Since last night, you've been a bumbling mess. It's unlike you," he grabbed up the cheesecloth full of vegetables and pulled a jar of oil from his pack, "so, what's going on?"

A bit caught off guard, and annoyed that he hadn't dropped the subject, I realized as soon as it left my lips just how quickly I spat my sharp retort, "It's none of your business, Link."

"You might think so," he began, tossing the ingredients into the pot and they hissed against the hot steel surface, "but every move you make, Ilia, is my business." His voice seemed a bit tempered toward the end, but promptly cooled, his attention focused on his cooking. "Your father put me in charge of getting you to Castle Town safely," he continued, "and while I can allow a certain amount of privacy, most everything else is privy to me. And believe it or not, I do care about how you feel."

My ears perked up.

Link chuckled when he saw my reaction, and he exaggerated, "Yes, Ilia, 'I care about you'."

I swallowed the bundle of nerves for the dozenth time, maybe the slightest bit flustered that he'd caught me acting like an excitable school girl. For a moment, the idea of letting slip the facts, for as terrifying as it might be, actually crossed my mind. In a bit of a tizzy, my gaze shifted from my lap to Link, who contrarily, calmly cooked away, with neigh a drop of sweat on him. I could feel as my lips involuntarily parted the slightest bit, almost as though right then and there, the truth would fly from my throat like a caged bird freshly free from its wire prison, and the air would burst with bubbled hearts and apple blossoms.

That is, until he continued, "It's my responsibility, after all."

And in simply an instant, my daydream was dashed. My mouth fell into a crooked line and one brow bounced incredulously up onto my forehead, hiding beneath my rather dirty bangs. Link's statement in addition to his calm and collected mannerisms made me wonder if it was just me who was struggling with these disgusting symptoms. The thought obviously hadn't hit me until just then, and when I'd gathered the wherewithal to actually put the pieces together, I could've slapped myself. I hadn't ever experienced rejection and it suddenly made the threat all too real. Through judgmental eyes, I watched his careful movements for a solid minute before finally, he uttered, "...Ilia?"

I blinked once and I was brought back to reality, "Y-Yes?"

"You were about to tell me what's been going on with you, then you started glaring holes through me." He stated simply, eyes cast down into the pan.

My lips fell ajar again, as though I had the gall to really confide in him what had been going on. If only he knew the pain I was suffering through just being near him, he wouldn't be asking such trivial questions. If only I knew what was going on in my own head, Icould just fess up, making life a lot easier for me.

If only it were that simple.

After what felt like ages, I spat out a half baked answer, "I've just been...distracted."
"Distracted." He repeated flatly, the incredulity thick in his voice.

"Yes, distracted." I replied, my response seemingly empty in tone, nothing to hide.

Just from a glance, I could tell he felt I wasn't being entirely forthcoming with him, and my attention fell to the guide, as I nonchalantly leafed through it to further evade his judgmental eyes.

"Well," he finally said, pushing the sizzling vegetables around with a wooden spoon, "I can't force you to tell me, but I can tell when you're lying."

"You sound just like my father..." I retorted, only half joking.

Not to my surprise, Link simply chuckled at my nastiness and rummaged around in the leather package, retrieving a rather large fish, and quickly brought us back on track, "I suppose it doesn't matter, seeing as I have a pretty good idea as to what's really happening."

For the third time today, I stopped dead and craned my neck around to inspect Link, who was casually flaying the fish and pulling out its bones. How could he be so callous?

I felt a sudden sort of paranoia digging at me, and it was me this time who pushed the topic, suddenly desperate to know more, "...You...You what?"
"I mean, make no mistake, I can never know for sure, but let's face it, this is your first time being alone with me for so long, and in even broader strokes, it's your first time being alone for so long with a man. Anyone could see why that would make you feel a little uneasy." Again, his actions were so collected as he handled the fish, tossing gobbets into the sizzling pan, breezing over the subject like it was nothing. Did he really think he knew what was going on with me? As if he was a doctor with my rare diagnosis, I stared intently at him, my gaze boring holes and prodding him for more information, my expression practically begging him to give me any out, any answer would suffice as long as it wasn't mine! Anything!

"So, either way, I made you this," he finished in a dismissive tone, dishing a serving for me and offering up the bowl. I sat up straight and cautiously accepted it, looking down at the perfectly seared pinkish fish, potatoes, and what looked like some kind of squash, "What...is it?" I asked, more out of desperation for words than out of curiosity.

"The fish is Pinkfin, it's supposed to help with anxiety, it's over rice and those are potatoes, river squash, and carrots. Some of the herbs you collected today are in there," he dished his own bowl, glancing up at me with a cocked brow, "and a couple of them are supposed to be relaxing. Gods know you need it, right?" He joked, popping a carrot into his mouth.

