I’m running through darkness. Going nowhere, staying nowhere. I don’t know who or what I’m running from, all I know is that I’m running far, far, away. Trying to hide because he told me to.

I stop in my tracks, shaky and unsure of what’s happening. All that surrounds me is the black abyss, and I turn in all directions. How did I end up here? What is happening?

A disturbing laugh replays in my head over and over, mocking my every move. It gets louder, and then I realize that it isn’t in my head. I spin around, looking over my shoulders before sidestepping and repeating the process. The chuckles become louder, breathier, finding my attempts to find it amusing. Abruptly, a spot in front of me illuminates. In it stands two men—well, one man. The other one is on the ground coughing and wheezing. I squint to see more clearly, before realizing...

It’s Link at the hands of Ghirahim.

The same laugh travels through my ears, but this time it comes from the Demon Lord’s pale lips. He snaps his fingers, and that same accursed black long sword appears in his grip. Link’s body is bathed in cold sweat and blood smears, his tunic torn and scratches are all over his body. He has multiple bruises swimming across the gashes, all of which trickle blood.

What I’m seeing is like a stage play—a sick stage play.

Link coughs again with his head down, and I see blood splatter the ground below his drooping shoulders.

“Link!” I scream, but they can’t hear me. Ghirahim grabs Link by the scruff of the neck and pulls him off the floor to meet his level; and Link’s head lolls back limply, but the familiar courageous fire burns bright in his eyes as he glares at Ghirahim.

Ghirahim sneers and brings Link’s head up again, then harshly drops him on the ground. His body just sags like an overused cloth, and he is wracked with more coughs. I hear the familiar splat, splat as blood spatters the ground.

The Demon Lord’s sneer disappears, and he raises his sword with both hands.

“Link, please get up! Fight back! Link!” I scream desperately, but he just lays there. I try running, but no matter how fast I move towards them, I never get any closer than when I began.

Sluggishly, he gets up onto his knees, but looks like just a touch could knock him over. His hand grabs for the Master Sword at his side, and the metal scratches the ground as he pulls it beside him. Before he can comprehend it, Ghirahim thrusts the long sword downward straight through Link’s abdomen. He looks up in surprise, his ocean eyes wide in pain. He coughs and blood streams from his mouth, and looks down in surprise at the sword protruding from his chest. He collapses on his front in a pool of crimson.

All that is heard is my deafening scream, echoing through the nothingness.

“Neri! Neri!”

My eyes snap open, and I take a deep breath like never before. Link is shaking me, his eyes full of worry. I see his mouth moving, saying my name—Neri, Neri—but I don’t hear it.

All I need to know is that Link’s alive. He doesn’t have a sword through him. I sit up with all the strength in my stomach and wrap my arms around his neck, willing myself not to bawl. Link isn’t dead, and he won’t be anytime soon. He couldn’t possibly be killed by someone as weak as Ghirahim. It’s impossible, completely impossible.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” His arms wrap around my back, and even through his leather gauntlets I can feel the warmth from his hands. Gasping, I try to get it out; though I probably sound like a dying seal.

“Gh-Ghirahim k-killed you,” I murmur, and my hands ball up the thick fabric of his tunic. All the blood, and all the torture... The image is on replay in my mind and there’s no pause button.

Link whispers in my ear, “It was just a bad dream, everything is fine.” Just like my Mom used to say. “It wasn’t real.” Rubbing my back, he lets go to give me a reassuring smile, but it falters and disappears.

“What?” I sniffle.

“Your face...” Link whispers.

Before I slap him for saying that to a lady, everything comes back to me. Ghirahim attacked me last night, resulting in six gashes across my whole frame. Especially the noticeable ones on my cheek and forehead.

He turns around to a sleepy Midna, and he shakes her shoulder. Her big red eyes open, and she mumbles something incoherent. Her half asleep gaze rests on me, and then her eyes open completely.

“Neri...?” she asks, and sits up. Why is it that something always happens that makes everyone worry about me? Seriously, in my world, if anything I was stressing about others because I was one of the tougher ones, even if I was only 5’3”. Sure seems ironic.

Midna materializes the small first aid kit, and Link takes out a small bottle with...water, I think, and a small cloth, and then he covers the top of the water bottle with the cloth and briefly turns it upside-down. Without a second thought, he unzips my hoodie and pulls down the left side.

