Title: La Forza del Destino

Author: Alex Foster

Category: Romance

Rating: PG

Summary: Picking up where en passant left off, the story of Anju and Kafei before Majora's Mask continues.

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by Nintendo. No money is being made and no infringement is intended.

Author's Notes: Well, I had my heart broken today. And I figured what better way to get over it than to slink back to my old stomping grounds and post romantic drabble? This is set before the events of Majora's Mask so Kafei hasn't been turned into a child yet. Feel free to leave a review and let me know what you think.

This one is for you, Amber.

Robert Frost (1874 – 1963)

Agnes DeMille

"Give me another, Kafei."

He smiled faintly. "I believe that all women—no, strike that. 'All' is encompassing and dangerous to the argument. 'Most' is safer, but doesn't carry enough effect to sway the opposition. 'Nearly all' is safe and compels a visual image.

"I believe that nearly all women, deep down inside, wish for a gallant knight on a white horse to rescue them from drudgery and monotony."

Anju frowned at him. "That statement is one of the most inaccurate, egotistical, unintelligent things I have ever heard you express."

His smile grew. "So you don't agree."

"No."

The young lovers walked down the deserted streets of Clock Town. Very few people left their homes at this late hour—very few were even awake to see this hour—and those that were kept to the shadows and their own dubious agendas.

The echo of Anju and Kafei's good-natured debate carried up and down several streets around them. The pair walked slowly and without solid direction—it was enough for them to simple enjoy the night, each other, and an exchange of political views.

"Look at the women you know," Kafei said, automatically falling into his well-trained diplomatic tone, "look at the society in which they were raised. I am not saying women are not capable—far from it, in fact—but I am saying that somewhere deep within their psyche, is a desire to escape from the unpleasantness of life. Society, in the form of dolls and fairy stories, teaches young girls that a knight will save them. It conditioning in its purist form."

"I don't need a man on horseback, and I doubt Cremia would say she needs a white knight," Anju said. "She does quite well for herself, and she is happy doing it. There is no drudgery to be saved from."

"No drudgery on a farm!" Kafei shook his head and whistled. "That is an amazing woman."

"I still don't believe you," Anju said.

"Didn't think you would."

They crossed a small bridge over a gently flowing brook. The clop of his tailored boots and her wooden shoes momentarily overpowered the sound of ebbing water.

"Give me another one," she said.

"No, no, Anju," he said, "it's your turn. You give me one."

"Okay. I believe all men feel the need to be a woman's savior."

"All?" he asked. "Not 'most' or 'nearly all?'"

"All," she confirmed.

"Well," he said, drawing out the moment as he appeared to think her statement over, "that is just wrong."

Kafei's family table had ceased to be the 'family' table a great number of years before. If he tried very hard, he could vaguely remember a time when the Mayor of Clock Town and the head of the city's social class had made, and kept, an appointment to have dinner with their son.

The dinner conversation quickly fell apart, if his memory served. Something about something someone's daughter was doing with someone's son. Kafei guessed his father had been correct in saying it was unimportant because he couldn't remember the event at all.

It was because of the family tradition of eating separately that Kafei was shocked to find his parents waiting for him at lunchtime.

His diplomatic training kept his face blank as he sat across from them. The hard wood table was freshly polished and he could see their reflections in its cherry top. He didn't like this—his parents never collaborated on anything. That was why they had had him and raised him to be a mediator.

"Good afternoon, mother, father," he said, laying his napkin across his lap.

"We missed you at breakfast, son," his father said.

They were at breakfast, too? Oh, he really didn't like this.

"I had a late night," he said.

"You've had quite a few 'late' nights with that girl...Anju," his mother said. Placing an emphasis on Anju's name that he didn't like the sound of.

He knew his parents loved him, but they had never taken interest with his social life. As long as he didn't embarrass the family, and used the intellect they knew him to possess, they were content to leave him be. He traced his nights with Anju. Had he somehow crossed one of his mother's finely drawn social circles?

No, not that he could find. His father's? No, Anju had no interest in the political arena—save of course for basic knowledge that allowed her to debate the rights and wrongs of policy with him.

"Yes, I have," he answered. "Is there something wrong with that?"

"Oh no, Kafei," his mother assured him. "I just worry your mind might be elsewhere than your duties."

"My duties?"

