The king - dark-haired, brown eyed, tall and fit - was away a lot.

It was a necessity, she had called it, for the kingdom. To be Queen, they said. To have a husband, to have an heir. And so she did it.

There had been a wedding. She knew not how else to elaborate upon it.

And night after night before it all happened she had sat with Sheik and discussed it, the pros the cons, how her life would forever change.

She did not want to lose the normalcy. She did not want to lose the very people who made her remember. But she was quiet about this, and the one she so wished would come rescue her did not. For it was a different kind of danger, one not written about in history books, one not prophesied.

Not one for a hero.

He had been younger this time than herself. Something happened between the past lives and the next. She had kept going and he lost a few years in between. Not intentional, she would promise you. Something about messing with time travel and all its consequences. Well.. what was a young princess to do?

There was that time in the courtyard when they met again as children. She had hoped it would have went the same, but different. No evil kings this time around or the like, but destiny? What about that?

Honesty was always a trait she coveted. However, she never told anyone she rewound more than once. She rewound selfishly. The first time, he had went away to a far off land, never to be seen or heard of again. This time she made sure he'd never leave. She felt guilty, of course, for it was not just their lives she rewound but all the lives connected with it. Poor Sheik seemed to be doomed to live beside her, for his servitude and promise the first time around traversed time and space and everything in between.

But he never knew. Not really.

It wasn't so much an obsession as it was a fascination with the life she had before. The comfort of familiarity, the two who seemed to appear with her through many different lifetimes.

And this time she had hoped..

Well, the king was not him.

He was not it nor whom nor anyone or anything she would have liked. But this was it. At least she had the two by her side.

She learned that he would play but never stay.

Link, that is.

Not the king. Unfortunately they are two separate people entirely.

They were not meant to be together, and she wondered through many lives at the preposterousness of her fate. The hero and the princess and the Sheikah. The love triangle that never was. And she despised him for it, adored him for it. Loved him, hated him. Wanted him gone, wanted him around. Couldn't live life without him. The problem, the answer. The muse, the distraction. Her friend, her enemy. Sheik.

Red-eyed and everything she was not. And she was everything he was not. But that was never enough.

But she loved him. Loved them. Loved them both. Wanted Link, wanted Sheik gone. Wanted Sheik to be by her side, hated Link and wanted him gone. It seemed like the two were inseparable through whatever lifetime she concocted and no matter what the situation the goddesses were laughing at her.

But enough of that.

As the sweetened wine entered her mouth and down her throat, she took a deep sigh. She glanced at herself in the mirror, older than before in a nightrobe of ivory silk, placed a hand to her face, irises quivering. It had taken a toll on her, she could see it. That nostalgic glimmer of hope sparkled in her eyes, and she said 'yes', to herself. 'Yes, I will do this..

one last time.'

Dawn was beautiful, bright blues and misty whites. The night fading away, the air chilled from the absence of light. He did not know how he could still enjoy the little things, but he tried to. Made a point of it. Being her protector, as she called it, left much to be desired. He wasn't exactly sure what these things were that he desired, but he knew that they were there. Inside somewhere, those little emotions he would encounter internally that swelled every now and again made him remember that he was alive even though he did not feel very much like he was.

He sat lazily but still as gracefully as ever atop the ornate perimeter fence, near the gazebo and the pond and the ornamentation that littered the castle garden's interior. One leg balanced atop this, the other dangling over its side, swinging lightly back and forth as if there were water beneath him his toes could be skimming its surface. And his eyes closed and he lifted his head, breathed in deeply through his nose and he just stayed that way.

He could sense the fair-haired knight coming. Could smell him, the forest aphrodisiac. Could hear him, the tannish boots and their expensive soles traversing the slightly dampened earth. There were all these subtle nuances that he had picked up on right away upon meeting Link, although the odd familiarity of them broke even his sense of logic.

Link came beside him saying nothing at all, simply leaned against the fence forward-facing, casually, his left elbow placed on the top railing and his chin laid atop his fist. Leaned in and gazed outward, thick lashes blinking softly, wheels in his head turning. There was a breeze through the leaves, early birds chirping amongst the branches. The chimes hung on the gazebo played a scattered melody, and the silence otherwise was welcomed.

After a long moment Sheik lifted the parchment from his lap, brought pen to it, its tip scratching lightly against the slightly textured surface. Link shifted his gaze just enough to peer through his hair at the other man, and the Sheikah continued writing still until abruptly he stopped and handed the paper out from him delicately into the knight's view.

'The castle is listening,' was what it read.

"It always is," was Link's hushed response, detached as his eyes maintained its focus on something now just past the Sheikah's shoulder.

Red eyes bore onto him, searching.

"There was a fence like this one in a ranch, a ranch situated in the center of an expansive field. The fence encircled a pasture, and there were horses there and a girl with red hair who liked to sing. I remember going there many times because it seemed like it was the one place that remained the same throughout time. It was a sameness that was familiar, comfortable. This," Link gestured around them and to the castle behind them, "is a different kind of sameness. It is familiar but not comfortable, it is the same just for the sake of being the same."