I couldn't believe how dispassionately he was handling the whole situation, considering my heart had been in my throat the entire day, and I'd been fighting back to urge to spill it in front of him, and here he was, what with his settled stomach and appetite, simply eating when if I merely thought of food, I might lose it.

"Did...Did you catch this fish just for me?" I asked aloud before my brain could shut my mouth up, the dish still resting in both of my hands, "You made this whole meal for me? Because I was...because you thought I was acting strange?" The disbelief in my voice was apparent, and entirely masked any residual fear I had of the truth behind my strangeness.

With a bite halfway to his mouth, he stopped and tossed it back into his bowl, smiling and lowering his dinner to his furs, "Of course. Well, it's more like I thought you could stand to mellow out. Like I said before, when I noticed something going on with you, I just assumed it was because you're spending a lot of time with me, and I know I'm not your favorite person."

For a second, I opened my mouth to argue, but it immediately seemed fruitless, considering how poorly my attitude had portrayed my true feelings. My lips snapped shut and I let him continue unabated.

"Being who you are, Ilia, you like your privacy. I've always known that, and I also know that you don't get much of it out here, what with my prying and teasing." He smiled, and pushed his fingers through his messy hair, "I guess what I'm saying is, I get it. I get that being around me is probably the last place you want to be right now, and that's fine, I just want you to be comfortable learning from me, because I do have a lot to teach that could actually help you."

He looked up from his crossed legs and his eyes met mine, seemingly tearing into me, "I meant what I said. I do care about how you feel," he grinned, "I'm not totally heartless."

I waited for the inevitable slap in the face, the 'wake-up-Ilia-you've-been-asleep-all-day' shake, but nothing came.

No slap. No shake. Nothing.

He just picked his bowl back up and started eating again. My own supper remained in my hands for a while and my gaze remained fixed on him as he ate, but he didn't look up once.

Something, somewhere deep inside me, moved me, maybe it was what he said, maybe it was how he said it, but the chords he struck with me were powerful, and it made my heart feel...lighter. It was like a little piece of home found its way back to me, and I could cherish it while I was away. The familiarity was palpable, and I was just happy to have it.

Slowly, I set my bowl quietly on the ground and got to my feet, encircling the fire and slowly shifting to my knees beside Link, his face turning toward me in surprise, "Ilia–?" He began, and again, before my head had the chance to stop my mouth, to stop my heart, to convince me that I was better than this, stronger than this, what have you, I crammed in as many words as possible, holding up one hand to cease the questions, lest I begin to think better of my decision.

"Before I lose my gumption, I just need...to say something."

Drawing in a deep and unsteady breath, I let it loose, sitting quiet for a moment when I heard Link's position shift, his supper set down and his attention turned toward me.

My eyes drew in the state of him, what my ignorance had done to the oh-so-selfless Link; an injured arm, dislocated shoulder, countless hours of hassle over me. The guilt I'd been feeling so strongly was slowly being replaced. With what, I couldn't sure just yet, but it tasted much less bitter than the mind-numbing guilt and uncertainty I'd been feeling for too long.

I gulped, and cautiously began.

"All this time," I opened, readying my next words carefully, "our whole childhood, I'd convinced myself that you were much worse than people held you up to be, always talking about how resourceful and brave you were, even as children."

I dared meet his gaze for an instant, only to find it transfixed on me with a look of intent confusion, but apt attention. I swallowed hard. He needed to hear this. He needed to know that the dots were finally connected in my head, maybe not all of them, but enough of them to show I'd been listening.

I continued, more confident now, "But really, you were–are all of those things. You pay attention and actually try to see things from someone else's point of view. I-I know that...I lack a lot of those traits, and that's alright, because I am willing to learn, if you're...willing to teach."

The instant I finished, my gaze shot to the ground but my expression remained surprisingly cool. Toward the end, I lost a bit traction, my footing slipped only a tad, and I couldn't see the look on his face by this point in the conversation, but if I could, it'd surely be disoriented beyond all recognition, and I went on before he tried to speak, "For all the times that I've been...less than friendly, mean even, that I haven't listened, that I've lashed out for no reason, I'm sorry." The first bit I rattled off flawlessly, seeing as 'sorry' had been a big part of my vocabulary recently, but as my passion began to slip, I quickly wrapped up, "I guess–No, it is because I'm...jealous." My face remained southward, thumbs fiddling, and I gave him a chance to process everything I'd just thrown his way. Honestly, it just felt incredible getting it out on the table and suddenly having a reason for my ailment that'd been afflicting me these past two days, and I appreciated the opportunity when it was presented.

The whole situation, my leaving Ordon, being alone with Link, away from my father, it had all just began to take its toll on me, and when I finally had my release, it was like I was being deflated.

