I Love You
The sun had barely reached over the faraway mountaintops, breaking the distant horizon and searing the morning mist when three hard knocks woke him up on that fateful day. Only the farthest weakest ends of the struggling sunbeams entered through the prince's window and, light as a thief, they moved in the direction of the bed that still rested in shadow. An involuntary shudder ran down the spine of the boy who had minutes before been sleeping soundly. The blanket fell off his chest and took its warmth and the embrace of the night with it when he scratched his head and squinted at the servant in the doorway.
"Prince Marth... Are you awake? Beggin' your pardon, sire, but the princess has asked to see you."
His eyes shot open and his vision cleared enough for him to notice that the man was in a cold sweat.
"Elice? Is she all right?"
"She seemed to be, sire, but her words implied a certain urgency. She bade you dress quickly and wait by the throne."
"Has something happened?"
"It's our forces off in Gra, sire. There seems to 'ave been some sort of incident, but... Well, I'm not privy to the specifics."
"I see... Thank you. I'll be there shortly."
Like a passing wind the man was gone from the doorway and Marth felt the cold of the floor touch the soles of his feet clearer than he was aware that he moved out of bed. He moved as if in trance, fumbling with the buttons when he dressed in a hurry. There was no reason in expecting the worst because of an upset messenger, and yet something felt off. Very off. Something that nibbled at his insides. Something as small as the feeling of quivering fingers that would not do something as simple and ordinary as putting on a tunic.
His sister had wanted to meet him by the throne? It was true that formally he was the one in command at home but for her to call for him at this hour. He staggered out of the room and into the dark hall that seemed narrower than usual.
"An incident in Gra..."
Their king had left to assist Gra in battle a few days ago but Marth had not worried. It was his father after all. There was no man more capable of leading an army. With the mighty sword Falchion wielded by the descendant of its bearer, the great hero Anri – whose reputed blood King Cornelius lived up to without question – another historical victory was certain to be ascribed Altea. Just as the king himself had said. War would forever be war though. Their ally Gra had undoubtedly found itself in a dire situation and if so aid meant certain death it was still Altea's duty to help – honor would be at stake. Marth knew his father would not waver or even be shaken by the most devastating odds. The situation might have been worse than he had let on.
"If Elice has news of our father, I pray it's good news."
The prince had quickened the pace when he noticed a figure in the distance. In the dusk he could not make out much other than dark armor but again there was a gnawing feeling inside. It was almost so that he could feel his father's cold stare prick his skin like ice when sensing his will to give in to the feeling eating away at him – Marth knew what his father would have thought of it. Be realistic, he would say. What will become of you if you cannot gather enough faith in yourself to do something as simple as stand on your own two legs? Your pessimism protects how pathetic you truly are, because you seem to believe it shields you from having to try.
The armored man lifted his arm to point in Marth's direction and another came into view. If he thought about it, these feelings held no ground. His father was right in saying he was victimizing himself, crumbling before obstacles when he was the one supposed to be the last man standing. People were counting on him and he wanted to fulfill every duty and exceed each expectation, like he was supposed to. He knew there was none he needed to bow down to. His mind began to catch up with his feet and his facade of bold confidence was broken down for the real thing when he approached the two men.
"Who are you?" the prince demanded, this close on the clear with that they were not a part of the Altean forces and had nothing in his castle, or kingdom for that matter, to do.
"We're soldiers of Gra, li'l prince. And if you know what's good for you, you'll surrender to us without makin' any trouble."
There was no hiding how this statement baffled Marth. The first and perhaps most obvious question that came to his mind left his mouth subconsciously.
"Surrender? But that's ridiculous. Why would I surrender to the army of an allied kingdom?"
The soldier snarled and let out a deep chuckle expressing such mockery that Marth wrinkled his nose before the man spoke.
"They don't tell you much, do they? No matter. You'll 'ave the full story soon enough. Now... lay down your sword."
"I will not. I am the prince of Altea. I will not yield to you or any other nation, here on my own land." He breathed in and gathered his voice. "Under my own castle roof!"
"Heh, you talk big, brat. Have it your way. If you won't lay down your sword, then we'll just have to take your life instead."
