Right, so this is my first Zelda fanfic (and only my second fanfic ever), so I hope I won't do too badly. This story will contain shounen-ai/yaoi, so please don't complain about it since I just warned you right here. Another warning I'm adding because of the persistent badgering by certain individuals: While I am fully aware that according to canon, Sheik is Zelda in disguise, he is not, however, in this story. He is his own, separate person.
Disclaimer: The Legend of Zelda, its characters and places is property of Nintendo, I'm only borrowing them!
The moon rose above Lake Hylia, casting its pale light over the land. The water splashed against the shore, a whole little symphony in itself. Crickets joined in, and the stage was set for the night's concert.
On a small island, upon which a large, naked tree stood proud and tall, a small fire was crackling merrily, providing warmth and light for the figures around it. One of them, a young man who could not have been more than seventeen or eighteen, lay shivering under a blanket, his skin flushed and sweaty. A large cut across his forehead marred the otherwise perfection of his face. He was breathing heavily, his injuries taking their toll upon his body.
The other figure, a masked warrior, was eyeing the first figure wearily with his crimson eyes. He was wearing a dark blue exoskeleton, a type of garment made of cloth that was strong and durable. It stretched tight over his body, showing a lean and slender figure with muscles honed by years of training. A tabard displaying a red, bleeding eye covered his chest. Bandages covered his lower arms, hiding several knives. The cowl of the tabard covered the lower half of his face, and a fringe of blond hair fell down to cover one of his eyes. The Sheikah warrior was worried.
It had all gone wrong after the Hero of Time had entered the temple beneath the lake. He had been in there for far too long. After a whole day had passed and still no sign of the Hero, the Sheikah had been planning to enter the temple to search for him, even though this would break the tradition. Truth to be told, the Sheikah had been ready to forsake everything he had been taught since he was old enough to stand on his own. Traditions and culture meant very little if there was no world in which to honour them. He had been relieved when he saw the lake fill up with water again and a blue light descended from the sky, forming a pillar on the platform on which the temple's symbol was proudly carved. A dark figure had come down the shaft of light, forming a very familiar silhouette.
Panic had made itself known, however, when the Hero had collapsed on the platform, his form bleeding and his clothes ripped to shreds. The Sheikah had rushed to the fallen Hero, immediately going to work on healing him, stripping him of his ruined tunic and leggings. When he was sure he had bandaged every single wound on his body, he had wrapped the Hero in a blanket and laid him down, starting a fire to warm his shivering form. There was little the Sheikah could do after apart from waiting for the Hero to wake up so he could be given a red potion that would speed up the healing.
What happened to you? The Sheikah thought. Surely the monster inside could not have done this? Fair enough, the Hero had emerged from both the Forest and Fire temples a bit worse for the wear, but always with a smile on his face and smug air of satisfaction around him. The Sheikah was embarrassed to think about this since he was not supposed to have any contact with the Hero apart from when he taught him the teleportation songs for the temples, but it was hard to leave after the Hero had entered them. There was just something about the golden-haired youth that was so alluring… therefore, the Sheikah had made a compromise. He did not reveal himself to the Hero when he finished the temples, he merely…observed him. His ancestors would probably disapprove, but his habit had truly meant something good this time. What could have happened if the Sheikah had not been there when the Hero emerged from the lake? Some of the wounds were quite serious, and the Hero would have died of blood loss if he had not stopped the bleeding and bandaged them up.
The Hero coughed, making the Sheikah leap to attention. It was a pained cough, one that spoke of agony beyond words. Within seconds, the Sheikah was crouched by the Hero's side, listening carefully for obstructed airways or worse.
"Are you awake, Hero?" he asked quietly, not wanting to disturb him if he hadn't awoken. Sleep is the best way to heal, he had been taught. He was about to sit back again, but a weak voice froze him.
"Hurts…" whispered the Hero, his voice a croak from sleep and injuries.
"I know, Hero," said the Sheikah gently. He picked up the backpack which lay forgotten by the fire and rummaged around inside until he found what he was looking for. He pulled out a bottle filled with a red liquid. He almost shuddered when he remembered what it tasted like. But if the Hero was to heal, then this was what would make it happen. He uncorked it, lifted the Hero's head carefully and put the bottle gently to his lips. "Drink this, Hero; it will make the pain go away faster."