“Hey!” I warn, and grab for my hoodie. Link gives me a cold stare, but I return all of his spite. How did he even know I was cut across my shoulder? When my gaze scans over myself, I notice that the blood from all my cuts has soaked through the fabric, making the locations of all lacerations evident.

Link ignores me and pulls my hoodie down again. As soon as he touches the damp cloth to my cut, it burns. I flinch and wrench my arm from his loose grip, and he lets me get away for once.

“Neri, please let me clean it,” Link says hollowly, trying to keep the frustration out of his voice. When I hear that tone come from his lips, I freeze. I didn’t think that someone as cheery as him had a dark side. Now that I’ve seen this side of him, I feel ashamed. I can’t believe my own weakness and how much I’m hindering him. He must be upset because I’m holding them back—yeah, that’s it.

I know what he’s thinking—how did she get hurt again?—I’m wondering the same thing.

“What happened?” Midna speaks up.

I sigh. Should I lie and say that I fell in a rosebush or something? As if a few thorns could tear through flesh so deeply and smoothly. They need to know.

Hesitating, I try to decide how to start before I put it bluntly. “Ghirahim attacked me last night when I went to the spring.” Midna looks astonished but understands, unlike Link who wasn’t awake at the time. “Last night when Midna was on watch, I went to take a bath in the spring we passed yesterday. He was there and then just...attacked me.” I shrug like it’s no big deal, because it really isn’t. I’m not going to die from blood loss.

“Why didn’t you wake me up?” Link tries to say harshly, but can’t seem to have a serious negative tone with me.

“Even if I wanted to, I wouldn’t be able.” Link sleeps a hibernating bear—that cares more about breakfast on the table than my life, apparently. Giving my arm back to him, he finishes cleaning. It burns like hell, and I squeeze my eyes shut and clench my jaw. It’s like a potion for cuts, like hydrogen peroxide or some antibiotic—but he probably doesn’t know what that is.

His eyes dart back and forth looking at the areas where the blood has leaked through my jeans and hoodie. Link goes from my shoulder to my cheek, the long gash running from my left temple to the corner of my mouth.

When Link reaches up to brush away some brown hair from my face to gently dab at my forehead, my cheeks heat up. The cloth comes into contact, and I flinch at the burning again. Link stops, and then carefully resumes dabbing the cut on my face. I try my hardest to keep my heart rate in check as his hand presses against my cheek. I gasp when the cold liquid burns the slit on my temple, but he continues; going from my temple and slowly tracing back to my cheek. Clenching my eyes shut, I count to ten to distract myself.

The burns ceases to fade, and I cringe at the stubborn stinging ache that refuses to leave me. After Link pulls the red-tinged cloth away from my cheek, his warm hand cups my cheek. My eyes slowly open to meet his, and he flashes me a small smile. I feel a pink blush dust my cheeks, and I wouldn’t be surprised if the rip on my cheek gushed blood again. His thumb rubs back and forth reassuringly, and I don’t want it to leave anytime soon.

“You lllllike each other!” Midna mocks, rolling the R. Link drops his hand to scowl at her as my face heats up and, once again, becomes a bright red tomato.

“Mistress Neri, a report.” I turn to Fi, who has magically just decided to pop up. “I calculate an 87% chance of compatibility between you and Master Link.”

Midna bursts out laughing, and falls over. Even Fi is mocking us?! My hands clench and get a cold sweat while my heart hammers in my chest from embarrassment. They have it all wrong, I swear.

“Fi!” I shriek shrilly. She looks sort of taken aback—as much as Fi can look taken aback, I guess.

“Wow, I think I’m beginning to like you, Sword Robot!” Midna exclaims through huffs of laughter.

“My name is Fi,” she informs her.

Link clears his throat to quiet us down and we all turn to him, red-faced from laughter or humiliation. “Just to let you all know, today we will be reaching Castle Town. We’ll arrive late so we’ll have to stay in an inn, but tomorrow morning we can see Princess Zelda.”