The soldier lunged forwards but Marth's eyes were on the second man in the background. Either he was slow-witted or merely confused but his eyes shifted and he was not all too quick to follow his companion's lead. With one gliding motion Marth bent his knees, sank closer to the floor and moved to his right, out of the way of the blade the first soldier attempted to bring down on his skull with a violent cry. The prince drew his sword as he sprinted towards the other man who staggered back and was easily dealt with by one well placed thrust to a vital point. When Marth turned around, keeping the ice-cold expression of his father in mind, the first soldier was hesitating. The prince ran at him. The man hurried to raise his sword again but this time his cry sounded cowardly, pathetic even, in comparison the the first. He still managed to block three of Marth's slashes – quicker than a viper – more out of clumsy luck and good reflexes than any skill, but after each he flinched and it soon became the end of him.
It was but a moment Marth spared to look at the corpses lying face down on the speckled stone floor. From the day he was born, and every day since, he had heard every argument to justify what he had just done and none to the opposite. He had killed enough hares, geese and deers for his feelings to have become numb since long and for his hand to have stopped trembling. He was well aware of his role in life. That was not to say being confronted with the death of another human being, and having caused it, left him unaffected. It was, in the simplest of terms, entirely different to anything he could have imagined or experienced. Even though the bloodstains were camouflaged by the warm color of the carpet and shadows hiding them from the torches, and in spite of taking but a glance, he could not shake the feeling that grabbed him. His fingers hugged the hilt of his sword and he reminded himself to keep in mind why it had ended like this. No matter how the situation with Gra was at current, and whether the men had spoken the truth and their ally had truly turned on them, he could not have foreign soldiers ready to lunge walking around his castle. Elice was up and running about and his mother was most likely sleeping blissfully unaware in her chambers.
By the time Marth reached the throne, another four men had fallen by his hand. The last one he had struck down from his father's seat not long before Elice entered the hall. Her breaths echoed loud and clear when she entered, and he heard her breathe in and gasp, staying in the shelter of a velvet drape when she saw him standing over the body he had just brought to the floor. He tried to shield it as best as he could by standing in front of it when she walked up to him and asked him if he was all right in a soft murmuring whisper. It required a lot of effort of her to quieten her breaths enough to speak calmly. Even though she must have wiped her face, because there was no sweat visible on her skin, flushed spots contrasted to ill pallor and betrayed her shaken state.
He could tell that she had something very important to tell him. Not because of her appearance but because she showed no sign of reaching out or of approaching him with human warmth. The situation spoke for itself either way. Less than half an hour ago he had not had the lives of six men on his conscience. Instead of replying to her question of his own well-being he asked her to explain.
"Steady yourself, Marth," Elice said. "I have grave news. Our father was defeated by the Doluna-Grust allied forces."
She could just as well have slapped him. Even though it was the most logical explanation. White stars danced before his eyes. He was mumbling without being able to put his disbelief into actual words. Not his father. It was one thing that he himself doubted and was weak but then his father was supposed to scoff and prove him wrong. He had always been an unmovable mountain. Undefeated, unconquered and unreachable.
Elice explained without letting the news sink in. It was true that Gra had betrayed their father and struck the army from the rear. It was doubtful whether King Cornelius had made it. All of this Marth had to discern through a soft buzzing sound and he was already distracted trying to make the image of his sister stay still. This would not do. He had to focus.
"As we speak, soldiers sent by Gra are trying to take the castle. Mother and I were separated during the escape. I do not know where she is."
Marth bit his lip. From being lost in chaotic interference he went to drawing a complete blank. Everyone was already escaping? Mother was gone? Elice's expression softened and she put her hands on his slumping shoulders.
"Marth, I need you to listen to me. You must flee the castle. Go on without me."
He looked into her eyes. He was no longer following, not even scarcely.
"We've not many soldiers left," she said and waited for him to respond. He frowned, but nodded all the same. "This is hard to bear, I know, but the castle is lost. We must face that. I will look for Mother and join you as soon as I can. You find Jagen and get away from here – far away. Understand?"
He nodded again. Looking back, that moment had made it painfully clear what a boy he had been. The way he had seen it, he had kept it together for every one else's sake. He had been the responsible one, done what he could, seen the wisdom in his sister's advice and accepted a difficult situation. He was completely unaware how her warmth and serene voice had lulled him into letting go of trying to carry an adult's troubles on his still too young shoulders.
"...All right," he had said faithfully, and looked up from the floor with a shy smile, "but promise you won't be long."