I couldn't have been more thankful for it, either.

When he finally spoke, he simply chuckled, "Jealous? Of what?"

"Of all the things that you can do, of how you handle people, just...of you." I answered a little too quickly, this time my eyes were able to meet his, "That aside, though, I mostly wanted to-to thank you."

Now the real bewilderment came into play, his eyebrows raising and his body physically leaning back and away, almost like he was wondering who'd kidnapped me and replaced me with a nicer, exact duplicate, "I-I know I'm not usually one to say this kind of thing, but don't rub it in..." I closed my eyes, and finished, "Thank you, Link, really, for taking the time to think about me. This whole day has just been...so off kilter. I wouldn't even know where to start if you'd asked me to."
He waved his hand dismissively, "I won't, believe me, but I do understand. This isn't easy, and you're learning something new everyday, and doing a damn good job of it."

The concept of humility was fairly foreign to me, so when I felt my face heat up, it threw me for a bit of a loop, although I rebounded seamlessly and quietly nodded, "Thank you, Link."

Lastly, and again, without thinking too much into it, I threw my arms around his neck and embraced him. It was a long, awkward, but thankful hug, all for giving me freedom from my sickness and for the wherewithal to deal with it, however I may. Even with my face buried between my own shoulder and his neck, I still, through this close proximity, kept my muster, not once losing my composure, not once perspiring to unbeknownst reasons. The overwhelming heat that seemed to run through my blood had quelled and I felt normal again, maybe even a dash better. I had this new sense of controlled pride and confidence that I didn't have before, and no one had to yell at me to get me to finally grasp it. I did it all on my own.

When I pulled away, my hands fell loosely to my sides and I snorted a bit at Link's expression, contorted in hysterical befuddlement, "What's that face for?" I covered my mouth to stifle the laughter, getting back on my feet.

Quickly, he shook his head and inquired with a bite of disbelief in his voice, "Just...I'm not really all that sure what just happened. I thought I had it all figured out!" He joked, turning toward the fire as I looped back around to my own bed.

"Don't look too much into it, I am thankful, but don't get a big head about it."

"Wouldn't dream of it."

For the first time in what felt like ages, we had a quiet, mutual meal together, no secret, unregistered desires, no uncomfortable arguments lingering in the air, just two people, eating supper.

I think it was the best meal I'd ever had.

XxXxX

As the night wore on, nary a word was shared between us, the evening continued on track in a calm, unassuming fashion. After being tense for most of the day, childish ideas running rampant through my head, it was a blessing to feel so relaxed since I realized I'd been over thinking my strange symptoms. I finally had a diagnosis, and Link seemed happy with the conclusion, as well, considering I hadn't been taught a lesson or reminded of work I should be doing all evening. Realizing that I was simply in need of adjusting to my situation made dealing with the ailment so much easier. Today worked out so greatly that I would've felt a little like celebrating if my eyelids weren't so tiredly drooping from the pinkfin dinner. Its mellow effects were definitely kicking in.

Sleepily, I milled around the camp site readying myself for bed, when the before-bed nature began to call. It didn't even occur to me to shy away from heading through the dense brush toward the river and squatting down to pee, my long tunic pulled high up over my thighs. With my elbows resting on my knees and my head propped up on my wrists, my drowsy brain listlessly mulled over things I missed about home I didn't know I had until they were gone, like how much I wanted a tall glass of wine, how I couldn't wait to sleep in a real bed with clean sheets and a fluffy pillow, and how good it would feel to get a nice, hot bath drawn in a real claw footed, copper slipper tub.

My excitement caused a little shutter to dance happily on my shoulders.

I was actually beginning to miss home quite a bit, but knew I'd soon be in an even better place, in the comfort of a rich man's enormous pile of money. I grinned stupidly to myself.

Everything was right with the world.

But like all good things, they never last.

Even with the release of all my pent up uneasiness at totally imaginary feelings, nothing could have prepared my poor psyche for what happened next.

In one fluid motion, transpiring in only a few seconds, there was a rustling in the bushes to my right. My eyes shot wide open, my head lifted away from my palms, and my attention whipped to the source of the noise, lips parted, ready to scream in protest, to claim 'occupied', to do anything, but to no avail.

Not a sound.

Link popped his head casually up over the long grass, "Hey, Ilia, I—Oh! Sorry, come find me when you're finished."

And like it was nothing, he sauntered off back to camp.

Slowly, all of the blood in my body began to boil, rising from my toes until it filled every ounce of pigment in my skin. My eyes wide and head hot with shock and irritation and embarrassment, my teeth gritted, and with every ounce of gumption I could muster, I screamed, "Link, you damn pervert!"

I'm not entirely sure of it, but I would swear I heard him laughing.