No way. I get to meet Princess Zelda? I completely forgot! This is amazing! I’ll have to comb my hair (which isn’t too hard, considering that it’s only about two or three inches past my chin) and wash my clothes. I’ll take a bath when we get to the inn, and freshen up. Ah, but what about my cuts? I hope they heal in time! Maybe I could snag another potion to speed it up—

“Neri?”

I snap out of it, only to see Midna a centimeter from my face. Shrieking, I fall back and try to catch my breath.

“You zone out a lot,” she says disapprovingly.

Link clears his throat again. “Neri, let me show you something.” He holds out his hand and I take it so he can bring me to my feet. He points to somewhere along the horizon, and I try to follow wherever his finger is pointing. I lean a bit closer to him to see better, then I begin to make out what he was trying to show me. A tall shadow; a silhouette of a castle in the distance, surrounded by smaller lumps and bumps, the houses and shops. I gasp—it’s so majestic.

When I peel my gaze from Castle Town against the sunrise, I realize my cheek is pretty much touching Link’s. I try to stay calm and cool, and just move away like nothing happened. He just turns and gives me a full smile, one that I haven’t seen before, but like. My cheeks heat up all over again, and I try to avert my eyes.

“That’s amazing. Is that tall shadow really Hyrule Castle?” I wonder.

He straightens out his gauntlets, and says, “Uh huh. And that’s where we’ll be tonight.”

Wow, I can’t wait to sleep on a bed again and have a proper bath. Ghirahim interrupted my last one, but I never found the time to slap him.

“Mistress, I calculate an 80% chance that we will arrive an hour before midnight if we can avoid disturbances,” Fi chirps.

“Thanks Fi,” I say monotonously.

So we get going. We pack up our blankets, and begin for the millionth time. During the beginning of the trip, Link asks if I can play some music. I quickly oblige, taking out the little device and my standard white headphones wrapped around it. I plug them in before handing one bud to Link and taking one for myself, then hit the shuffle button and tuck it in my pocket.

While we are walking, Link stays silent listening to my music. It’s kind of comical to see him with an iPod and headphones. Midna gets bored of the silence after being left out, so she asks about the movies that I’ve talked about before. I ask her what interests her, and she replies with, “Anything I can relate to.” I tell her about the Disney fairy tales, which match her ‘princess in distress’ predicament, and she says that she wants me to tell her one. I hand my iPod off to Link, and I tell Midna a story she may enjoy:

Tarzan.

The whole time Link can’t hear us, or doesn’t care. I tell her about the ship with Tarzan’s parents lighting on fire, and how they landed on a remote island. How his parents were killed by a leopard, and Tarzan was raised by apes. When Jane came to the island with her father and Clayton from Britain, to study apes. Tarzan ends up saving her from baboons, and they start to fall in love. She tells him about 19th century Great Britain, and he learns English. Jane’s father is convinced that he’s the ‘Missing Link’, but Clayton has something else in mind. Then Tarzan tries to show them apes, aka his family; but all of the evil men hired by Clayton slaughter the animals. They take Jane and her father captive, but Tarzan saves the day and Clayton accidentally kills himself when he is hung by vines. Jane decides to abandon Britain and stay on the island, where they live happily ever after.

“Wow, that was amazing! Tarzan is so heroic!” Midna exclaims. I chuckle, content that she liked it. “Is Tarzan real? I mean, did it happen in reality?”

I don’t want to extinguish her hopes, so I decide that a little white lie can’t hurt. I shrug and reply, “You never know.” She pouts because she doesn’t know the real answer, and I pat her back.

Chatting about stories really made the time fly past, but I can only tell because the sun has set. My legs don’t feel as exhausted, but that could be because I’ve grown accustomed to all the walking or because I was distracted by Tarzan and Jane. It’s almost pitch black outside, but luckily Link has a lantern. I just follow his shadow in the dark.

“Neri, Midna.” Link takes out my headphones and points ahead. “Here we are.”

The large wooden bridge in front of us stretches all the way to a large stone corridor; and between the bare streaks of light coming from the doors I can see the shadows of townspeople bustling.

I run ahead, not caring if Link and Midna aren’t behind me. Sprinting to the doors, I push with all my might to crack them open wide enough for me to squish past.

“Neri!” Link yells from behind me, but it doesn’t slow me down. All the people in front of me make my mouth open in surprise.

