Pre T.A.A.H:

Link was not to be underestimated. Not on any day, in any country, under any circumstance. He did not look like he could do much damage, true, and that was unfortunately something he could not openly deny. His physical appearance often gave people the wrong impression. He looked frail, young, and hardly accustomed to the harsh reality of a normal life, let alone that of a full-fledged warrior.

It made people rush to a set of very common, apparently obvious, conclusions. "He will break if you so much as touch him too roughly." "He's not old enough to know how to properly hold a sword, let alone use it to its full potential." "He is so naïve about the world that he'll take anyone for their word and leave himself vulnerable to attack." They were all very understandable first thoughts upon meeting the Hylian for the first time. They were things that no one who actually knew Link would ever blame another person for initially thinking. Yet, as every single one of his companions could attest to, they were all very dangerous assumptions to make.

Link knew how to take care of himself. He may have seemed harmless enough with that perfect baby face and unassuming smile, but Siegfried knew better. Siegfried had seen each and every one of those conclusions picked apart until there was nothing left.

He had seen Link take on the full brunt of hell's fury in the form of metal, hard oak and clenched fists. He had seen the Hylian surrounded by adversaries who could have easily slaughtered him, without so much as blinking. Siegfried had seen the teenager volunteer to finish fights that someone else had started, even though common sense told everyone else in the given area to vacate the premises. And in each and every one of those situations, Link had been able to give three times as much as he had received.

The blond knew how to use his sword. He had had decade's worth of battles to hone his skills, and they were the best of their kind. Each was mastered in such a dedicated fashion, carried out in a precision unmatched by anyone who had ever lived in this world, and repeated so often they were now second nature to the boy who had discovered them. Hell, Link had created them. His fighting style was his own, his own creation, his method of survival, his way of living. No one could replicate it, or even began to fully anticipate the power it held. He lived by that sword and he was prepared to die by it, which made him anything but naïve.

Link knew how the world worked. He knew the shortcuts, knew the back alleys, and he knew that dishonest people could eventually be the ones to come out on top, regardless of whether or not they were deserving of their position. And while it was true that he would trust you upon that first meeting, if you so much as gave him a tiny inkling that there might be a reason to regret that decision, he would run circles round you. By the time he was through, you were a shell of who you once were with a broken ego, a tarnished reputation, and any other kind of damage the situation called for at the time.

People did not expect those kinds of things from Link. Yet, despite what everyone seemed to think, the he could have the world on a string if he wanted to, and it was unlikely people would know what he was doing until everything was said and done. He was just too good of a person to hold such a delicate item in the palm of his hand.

Siegfried had seen the boy in action dozens of times in many different scenarios and battles and scenes of life. It never failed to amaze him how truly powerful he would turn out to be when the situation required it of him. Nor was he ever anything less than breathless when he saw the cool warrior return to his warmer, friendlier self when the fighting was done.

Pre T.A.A.H

Link did not often showcase his many vocal talents. Siegfried had learned early on that the boy did not talk just to hear himself speak. When those tones were used, they were taken hold of with an instant and subtle kind of precaution. A voice can do so much damage. Words, laughs, cries, they all held a special kind of power that had to be tended to with care and unleashed on the world with caution. No one knew that better than Link.

Siegfried wondered if that was why he was so silent at times, nearly mute at others. Was it because he knew what he could do if he were not so careful? What did that say about the people he did speak too? Were they strong enough to deal with a power so subtle it was nearly nonexistent? Did it mean that they could withstand whatever the boy said, even if it one day brought them pain? Did it mean that they could survive even the harshest of his tones?

And what did it say about Siegfried, who was the one spoken to the most?

Siegfried could not help but ask one day. "Why is it that you seem to talk to me the most?"

Link, thinking the other was playing around, teasingly asked, "Why don't you ever stop me from talking?"

Siegfried answered, completely serious, "I like the sound of your voice."

Link had promptly turned red and could not find it in him to speak for the rest of the day, much to Siegfried's disappointment.