His father dabbed at the corners of his mouth with his napkin. "Your mother has been planning a banquet to honor the sacrifices and accomplishments of Mr. and Mrs. Kechet."

Kafei didn't know what grand sacrifices the good Baron and his too young wife had made to the city, but he was familiar with his roll in the banquet. It was his job as the only offspring of the Mayor to look the proud son at official dinners and balls.

"Many mayors from neighboring cities will also be in attendance," his mother said. "Including one who paid us a visit not that long ago; his daughter will also be accompanying him."

Kafei understood then. Enoli. One of his unofficial duties was to act as escort and guide for the daughters of visiting mayors. He sometimes wondered what his parents would have done if they had had a girl in place of him.

"We would love to have your Anju as a guest," his mother said, "but it just wouldn't do. You understand, don't you?"

He did. He didn't want to, but he did. "Of course, mother."

"Very good, Kafei."

With that, as though on cue, his parents rose and, without a glance at each other, vanished through doors at opposite ends of the room.

"I'll checkmate you in three moves," Anju said.

Kafei glanced over the board at her. It had been several months since their first chess game together. Since then the competition had balanced with wins and losses being nearly equal for both players.

It was fascinating to Kafei to finally encounter another player who could match him move for move. In the past, that had been a rarity for him.

It had become a weekly ritual for them to meet at the Stock Pot Inn, late at night so the guests would not demand anything from Anju, for a game of chess.

"Are you improving?" he asked.

"I decline to answer that due to the fact you are, in this, my opponent," she answered, somehow finding a way to duplicate his diplomatic tone. "Your mind is not with the game. What's wrong?"

He shook his head. "It's nothing."

"Then I'll checkmate you in three moves."

He glanced from the board to her and sighed. "Do you ever feel smothered by the obligations of your life?"

She interlaced her fingers and leaned forward. "Do you?"

"No, no, Anju," he said, "don't answer with a question. I know the tricks and they won't work on me. Answer what was asked."

"Okay." She thought for a moment. "There are days when my duties here can seem overwhelming, but never to the point of giving up and joining the Sisterhood of the Light."

That had the desired affect. Kafei smiled. "And if they ever did rise to that point?"

"Well...if they were that overwhelming, and I didn't have anyone to listen to my concerns, then I'd learn to like black and you'd learn to control your sinful thoughts about a Sister."

"You could really give everything up?" he asked, surprised.

Her thin brows turned downward in a frown. "You are talking in extremes, Kafei. What is really going on with you?"

"I wish I could run off and become a Sister of the Light," he said.

"I don't think you'd be welcome in the convent," she said. "But I understand what you mean. Why can't you?"

"Because my obligations cannot be shaken off," he said. "My family depends on my responsibilities, and the city depends on me through my family. Without me to govern my mother and father's interests, they could not govern this city."

"It is not the job of children to hold their families together," she said, her head tipped to the side. "Whether by love or diplomacy."

"You are right," he said, "but it is the job of a diplomat to keep peace. Whether within a state or a family. And when the ripples in the pond can effect so many, it is doubly important that the diplomat do his job."

She gave a slight nod in relinquishment. "What brought about your calling to the Sisterhood?"

He admired her ability pick her battles. She gave up one argument to pursue her original concern. "It really is nothing, Anju." This was true, in a way. The idea of the banquet, having to once again have Enoli on his arm, and to spend yet another evening of his life listening to and returning polite prattle occupied very little of his thoughts.

He mainly worried about was doing all this without Anju there with him. Even if his mother had not objected to Anju's presence within her carefully laid social strategies, he doubted he would have asked her to accompany him; he loved her too much to ever subjugate her to that lifestyle.

His statement was not a lie—it was a half-truth. He was very good with schematics.

"All right," she said fingering a pawn, "but if it becomes something, please come to me before going to the Sisters."

"Bargain struck." He smiled. "Now, whose move is it?"

Soft music from the Orranian six-piece orchestra filled the grand hall of the mayor's manor. Large buffet tables formed a circle around the hall allowing for a wide space for dancers. Food from Termina and its neighbors filled each table. There was stuffed eel, roasted pork, raw oysters, tigite, beef, cheeses, large bowls of greens, chicken, and numerous plates of desserts. In between it all were large sculptures made of ice, some several feet tall. Artfully captured in solid ice were men, women, and even animals.