It should have been obvious to him that they would not meet up. If only he had seen her stare after him with tearful affection. What happened after that parting were miseries one could live a lifetime never imagining and which he experienced in the span of a day. Once he reached the sea he had sent one of his own men to a certain death for his own safety, learnt of his sister's situation as a hostage in their own castle with no hope of escaping, accepted that Altea was lost because of the betrayal of King Jiol, heard of his mother's death and his father's loss and demise.
Each of these blows threatened to strike him down, had his father not hardened him and raised him as well as he had. Although staying on one's feet would not make the shaking cease when he stood on the deck of the ship bringing him away and watched his kingdom shrink away from him. When he had woken up it had all belonged to him and now he had to watch it slowly escaping further and further away until not even his eyes could hold on. He was a fool and a failure. There ought to have been something he could have done, but in spite of everything he gave this was the result? He was incomplete. His father's last words that were forwarded to him should be proof enough.
Tell my son that I leave the future of Altea and our continent in his hands. He must rise now where I have fallen. As Falchion's rightful heir, he has been born into greatness... Now... he must be great…
He had never had a single moment of greatness, not even during the best of times when he had fooled himself into thinking he had, and he had never lived up to all that he was supposed to be. The grief when he thought about what it had cost him would not let go. Neither would the insult nor the hatred. Altea looked like the most peaceful place in this world when he sailed away, knowing so much had changed.
In order to handle this he wished for time to stop, just for a moment. He needed to be able to fall down and cry and shake and scream to be able to function. But time will not stop for anyone. In face of that uncompromising fact it was as though a shadow lowered itself over him and the rest of the world, and wrapped the young prince in a dreamless sleep of empty darkness. But although the world might have turned charcoal black to him it did not mean that the sun was erased or that the world changed for anyone else. Everything went on as it always had, and he still existed in that world, and he had to live and follow the flow of time. He could go on driven by duty and musts. He merged all the more with his feelings for Altea and perhaps he became nothing but a medium for justice – inhuman and cold rights and wrongs that one can easily list on a paper.
Everything that could be fixed he fixed. He had regained his kingdom, punished the traitors, won his sister back and gained love and honor from the people. But even to this day the shadow had not lifted. People were nothing but dark silhouettes. Not the same as him. They were strange creatures speaking a language he found he understood less and less. Were they not speaking lies they easily changed their mind. There existed no consistency and not a single word could be trusted. Without truth words lost their function and he could not discern any meaning from them.
During the course of his long and perilous journey, through war-torn countries, muddy battlefields and more great losses for small gains, Marth thought deeply about his own shortcomings and how he could have allowed himself to be tricked the way he had been. It chilled him to the bone when King Jiol's kind face was repainted in his mind and he found how convincingly good it still appeared. It terrified him further when he reunited with his sister and found that he was searching to see beyond a mask on her face as well.
Deception had made him drop his mask. He was no longer a part of the masquerade but watching it as an outsider and audience. He could no longer participate in the playful acting. It was overwhelming, and in the long run depressing. All of the things that humans praised and held dearly lay beyond them. People could be reduced to living with two goals in mind: to be right and to be liked. But they never truly succeeded, because they were living a farce. A farce revolving around reproduction, attraction and how one was perceived by other people – romanticized as love. They said true love was eternal, or at least it ran deep and could not easily be tossed aside. Consideration stemmed from these feelings and made one strive to do good – and doing good was right and often resulted in being appreciated and liked, thus it would increase one's own happiness tenfold. Love was honest, true and good and definitely something attainable. It was human to fall in love, but at the same time humans were the very opposite of what they described love as. Their affections were fleeting, or they did harm. They were either selfish or ignorant of the object for one's affection. It was all very human: one could have the wrong idea about someone or faulty expectations, one could be hurt and victimized. There were so many reasons, and the attending guests of the masquerade would smile and say that that was how it was and that was how life was. But it was not what they made it out to be. Love did not exist and there were no bonds that could possibly tie people together.
The masks would remain unchanged when this was proposed to them and Marth came to realize that the absurdity he saw, the dark unknown figures walking around in their own bright normal world, seeing each other and talking the same language, was nothing he could convey to them. He could not remember how it had been to be one of them or how they reasoned. He had turned away, and they had turned away. He could not count the different promises he had been given, when his coldness alarmed the people around him, but what would the point have been when not a single one was held? His closest friend returned to his duties after months of feeble attempts to connect. His sister stayed in Altea but stopped searching him out. She glided like a ghost outside his door and through the halls of the castle. Roy, a boyish innocent, much too optimistic, stranger had, without reason, chosen to stay. To this day Marth could not fathom why. Any place would have been better for the lord who was free to go and uninvolved. But Roy was also a black figure that he was careful never to let too close. Sometimes he became afraid he was lowering his guard, but yet he was safe.
