It was silent, then.

Link's adamance regarding my place here - as in, I was only to be a side character in the journey I had chosen to come on - was troubling at best and incredibly worrying at worst.

I was shocked, embarrassed, and more than a bit frustrated at the fact that he was so worried I might get hurt or die that he didn't want me anywhere near the fighting, even if that meant I wouldn't know how to defend myself if monsters were to chase me, but more so, I was upset at the possibility that I had upset him.

To prioritize how someone felt about me... what was happening to me, really? I couldn't say for sure why I felt the way I did as I continued to tend to the fire, then worked to prepare and cook some of the  fresh fish I'd caught in a babbling stream nearby, but I could certainly hazard a guess.

I cared too much.

Never in my life had I been so quick to trust someone - and it wasn't unfounded, I was sure of it. Or maybe I was delusional. But no, because it was obvious he had a big heart, and he hadn't done anything to betray my trust in him - and clearly, he trusted me, for he had let me tend to his wound.

But it felt off. I felt I knew Link, but there was something reserved, something tucked away and hidden from view that I had not gotten to see clearly yet, but only in glimpses: in battle, when he ducked into this stoic, quiet, knightly sort of self. It was so different from the laughing, jovial, bright boy I'd already met.

What scared me now was that I had no idea which was the true Link. Was it the one he kept carefully hidden away, or the one he presented? Or maybe... neither of them were him. Maybe I didn't know him at all. Maybe I was giving myself far too much credit.

I pushed those troubling thoughts from my mind, at least for now. It wouldn't do me well to dwell on them, especially not when we'd only been traveling together for half a day. I knew this journey would be hard, but to think we'd argue so soon...

No matter. He was just concerned, and I was, too. We were concerned in different ways - we cared in different ways, for different reasons. But if I knew anything, I knew that the only way around this was to push through it.

Still, I didn't want to apologize, otherwise he might think I conceded, which I hadn't. No, I definitely wouldn't do that. I didn't want my feelings undermined because he thought he knew what was best - and maybe he did, but I wasn't going to give in so easily.

Maybe there was a way to apologize without apologizing, but as I mulled it over, only the sounds of nature and the crackling of the fire found our ears, and I was content with that. It allowed me to think.

It seemed that Link managed to gather his thoughts and grant voice to them before I'd even begun to sort through my own.

"You're good at that," Link said quietly, his voice reaching mine only because of our close proximity. I looked over, away from the fish skewered on sticks I'd planned on using for kindling as they cooked over the fire, and found that he was trailing his fingertips across his arm, across the bandages now covering his wound.

"It won't scar," I said, choosing for now not to comment on his compliment.

It sent too many butterflies alighting in my belly for me to focus on it without growing flustered, so I forced them down into the pit of my stomach and changed the subject as best I could.

"When we reach the stable, we should stock up on gauze and whatever we can find that can clean wounds. I know there are herbs somewhere in Hyrule that are natural cleansers, but I don't know where they are."

Link seemed particularly interested in that and suddenly, I was the sudden focus of a set of stunning cerulean eyes. "That would be helpful," he said. "Where'd you hear about that?"

"You're not the first traveler to visit Hateno," I said, considering it. "Though you are the most interesting one. But anyway, lots of people talk when they visit, and I've heard stories of an herb with seemingly magical properties that can clean wounds and ensure they won't scar."

"Interesting," Link mused. "Well, we'll definitely ask around when we reach the stable."

"It probably won't make sense to spend the night there, will it?" I asked. "What with us taking camp here, so close to it."

Link thought it over for a moment. "Depends on what kind of trouble we get into," he said, his eyes drifting towards the fire. But then, all at once, he looked at me with a boyish, mischievous smile. "Good trouble, I mean."

I smiled and it seemed that the air between us had cleared, at least just a bit. We had at the very least settled back into the comfortable dynamic we found with each other - that dynamic that made me feel that I did know Link, because this was so natural, so easy.

But there was lingering sadness in his gaze, lingering sadness that I wished to take away. But how? And... if that lingering sadness was because he thought I might get hurt under his watch, under his care, how else would I do that other than by returning home after our journey unscathed?

I couldn't possibly be satisfied with that. Not returning home unscathed I mean, but being a burden on his shoulders, something only to protect. I could fight - I wanted to fight - because even if I decided to remain in Hateno at the end of it all, if monsters returned to our beach, or approached from the forest, someone would need to protect us.

Thadd had his pitchfork, but that was only for intimidation if someone that didn't look trustworthy approached the village. Even our farmers had their tools but none of them had a single violent bone in their bodies.

That left... me. The only one who had dared raise a weapon for Hateno's safety since those soldiers and villagers valiantly fought at the fort against the Calamity.

It felt blasphemous to compare myself to them, but it was all I had.

Besides, I...

Link's stomach growled, pulling me from my thoughts. I looked at him, a smile on my face. "Hungry after your fight, are you?"

"Maybe just a little," Link answered sheepishly, and I laughed when his stomach grumbled once more as though to directly protest against Link's clearly falsified words.

"Dinner is almost ready," I assured him.