A handful of people twisted and turned with near perfect persuasion on the floor set aside for dancers. They moved in ridged, formal steps. This was to them, as everything here was, just another dialect in the language of nobles. They were passionless.

Kafei stood apart from it all in a corner amazingly not filled with food or gaudy decoration. He watched the scene with an uninterested understanding and saw things most not trained for this sort of night might have missed. It was a game, he knew. The foods, the decorations, even the event they were celebrating were all part of a much larger game.

The food, enough to feed most families for months, was just for show. Most of it was destined for the trash. Nobles and other people of import walked around with tiny plates just big enough to fit in the palms of their hands, but hardly ate a thing. They, like Kafei, already ate before the start of the party. The food gave them something to carry around while they socialized; the party gave them a reason to socialize.

The dancing was the same. It did not escape Kafei's notice that only the young danced. While their parents watched and schemed, the children of those important people played a game of their own. Dance partners were carefully chosen; those that the women rejected were often decided before the offer was made; and hand fans, the official language of next generation nobles, were specifically displayed, opened, closed, and tucked away to send wordless messages.

Some of the women wore flowers pinned to their dresses. The unspoken messages of those flowers, however, were often more sordid than those conveyed with fans. Prominently worn, everyone knew the meaning of the flowers, but few would speak of it openly. Such were the rules of their game.

The young game, Kafei knew, often wasn't as mean spirited as that of the adults. It was just training for when they were mature. Like lion cubs playing with the half-dead kill their mother brought home.

Normally, Kafei enjoyed dabbling in that game. He would dance a few numbers, whisper in a couple ears, maybe even present a flower or two, and then stand back and watch the fans flutter like mad.

Such was their game. However, Kafei was not in the mood for that tonight. The actions of so-so with you-know-who never really interested him, but it was usually enough to pass the night.

"You are abnormally quiet tonight," a voice said, intruding on his musings.

Kafei turned and raised his pleasant yet neutral expression without thought. "Enoli. I'm sorry, I have been a most ungracious escort."

Enoli, clad in a multi layered dress of rich green silk, toyed with the paper folds of her fan as she regarded him. His gaze hardly ever leaving her eyes, Kafei watched to see if her fingers would linger on one fold longer than another. No message; just a nervous habit this time.

"Your mind is elsewhere tonight, Kafei." Her perfectly coiled ringlets bobbed slightly as she tipped her head. "Perhaps in town?"

Kafei smiled and reminded himself that she received the same training he had. "You have me at a disadvantage, Enoli."

"The peasant girl you have been lying with," she said calmly. "Word has already spread through our circles." She flashed a fan-signal to someone behind Kafei deeper in the crowd and then placed her fan up her sleeve. A clear message not to disturb her now. "You are making a fool of yourself, Kafei."

"How so?"

"You are better than her," Enoli hissed. "If you wished it, no one in this room could touch you. You are the only son of Clock Town's mayor. You are the heir to all that you see! You could command all the people in this room if you wanted to."

Kafei shook his head. "But I don't want that. Let the people decide the person they want to lead them, Enoli. If that's me, then I'll serve, but I'm not going to manipulate my way to power."

"You don't have to manipulate people for power," she implored, "it is already yours. By right of birth you are a leader."

"By right of birth I am a man free to make his own decisions," he countered. "To believe that and then turn around and take the same right away from the people would be blasphemy of the highest sort."

Enoli sighed with exasperation. "This commoner has make you think this way."

"No. She shares my views, yes, but the roots of my beliefs extend much farther back than Anju. I came to those conclusions early on watching events like this one tonight. A structure such as ours cannot stand forever. We chip away at the base with every deception of the people.

"A true ruler, Enoli, understands when not to lead."

Enoli regarded him for several long moments. Even before she spoke, Kafei could see that nothing he said sunk in. This was her life, her world, and any concept that denied it was immediately wrong. "An education that most can only dream of," she finally said. "A rich intellect that knows how to use that education, a destiny that guarantees you power, and you throw it away for a two rupee whore."

Kafei was moving before he was fully aware of it. Stepping in close to Enoli, he loomed large and tall over her. He felt something rarely touched bubble up inside of him. "Be careful," he said low enough for her ears only. "I might not want power, but that doesn't stop me from having it. Just as I could easily rule any of the people in this room, I could also destroy them.

"Nobles and two rupee whores"–he touched one of her ringlets–"often look the same."