Then, after years of finding oneself curled up in infinite lonely darkness one senses something behind one's back. Upon turning around the blood freezes because, as if from nowhere, someone is standing there. It is not a shadow. It is a person. That anyone would be able to enter here is not anything one has thought of as possible. It is not anything one has longed for. It is not for certain that had one's feelings been different it would have chased the fear away. Something unknown had invaded this secluded space. From the moment he had met Princess Zelda he had treated her like something unidentified too close for him to ignore. He had taken careful steps to explore and to win control and knowledge. He had tried to run and to hide when her presence became too threatening. He had begun to open up and to share to try new grounds but the whole time she had remained something unidentifiable that had broken into the dark corners of his mind. Outside of that she had not existed. He could touch her as though she had been a statue and taken advantage of her.
Now he could feel a few pieces falling into place. After Zelda had asked him about love and the true meaning behind the word, in this world where one could not be certain of anything, and so there could be not meaning because the one constant thing was truth, and truth did not exist.
It was all connected to this world only the two of them could enter. What did he know about Zelda? She had told him in brief when he had invited her out to dinner. Her mother had died before she had been old enough to form any memories of her. The king of Hyrule had never been able to recover from the loss. He had been vulnerable and an easy prey for Ganondorf Dragmire and at the age of ten Zelda had fled her castle and her father had lost his life. Because the laws of Hyrule were such that the goddesses that had created it sent a hero to strike down whatever evil appeared. There had been no choice but for Zelda to wait and to stay out of Ganondorf's clutches, watching Hyrule fall to ruin and every effort of her own to ease the many burdens never fully making them disappear. When seven years had passed, and Link had come, she had chosen to give him the greatest reward she could imagine: an innocent childhood and the privilege of growing up in peace. Although somewhere in her heart there must have been a selfish desire because, not only would her people and Hyrule be spared its deep wounds, but her father would still be alive. So she had the chance to twist time at her will and send them back, but maybe one is not meant to flee one's hardships. Even with her father returned to her he was still the same mourning and reduced creature that could not stand the sight of her, and it only became worse the more she grew and the more alike she became her mother.
Marth could see the similarities between them. From their far from perfect relationship to their parents to being chased away from their homes at a young age and all of the painful things they had been forced to experience from then onwards. Neither of them knew love and that was why they existed on the outside, somewhere else.
Although there was a difference between them. A crucial difference that was finally turning visible. Marth did not believe in love but Zelda, she has asked about it like a child would when exposed to, and left to explore, the vastness of the world. She had no memory of a mother's love. Her father had given her none. She had spoken of a beloved nursemaid and bodyguard but, as a prince, Marth knew the bond between servant and master would forever serve as a barrier and even if Zelda described this person as a mother it was not unconditional or comparable to the real thing. She had lived seven years in hiding disguised as a man, shying any company because her fall would mean a disaster and she had lived isolated in a castle. The conclusion: Zelda had never experienced love. She did not know what it was. She could not possibly understand it. If she read about it or if she witnessed it, it was still something incomprehensible to the heart. Perhaps something one could grasp on an intelligent level, but never fully understanding.
There was something else. Zelda was not forever and constantly trapped in the dark world. She could disappear in the blink of an eye and leave him in a darkness that felt a thousand times emptier and colder than before. She was like a butterfly flying in and out through the holes of a fence, which made up his prison and which bars he could only grasp and stare through.
Zelda had Link. Her smile was lighter with him and less forced. When she was with him she could leave, although she always came back. Being with him did not erase the dark place from within her and it was doubtful that the naïve fool understood just how fragile her state of being was. What he felt for her was embarrassingly obvious and most surely dangerously confusing for Zelda, who could not interpret it. Link might be playing with fire. He was too close and too unpredictable. He did everything but make it clear to her that he loved her. No wonder Zelda had such a shrewd view of what other people were allowed to do to her and no wonder she went along with it.