"It smells really good," he said, and from what I could tell, he was being honest.

And only minutes later, I'd distributed the food, with the fish over a simple bed of greens because it was all I had the time to fix before the fish was ready, and Link was ready to eat immediately, and he scarfed his meal down with so much vivocity that I had half a mind to believe he thought the fish had been threats, monsters in disguise that had to be taken care of as quickly as possible.

Though I was still eating, I watched as Link leaned back on one hand, using the other to pat his stomach. His eyes were closed, clearly content and if he was a cat, he'd be purring, surely. But he wasn't, and so he settled on... burping.

Oh, good.

His eyes opened then, and he looked at me happily. "You gotta promise me something, (Y/n)."

"Mm?" I hummed, finishing my bite then swallowing it down. "What is it?"

"You gotta promise to cook for me for the duration of our journey together!"

Oh, good, I thought once more.

"I forgot to mention it," he said playfully, "but yes! The final provision of you joining me!"

I couldn't help but smile at his joy, but remained skeptical because I knew men and how they behaved, and if this man dared make a comment on the fact I was a woman and was expected to be good at this... Oh, I'd heard that line before, and those men of Hateno had very quickly learned not to mess with me. If Link did the same, well, the trajectory of this adventure would very rapidly change.

So, in my mind I pleaded, Don't be sexist, don't be sexist, don't be-

"You're just really talented, I wasn't expecting it!"

Oh.

Huh.

"I think it'll be a good thing to leave you to do it, really," he continued.

Alright, here we go. Here it comes.

"I can't cook," he went on to say. "I'm pretty useless at it, to be honest... I can use a sword, but not a knife. Go figure, huh?"

I couldn't help but shake my head indulgently at his words. "You've got the patience to hunt for yourself, and strength to kill monsters, and the courage to fight. I think you're more than qualified to cook, Link."

"You say that now, but I promise I'm awful," he said, smiling all the while.

"This isn't just your way of getting out of cooking for yourself, is it?"

"No, not at all," he said honestly, shaking his head. Judging by his eyes, he really was being honest. "Trust me, what I do can't be considered cooking, not really. I can't tell you how many good ingredients I've ruined..."

"Ok, ok," I conceded. "I get it. I'll cook for us, promise." Suddenly, his hand was towards me, but more specifically, his pinky finger was outstretched and he was looking at me expectantly. "Link?"

His gaze turned confused then, and then apologetic, and then embarrassed as a rosy pink hue creeped up his neck and into his cheeks, then his ears. "You... still do these, don't you? Pinky promises?"

"Still...? What do you mean by that?"

"Um," he stammered out, "just that... it's kind of a childish thing, I mean, and so I don't expect that you would remember, maybe you do, but I just-"

"I haven't made one since I was a little girl," I assured him, "but I remember what a pinky promise is.

I didn't have it in me right now to bring attention to the fact that I didn't buy his explanation. All I did was continue to look at him skeptically, and I figured that even if I didn't voice my suspicion, he'd have guessed I felt that way anyway.

"Just promise," he pressed, his voice quiet and pleading.

"Alright," I said, giving in. I linked my pinky finger with his, and met his eyes surely. "For the duration of our journey together, I'll cook for us, Link. I promise."

"Good, then," he breathed out, removing his hand from my own. When he laid back, setting his hands behind his head, I followed his gaze upwards, towards the sky. Through the break in the canopy, the crescent moon was visible, plain and beautiful and clear, a sharp arc in the sky.

The first moon I'd ever seen outside Hateno. Yes, it was the same moon I'd always seen, but it was different, true. No longer was I seeing it from my window, nor from the hilltops of Hateno's cliffs, but from a forest - a forest far outside the village I'd spent my whole life in. I was seeing this moon through the breaks in the trees, sitting in the dirt with an adventurer by my side...

Was it really only this morning that I'd demanded to go with him? Was it really only that long ago? Not even a full day, and yet it I had seen and done so much.

This was only the first day of what was to be the adventure of a lifetime - for even if I chose to adventure again and again after this, this will remain the very first stepping-stone, the starting point, the first step I took towards seeing Hyrule and finally, after a lifetime of fooling myself, of learning at long last who I am.

I smiled. I couldn't keep it from my lips even if I tried. I wrapped my arms around my knees and continued to gaze upwards, towards the moon, the brightest spot of light against the inky blue canvas that was the sky.

And as night wore on, after a while, I laid back without even really thinking of it. I'd honestly even forgotten that Link was there at my side until he spoke. "Your first night on the road," he spoke quietly when I was comfortable beside him. "How do you feel?"

"Good, strangely enough," I considered. "I should be nervous. I know I should. But I'm not."

My smile turned mischievous then, and I glanced sidelong at him only to find that he was already looking at me directly, having turned his head to see me clearly - and centering his focus on me entirely. I dared not let it fluster me. I dared not let it show on my face.

Rather, I maintained my playful facade and added, "then again, how could I be nervous, what with such a seasoned adventurer here with me?"