With that, Kafei turned on his heel and marched across the great hall. Her words echoed through his head. His peers already knew about Anju. If he left, they would know where he was going. They also knew that he was Enoli's escort.

He stopped near the white latticework that decorated the archways leading in and out of hall. Sparing a glance over his shoulder, and seeing his mother watching his every move, Kafei plucked a red colored bud from one of the vines running up and down the lattice. He brought it to his nose, bowed in Enoli's direction, and then walked from the great hall.

A message indeed.

"I need a room for the night."

Anju blinked slowly and took in the sight of Kafei standing in front of the Stock Pot Inn's counter. He was quite a sight in dark trousers tucked into high boots, white tunic, and deep blue coat. It was late and she had been asleep when he rang the service bell. The advantage was his for she was barefoot with a robe wrapped around her bedclothes.

"Innuendo?" she asked.

"Mere fact," he said, laying a sizable amount of rupees on the countertop. "I don't know how much rooms normally cost," he added. "Is this enough?"

It was enough to rent an entire floor. "Yes," she said. "Any reason why?"

"I chose not to go home tonight."

Anju arched a perfectly trimmed brow. "How rebellious of you."

Kafei sighed and glanced down.

"Kafei," Anju began slowly, "you aren't on your way to the Sisters of the Light, are you?"
That had the desired affect. He laughed. Anju's lips pulled upward in response to the sound.

"Things have suddenly became very complicated, Anju. I think I might have used you tonight."

"Oh?"

"I—Could we sit?"

Anju nodded and rounded the check-in desk. She walked with him to one of the small tables around the common room. Instead of sitting across from him, however, she pulled her chair close to his and sat beside him.

The room was quiet and still as snow falling. The only light was from the single oil lamp she had brought from her room. In between the sounds of their breathing, she could hear the slight hiss as the wick burned. Dinner has long since passed but faint odors of the fresh bread and beef roast remained.

"I used you to prove a point tonight," Kafei said. "I made the nobles at that party in the mansion tonight think that you and I are more than we are."

"Oh?" she said again. "Why did you do this?"

Kafei opened his mouth but didn't produce any words. After a long moment he smiled and said, "I did it because I was angry."

"With whom?" Anju asked calmly.

"The nobles. My parents. Myself for being there when I wanted to be...well, here."

"If you dislike it so, why were you there?"

"Because it's my duty."

"You're not there now."

"Very true," he admitted. A minute passed silently.

"Anju, do you know how I spend my days?"

She shook her head.

"I attend meetings, lunches, and, like the rest of my father's staff, keep those whose business or complaints don't warrant the mayor's attention satisfied and away from him. I listen to pointless prattle all day long.

"And lately, having never before experienced this, I find myself listening to them speak about nothing wishing for just a single moment with you. I would trade all that I am for a game of chess with you."

Anju smiled faintly and moved closer to him. Her white robe stood out in sharp contrast to his dark clothing. She caught him stealing a glance over her form as she moved. She didn't feel the need to conceal anything from him. Besides, she'd seen his observational skills in action; by their second meeting he doubtlessly knew the style, cut, and color of her nickers.

Anju touched his hand, gave it a small squeeze, and then slowly moved up his arm. The feel of his silk coat was like quicksilver underneath her fingertips.

"You have done something to me I've never felt before," he said, meeting her eyes. "I think I'm in love with you."

"I cannot say the same," she said, leaning in. She could feel his warm breath against her face. "I know that I'm in love with you."

Realizing her words, Kafei smiled. "I think, Anju, that you should see if there is a room available for me. We could get carried away."

"I don't mind if we get carried away, Kafei." She kissed him softly. "And I don't think a room will be a problem tonight."

He raised an eyebrow. "Innuendo?"

Anju shook her head. "A simple statement of fact.

"There is, however, something you should know. I do not need nor want you to be my savior."

He nodded thoughtfully. "Well, a gallant knight would have handled himself differently than I at the ball tonight. And I don't have a white horse; I walked here."

"By our own lines of thought, then," she said, "we are enigmas. What should we do?"

He made up his mind and kissed her again, passionately this time, and the importance of noble games, fans and flowers, and everything else faded away. Tomorrow there would be gossip and rumors, but Kafei would deal with them. After all, they were both young, invincible, and would always have plenty of time.

End.