Sheik thought for a moment then asked, "The same as what?"

Link sighed, defeated.

"But you cannot disregard the feeling..?"

"It is uncanny but I feel that it is there," Link replied.

"I.." Sheik began, "what would you say if I told you I feel it too?"

Link's brows raised a bit in surprise, he stood a little taller and raised himself from his relaxed position beside the fence.

"Yet," Sheik continued, "how do we ascertain that these feelings are any different than what anyone else feels? How do we know that others do not contemplate this 'sameness' as we do? Life can be banal, mundane, routine. Is that not relative to 'sameness' as well?"

The knight looked temporarily saddened, shoulders slumped, but not having given up he faced the Sheikah and spoke hushed but just loud enough for the other to hear, "Beyond the woods here," and he motioned to the dense foliage that had grown like a wall around the castle and outward, "there is nothing. It continues on and on. It has no end."

Sheik contemplated the woods with disinterest. "It is a large forest. Similar to an ocean where one cannot see its end. However, the end is there, just beyond the horizon to the point at which is not visible."

"No, it repeats. I know this for a fact."

An urgency then, from the Sheikah as he said, "Lower your voice, please."

And just a bit louder than a whisper Link continued, "I have been going in secret almost every night since I arrived here. I've left markers and -"

The Sheikah's eyes widened with anxiety. "This is a fascinating story. Why don't we talk later in the study so I can write all of this down for your book?" The emphasis was subtle but it was there, and he qualified Link as being utterly insane even though he had the nagging suspicion he was not.

The hum-drum of the wildlands to the north was to be expected. The chatter of the men behind him on horseback like ambient noise, they spoke anxiously of the creatures that roamed the desolate fields, wondered how many there would be.

There were always many.

Yet they were drones. Nothing to be afraid of, nothing to even really care about. It felt like busy work to Link, and he rode front of the men on horseback as well, face expressionless, the bouncing of his form atop the steed as it trotted his only significant movement.

He swerved through a pack of them, sword extended, knocking, slicing the creatures back like a leisurely game of croquet. And the men followed suit, mimicked his movements to the best of their abilities because that was how it worked.

Their knight's actions always spoke louder than words. Specifically because he hardly spoke to them. And they obeyed him like a captain, because they and even the Queen knew he was, although they dared not say that to him, especially since she explicitly told them not to.

He had named her Epona, his steed. Hadn't known where the name had come from but it simply had slipped from his tongue one day and that was what she had been called ever since. Their synergy was inspiring. Fluid, in tandem, as one. She knew he wanted to take of running. Anytime they were out there in that open expanse she could feel him holding back that feeling, that urge to kick her sides and never return. His self-control was admirable. His loyalty to the kingdom.

Hack, slash. Hack, slash.

It was mid-day when Link had signaled the men to return to the castle.

"All's clear boys! Let's return home!" the second in command had shouted and the group of six turned around, began galloping southward home. The second in command waited momentarily for Link to join him as usual, but instead watched him carry on north, galloping toward the mountain crevice. He left without him and rejoined the others, looking back every now and again to see if Link had changed his mind. The final time he did the blonde was nowhere to be seen.

"Captured in the mountains," Link muttered to himself as he and Epona slowly traversed the narrow naturally-carved pathways through the pinnacles. The sunlight dim here, shadows and cool air. He felt an imaginary rush of wind spun sand across his face, causing him to shield his eyes. "A desert fortress?" he murmured.

Epona's ears pricked forward.

"Nothing here, girl," he said to her, petting her gently, "just me talking to myself, as usual."

She sighed, a slight fluttering noise.

It was nothing new, the subconscious mirage. The uncanny feeling of being somewhere before. The smells that wafted throughout but didn't exist in reality. He thought that if he continued through the pass that he'd reach the place, but an odd feeling had told him that he had tried before and all that lie past it was void of any such relief.

So he turned Epona around and they both made the journey home, heads down, wandering slowly, both in no hurry to reach it.

"The blue one this time? The one with the gold brocade roses?"

Her back was to him as she perused the armoire.

"You know I am never any help with this."

"But your opinion matters, surely!"

He sighed lightly. "The last time you had council with the men from the east you wore said blue one with the gold brocade roses, if I remember corre-"

"Ah, yes! You are right. What would I do without you?"

"Certainly that is not all I am useful for."

She turned to face him, coming close and in a friendly but professional way she brought bare hand to his shoulder in consolation. It was held-back, timid. Careful. "Of course not, Sheik."

He allowed her to linger and when it was time enough to stop he stood, walking and whilst controlling every sigh that wished to escape him he ended before the ornate window and relaxed on its frame peering out.

"How is it going?" she asked from beyond the changing room.

"How is what going?"

The ruffling of fabric, satin. "...Link."

Butterflies.

"He seems eager to speak of that which ails him, however we have not had much time to-"

"Have you written much?"

"For the time being, no, my Queen."