Pride and joy glittered in his eyes as he beamed at me. "That's right," he affirmed. "There's nothing to be worried about if I'm here!" I laughed quietly, looking back towards the sky again, and Link followed suit. "It's always exciting," he told me. "Starting out on a new adventure like this, I mean. It's been a while since my own started... and one I chose."

Sensing his desire to be truthful, to let me in on something, yet also his hesitancy to spill anything, perhaps for fear of any number of things happening... I prodded gently, offering him every chance to refuse. I would only accept an answer if it came by his terms - there was no way I would accept one by demanding it. It wouldn't be fair to him.

"What do you mean by that?"

"Ah," he said, clearly rethinking his decision to divulge, even slightly. "Just seems that I've been running a lot of errands lately, that's all."

"Hateno, you mean?" He nodded. "And Kakariko? Heading there is another one?"

"Yeah," he said. "It's important, I know it is, but it's been a while since I've been able to... you know."

"I think I get it," I said, still looking up towards that moon.

For a moment, I wondered if I shouldn't even try to relate our experiences. It might be insensitive, and it might not help at all. But for him... I wanted to try. To feel alone in a land as diverse as this was a truly awful, isolating feeling. And it might help him to know that he wasn't alone... just as it had helped me.

"In Hateno, though relatively safe and calm, was the same day in and day out. I did what I could to change things day to day, but it was hard to. Life there is slow, easy, calm... Safe, yes, but isolating. And I felt like I was the only one that wanted a change, that wanted to explore... that wanted to see what was beyond our gate. But I didn't have the means to leave. That is, not until you arrived."

I turned my head and looked at him. Once more, I was stunned momentarily at the realization that he'd been looking at me already, and I was winded briefly by the sight of his eyes, reflecting all the ghostly blue light of the moon and making them appear to be lit in an ethereal, divine way.

"The point is," I said gently, "I know what it's like to feel like your life isn't your own to live. I had to work and do things for myself and others but this is the very first thing I've done for myself. Do you know what I mean?"

"Yeah," he breathed out. "Yeah, I know exactly what you mean." He paused, glancing away briefly. When next he spoke, his eyes found mine surely, searching my eyes for something unseen.  "I'm uh... I'm sorry for snapping at you earlier."

"I'm sorry for pushing the issue," I said. "I just..."

"You don't need to explain yourself," he said. "I was just a jerk."

"You're not a jerk for wanting someone to be safe," I argued gently. "Or to at least be reasonable. I just got upset because if you got hurt worse than you did, and I wasn't able to help, or..." I shook my head. "I went my whole life being useless. So when at the beach that day I finally decided to do something, to fight..."

"Was it liberating?"

"Kind of," I answered. "I don't really know how to describe it. But... that seems like a good start."

"Being able to fight is a good thing," he said. "When it comes to defending yourself, anyway. I just don't want you to fight if you don't need to. If you got hurt, then..."

"It wouldn't be your fault," I assured him, though I was sure he didn't buy it or believe it, if his facial expression was any indication of that. "But I understand where you're coming from. I do."

"Good, then," he said softly, looking back towards the sky.

A few quiet moments passed where the moon seemed to be all we could focus on, at least outwardly. Inwardly, I was sure his mind was racing just as fast as mine was. But like before, he seemed to find words before I could, as well as the nerve to speak them into existence, to break the comfortable silence we'd fallen into.

"I'm kinda proud of you, you know," he said.

"Hm? How?"

"Finding the strength to fight, even without knowledge of how to do so," he told me. "That takes guts."

"I didn't think about it at the time," I said, "but it was pretty instinctive."

"You wanted to protect your home," he provided. "It's noble. And... takes a lot of strength I'm sure you didn't know you had."

"Yeah, well," I said, trailing off right away. "I was terrified."

"All fights bring a certain level of anxiety," he told me. "That never goes away."

"I see," I said. Then, with a smile, "Even when you're as skilled as you are?"

"Especially then," he said, not without a certain level of melancholy I wasn't expecting. "The stronger you are, the more is expected of you."

Cryptic words, yes... but incredibly truthful. That I could tell by his tone alone, and the sight of his profile, staring ever upwards.

Just what had happened to him, just what he had been through, and what left he had to do before he could be free of what was clearly burdening him were unknown to me. His strength, his courage, and his heart all went far deeper than I originally thought.

And I wanted to help him carry it. This my heart felt surely, and it began to thump more surely within my chest as I came to the realization that it's what I wanted. His was a good soul, a kind one, clearly; but what would force him to be a fighter, and what would entice him to remain one, even when it was obvious he was so conflicted?

Link was little more than a puzzle to me. But some ground had been broken here tonight, and as he got up, saying it was about time to head to bed so we could get an early start in the morning, I felt we had grown closer, at least somewhat. And this was solidified when he reached his hand towards me, offering wordlessly to help me up, which wordlessly I accepted.

When the bedrolls were laid out, and the fire began to die out with the loss of fresh kindling, he wished for me to have a good night and good rest, and I did the same for him.

And that marked the end of my very first night outside Hateno, the village of the normal, the village I had spent my whole life in.

Until now, of course. But I felt safe here, in this place and in this company. And I'd make sure I'd never regret this, no matter how scared I might have been at the start.