Marth felt the disgust welling up. He might not believe in love but it was becoming harder to deny its existence. If he was going to be honest, he had already found himself telling the Hylian princess that his sister had his love. He felt that he could not back down from those words. It would not change that he could not believe in any deeper attachments. This might be nothing but debris from a lost childhood. That was why he could not step in and tell Zelda he loved her, because he did not. He was not her savior, but at the same time Link threatened to ruin her. He was in his obliviousness the most dangerous thing that could happen to her. Zelda could not be allowed to be pulled into this twisted crystallization that tried to piece together a mirror of the world the ordinary people lived in. She needed to see and accept the darkness, and maybe together they could find a way to cope with it and find a ray of light piercing through? But what were the chances? Was it fair to grab onto her and keep her in such a devastating place? Why would he risk what it meant to be left?
At least he could make up his mind about one thing. From now on he would recall what he had learnt as a child and how he had been raised. It was better that he treat Zelda with the politeness a prince was supposed to grant a princess. She would be given the space she required to feel comfortable while he would made sure to stay close enough for her not to feel that there was not a helping hand ready to serve her. But so long as that imbecile...
Marth awoke with a start from his memories and brooding. Zelda was leaning in with her hand about to touch his face, while her own was riddled with concern. With his recent resolve fresh in mind his first instinctual reaction was to keep her from crossing any personal boundaries. He grabbed her wrist and she pulled back from him, gasping his name and eyes wide of surprise. Her free hand found the seat of the bench just in time to support her.
"What the heck are you doing?"
Marth held back a groan when the familiar voice of Samus broke out of the shadows. The wolfpack had been quite effective in tracking them down. When together that was all Marth could see the pair as. Rugged, primitive, bloodthirsty beasts set on ripping him to pieces. Samus was the one standing in the front and holding and arm out to block Link. Both were standing with legs slightly bent and apart, ready to launch, and baring their teeth. Well, the prince could admit the situation left room for misunderstandings. He resisted a sigh, let go of Zelda and held his arms up in surrender. They both eyed him without lowering their guard and right in the middle of this staring contest Zelda rose from the bench.
"It's a misunderstanding," she said, holding her arms up as well.
"Oh, really?" Samus countered with a load of irony.
"It's the truth," Zelda stressed. "I was being too forward and Marth was forced to hold me back."
"Bullshit." Samus did not only not want to believe her. She was afraid of how Link took this explanation. Without even looking she could feel the tension behind her begin to give away for confusion. "He had your wrist grabbed, not the other way around, and was leaning over you."
Marth looked to the side.
"I think I owe you an explanation, or more exactly I owe Link an explanation," Zelda said, walking over to them and brushing by Samus. She looked up at Link, who got out of his fighting stance and glanced back at her without being able to pretend that there was any happiness to be found in this encounter. Zelda breathed in.
"I do not only owe you an explanation. I owe you an apology." She fell silent and smiled sadly. "I do not want to worry you."
Link hesitated to interrupt her but moistened his lips and decided to speak.
"After what just happened, don't you get why I'm worrying?"
"No," she said flat out and ignored his snort when he for a short moment looked away from her. "I feel perfectly safe around Marth and it was true that was just happened was due to my own initiative. I would even have to say that everything that had happened today has been on my initiative. Which brings me to my apology." Her voice softened when she added, "I knew you would not approve of me running off on my own with someone I have known for barely a month and yet I did. I felt so in the way for you and Samus. So much like someone whose presence was nothing but a burden and I chose to flee. I thought a lot about it, and when talking with Marth I began to realize. It hurt to think you might not come after me or could finally enjoy your time with someone else. That you might be better off without me. I..." She swallowed and hung on to his gaze. "I was jealous." Her bottom lip trembled while she waited for him to scold her or to hate her. When no such condemnation came her mouth relaxed. She locked her hands together in front of her chest and the light played with the newly lit excitement that appeared in her eyes.
"I..." Zelda began and was forced to gather her breath again. "I've taken you so much for granted, Link. I've always known that you are my dearest and most precious friend, but I've begun to sense that it cannot be enough to describe how important you truly are to me. You are more than a friend."
Again Zelda fell silent to build up the strength to go on. Link let her take her time. He was not sure he could find his voice to fill the silence anyway.
"I love you," Zelda said, and her gaze locked with his once again sudden enough for him to feel a jolt in his chest. The words left her mouth as a breath of relief and her lips, slightly parted after their great feat, retreated to a tender smile and a soft inhalation.
Link was not sure that he had heard that right. He stared at her lips, and their inviting smile, and those eyes looking at him with so much emotion. It could not be true. A minute earlier he had been convinced she had her eyes set on someone else. After all that he had gone through to get close to her. After all of his failures and the many backlashes. Whenever he had imagined this moment he had pictured himself overcoming the obstacles and telling her. He had never dared to let the thought cross his mind that she would offer him her love willingly and openly. He had thought of it as something slumbering that he would have to awaken.