She exited the changing room and walked before him. "Help me with the buttons, would you?"

His fingers trailed along her backside, the little fabric covered buttons slipping through ribbon loops. One, two, three..

"Do I look alright?" she asked as he continued, her voice a bit apprehensive. Unusual. Her gloved fingers wringing themselves nervously, fidgeting.

He breathed deeply. "The lavender was a nice choice."

"Oh. Yes, well.. the blue we ruled out and I did not feel like pink today."

And her nervous breathing could be heard as well in the solitude and privacy of her quarters, and it felt in a strange way intimate and he felt an unsettling sensation similar to deja vu but not quite.

Four, five, six..

They spoke not again until he was done, at which she turned around facing him, looking somewhat defeated, shoulders slumped. Not very queenly at all. The crown in her hair a bit crooked, and he reached for it, gently re-centering it atop her head. A little white flower from her nightstand he took and placed in her hair just above her temple, and he smiled a bit from under his cowl so his eyes would reflect his kindness.

She gave him a stoic look, as if she were to express at all she would crumble. So he pulled her close and held her with what friendly affection he was comfortable giving, and it made her want to die.

"You have me working after hours," Sheik whispered as he leaned on the door frame.

Link said nothing but motioned to the door. After you, it had implied with a hint of sarcasm in his eyes.

And inside they both relaxed on the chairs made of velvets and brocade, one sitting proper as ever and the knight languid and slouched.

After polite discussion back and forth, a little bit of this, a little bit of that, Sheik sat forward with a serious question on his mind, one from their discussion earlier on that morning.

"So, how is it you can travel to the north but cannot pass through the forest?" He passed Link a glass of red wine which he had poured for him while asking, and the knight was surprised but looked somewhat relieved for some alcohol-induced relaxation.

"Thank you. To reach the north I must have the Queen's blessing to open the central gates. They are kept locked always and only open upon her command. One would think that you could leave from anywhere else, but this is not true. For as I told you, the forest surrounding is infinite." He takes a sip from the glass, keeping his eyes on the Sheikah.

"How long does it take you?" He has a glass of his own now, the flute resting delicately between his fingers.

"I can traverse its entirety in a night, from the sky's darkest point until dawn. At that point, I begin to see the markers again and all I have to do is turn around and I am back at the castle." Link folded his arms, rested back into the chair, a thought still nagging on his tongue. "The oddest thing however, is that if I turn back at any time, I am back at the castle. No matter how far I have ventured through it."

Absolutely insane. "A magical barrier? Perhaps to confuse and trap trespassers?"

"Possibly. Yet why keep everyone out? Even those who seek no harm? Those who are residents of the castle and the town beyond it?"

"I would like to see this for myself."

"I will take you."

A perplexed expression crossed Sheik's features then, almost as if he had snapped out of hypnosis or a daydream and with a slight breath he asked, "Link, why is it that you feel so comfortable revealing your discoveries to me?" And when Link gave him a curious look Sheik continued, "why has it taken us over twenty years to begin talking to each other when we have lived in the same castle for the entirety of it?"

He had been afraid to say it. Afraid at what that sentence and those words being said aloud could do to their world.

And the cowl that had been across his lips was loose, brought free from his face and it did not seem to inhibit him. Link watched in silence as the glass met lips and the red liquid inside trailed into his mouth, the way his throat would move as he swallowed, the way he tasted what remained on his lips with his tongue. And he sat on the chaise on his side with his head rested upon his left hand and saying nothing, simply observing this elegant creature who sat femininely, legs-crossed upon the leather chair, this obviously male but exotic androgyny amalgamation.

Sheik stood for a moment, lighting incense and its tip glowed red until its smoke began to swirl and he grabbed his pen and parchment and re-seated. "I am kept like a secret as the Queen's conservator.." he trailed. The conversation feeling familiar. The way the fair-haired knight had watched him just then felt uncomfortable, sudden, but the same. The same as.. was this the 'sameness' that Link had spoken of before?

Link thought. "I would suppose that is why we have not met until just recently?"

"Is that what you think?" Sheik pulled his legs up under him, sitting slightly to the side, elbow on the arm chair, placed the parchment on the low table beside him. "We have seen each other before." And before, and before.

"At the dinner gatherings?"

"..Yes.."

"and?"

It was back again. That hellish tingling in his gut, in his thighs. Sheik wondered what it would be like to pounce like an animal to the chaise and take a bite. Insanity, he thought. Get a hold of yourself. But he could not help but to feel like the man over there would not resist. Would let him devour him. Strange. And even stranger is that he would not normally call himself a sexual person. Far from it. The danger that the tea leaves had displayed for him came to mind, and yes, oh yes, this was trouble.

"I.. appreciate having someone to talk to." Link said quietly.

The conversation was going in and out.

This same room, but lifetimes before.

"We can never tell her," he had said.

"Tell her what, exactly?" Sheik asked.

Link regarded him with confusion as if he had no idea what the other was talking about.

"She is killing us," Link's voice had said.

And this time Sheik was wise enough to ignore it.