There are people selling goods and others buying them, and I can see blacksmiths and women embroidering clothes. I blacksmith smacks down his mallet against a breastplate, sending sparks flying astray before he does it again. A small boy walks around with stacks of clay plates he plans to sell, and almost trips over a little dog fetching a stick that was thrown to him. The dog bites the stick and sloshes through the fountain, the centerpiece of the market. I could do my history paper on this—it was assigned as homework, but I don’t think it counts when it was assigned it another world.

“Neri, don’t run away or I won’t be able to find you,” Link claims from beside me now that he has managed to catch up.

“Whoa,” I whisper, and continue gazing at the medieval town.

“Amazing, isn’t it?” he whispers back, and I nod. “I guess that when you see it so often, you forget to appreciate it.” I nod feebly again. Link grabs my arm and leads me through the crowds like I’m a rag doll, and before I know it, we’re at an inn.

Link books us a room, but sadly only has enough rupees for one. When we walk inside, it is rather...homey.

There is a twin bed with thick sheets in the middle of the room against the northern wall, and a fireplace on the opposite wall. There’s a small table perched beside the bed with an oil lamp, creating a nice yellow glow. A couch stands at an angle close to the mantle, with a wool blanket draped across it. A small adjoining bathroom is through a door next to the bed. The couch is small, maybe the size of a love seat.

I immediately crash onto the bed, and Link takes his shield and sheath off his back. He grabs a blanket off the edge of the bed, and walks to the loveseat with a yawn.

Wait, is he planning on taking the couch? That’s unfair. The bed’s bigger, and I’m a small person—it’s only fair he gets the bed. Maybe I shouldn’t have taken what was closest to me.

“Link, I’ll take the couch,” I offer, but he collapses on it face first and his muffled voice replies,

“I’m not making a girl sleep on the couch.” I know he’s sleepy, but that is seriously inequitable.

“Take the bed. You’re bigger than me,” I argue.

“I formally refuse,” he responds. I roll my eyes at his stubbornness. Alright, if he wants to sleep on a couch that’s so small that his legs hang off, he can just knock himself out. I’ll take the bed.

Midna has already fallen asleep on spot by the fireplace, somehow; rolled up in the scratchy wool blanket that was draped on the couch. I kick off my shoes and throw off the thin comforter, rolling over and covering myself with the blanket. I fidget and roll again, then try scooting to my right—but can’t find a comfy position. Link is probably already asleep, so I dim the oil lamp on the end table.

Closing my eyes, I just lay there for half an hour without batting an eye. This is absolutely outrageous. I’m so tired, but can’t fall asleep. Squirming doesn’t help, so I whisper, “Link, are you awake?”

He grumbles and then whispers, “Yeah. Why, can’t you fall asleep?”

I really don’t know how to respond, but then I get an idea. What can I say? I learned how to manipulate at a young age.

“The bed’s uncomfortable. I think the couch would be better,” I try to sound convincing. Really, I have good intentions. He deserves the bed more than I do in every way.

I hear him groan, but then he rolls over, tangled in his blanket. Getting up leisurely, he rubs his eyes and walks to the bed. Rolling off, my eyes start drooping as I get to the couch. I collapse much like he did, neglecting the blanket he dropped and smack onto the straw-stuffed cushions. My eyes start to shut, thank goodness.

But before I can fall asleep, I whisper, “I’m sorry for angering you this morning and not waking you up immediately last night. I know I’m a hindrance—and I’m sorry for that.”

Link’s reply is barely audible. “I wasn’t angry at you. I was angry at myself for being unable to protect you. I swore to myself I wouldn’t let people close to me be hurt, but lately I’ve had a streak of breaking that habit.”

Maybe it’s because it’s late and I’m a little touchy, but I say, “You don’t have to protect me. I don’t want to walk around knowing that I need to be protected.”

“Sorry—that was the wrong choice of words.”

“No, I’m sorry. That just slipped out, and I didn’t really mean it. I shouldn’t have said that. I don’t know what came over me.”

“I understand.”

There’s an uncomfortable silence for a few minutes, and I wonder if we actually got into an argument for a second.

“Goodnight, Neri,” Link whispers from the bed after a while.

I smile a little when I realize that we didn’t fight—we’re okay.

“That’s not my name,” I whisper back, “My name is Erin.”