"...Like a brother!" Zelda finished after gathering one last breath and beamed at him. Link froze with outstretched arms hovering by her elbows and his responding smile stiffened. One could very well say that the Hylian hero had been turned to stone. It was like being raised to the skies and dropped like a rock.
Samus gaped at the two of them. It had seemed too good to be true but this was downright cruel. Link looked like he was about to collapse. The Hylian knew that he could not do that though. During the time he had taken just to stay in control, Zelda's joyful smile had faltered. It was true that it hurt worse than any beating he had taken from any vile monster. She had told him straight to his face that his feelings were not returned and that she did not love him near as much as he loved her. Rejection was what had always held him back, and it had been worthy of his fear and respect. That was exactly why, because he knew this feeling, and was faced with Zelda's uncertain gaze, thst he knew his silence was rejecting her. She thought he could not see her as a sister because she was not dear enough for such a position in his heart. Of course she was like family to him. He wanted more than that. He wanted to make her family. To create a family of their own with her. It was unfair. He had imagined this moment so many times and gone to such length for it to turn out unforgettable and to happen at the right time. Would these words have to be taken from him too? Zelda looked crestfallen, embarrassed and disappointed. His hands came to rest on her arms.
"I... love you too," he said in a voice which falseness shrieked like a badly played violin. Zelda lit up, overtaken by joy, and threw her arms around him. He hugged her back tightly. It was all he could do to stay standing.
Marth watched Zelda happily press herself against that goof while he clung to her about to break apart at any moment. Once again the lowlife had proved what an imbecile he was. When he did say the words to Zelda they were coated with lies and hidden motives – and he beckoned forth even more improper closeness without a label.
It was a tired bunch that returned back to the house. Roy and Peach seemed to have pushed each other to completely run out of energy. They were at least satisfied with the day and quite cheerful, along with Zelda, when they reached the kitchen entrance. The same could not really be said for the other three.
"Haaaa," Peach sighed and flipped the lights on when she bent down to get her high heels off. A surprised grunt was heard from around the corner and some strange noises as if someone had been interrupted rummaging through something. Peach frowned and pulled out her frying pan as she turned around and put a finger over her lips. She was about to sneak around the corner when Roy gripped her arm, and although he was the one without a weapon, walked ahead of her. Samus was about to go after them but it turned out not to be needed.
"Bowser!" Peach cried out in a mix of surprise and anger. "You ate Mr. Game and Watch's cake!"
I cannot imagine that anyone would think that Zelda would magically realize she had feelings for Link and profess her love out of the blue XD It does not really make any sense. Ah, now that this is over and done with I plan for the next chapter to be kind of silly and lighthearted. After everything that Link has gone through it might be time for things to go his way too.
Oh, does everyone remember what I said about Luigi/Cake and the poll in the A/N from ch 27? I was completely serious about the pairing and I was aghast that people supported it. It awoke my inner basher. I can now say that the cake has been successfully terminated, courtesy of Bowser.
I was going to write lots of symbolic emo stuff about a song and a game I remembered from my childhood and how it inspired me to parts of this chapter but A/N's should not be too long so I will skip to my favorite part:
Thank you for all of the lovely reviews! I have said it before but I love to hear people's thoughts on the different pairings. It is true that Link is acting rashly and being overprotective out of love. I think he would be able to take it a lot easier had Zelda just once in a while given him the reassurance he needs, but she is completely unaware of that. And Marth really is behaving... well, in ways that give Link a reason to worry. It gave me a chuckle that most seems to be so against the prince. Well, I can see why.
I'm happy you were fine with me droning on and on about Marth's past. There is a reason why I do not give this "novelizations" a shot (besides not enjoying reading them). I feel I just broke the rules for the umpteenth time too (so if you dislike this story I guess it would not be too difficult to have it removed by reporting it. It might be a bit troublesome for me though because I do no longer have a back-up so I would not be able to read it even in my loneliness). I used the lines from Shadow Dragon for dialogue as some of you might have noticed – might just as well confirm I did not write them (disclaimer!). There are a few things that I described "wrong" and that is contradictory to the game. Mostly little things and if I one day end up being in the right mood I might correct them.
Thank you for reading. See you next time.