Whimpering, the hero drank greedily of the bottle, wincing at the taste. It was at times like these that the Sheikah was reminded that the Great Hero of Time was really nothing more than a boy in an adult's body, his mind having been sealed away for seven long years until the Goddesses saw him fit to start his quest to rid the land of evil. It was at times like these that the Sheikah warrior realised he truly hated the Goddesses for what they had done to an innocent boy like this.
He had seen the Hero once when they were both young boys. The green-clad boy with the fairy had carefully entered the courtyard where the princess had been spying on the utterly evil man visiting the castle. The Sheikah had been watching from the roof. He may have been young, but had still been charged with protecting the princess.
Speaking of which, where was the Hero's fairy now? The little, glowing, blue creature had been missing when the Hero had arrived.
"Hero," the Sheikah said softly. "Where is your fairy?"
The Hero's eyes, which had been closed until now, shot open. "Navi!" the Hero exclaimed, and immediately began to cough, aggravating his wounds. The Sheikah waited until the fit calmed down, holding the Hero down gently but firmly with a hand on his chest. "She…she protected me from…my…my shadow."
"Shadow?" asked the Sheikah, raising a delicate eyebrow. He had heard of the Evil King creating duplicates of people and sending them to terrorise the countryside, but had he truly created one of the Hero himself? He could have, he reminded himself, he did create a copy of himself in the Forest Temple.
"Yes…shadow…" The Hero coughed again. "He…attacked me…in a room…filled with haze…I defeated him the first time, but he came back after…after I killed the monster…Navi saw him first…she protected me from his attack…but…she was so small…"
The Sheikah silenced him with a finger to his lips. The Sheikah understood. The fairy had sacrificed herself to save the Hero. The Sheikah thanked the fairy in his mind, praying that her spirit had gone to a better place. "And then you fought your shadow again?" he asked.
The Hero didn't answer, but nodded weakly. "He was so…strong."
"Just as strong as you, I expect," said the Sheikah. He saw that the Hero was nodding off to sleep again. "Rest, Hero. I will keep watch."
The Hero was gone almost immediately, but not before whispering: "Thank…you…Sheik."
Sheik smiled softly under his cowl. "You're welcome, Hero." He stood up and looked around. Now that the monster in the temple had been destroyed, the dark influence surrounding the lake was gone. Surely the Hero would be safe now? Just for a little while? He pulled out his lyre and plucked a small tune that the Hero did not know, one that would teleport Sheik inside the Water Temple. He closed his eyes as the coloured lights surrounded him, lifted him, took him inside the temple…
When he opened his eyes, he was aware he was neck-deep in water. The light from the lit torches bounced off the calm water and created beautiful patterns on the walls of the central chamber.
He swam to the pillar-like structure in the middle of the chamber and climbed onto the small walkway. He huffed, annoyed that he had gotten wet. The whole point of teleporting inside was to prevent himself getting wet. He shook his head and spied the raised platform on the other side of the room. A dragon's head with a familiar surface stared back at him. The Hero had to use a Longshot to get over there, but Sheik merely jumped over to it.
A gigantic door stood before him, next to which lay a large padlock and a pair of chains. A discarded key with a blue gem set inside lay next to it. Behind the door, a sharp incline with several bladed traps moving side to side presented a challenge…had they actually been moving. It seemed that with the evil inside gone, all the traps and creatures had either vanished or just…died.
The door at the top of the incline opened into a large room. It was square in shape, and spikes lined the walls. In the middle, a rectangular pool with four pillars jutting from the floor stood empty. Sheik nodded, content that the amoeba that had inhabited the pool was dead and gone. But this was not why he was there. He looked around more carefully, and saw something shining in the corner of the empty pool. He lowered himself to the floor inside and walked over. It was the fairy. Her little body shone brightly even in death. Her wings were torn apart, and an ugly cut went across her stomach. Sheik carefully picked hero body up in his hand, ready to teleport out of the temple when a hoarse snicker caught his attention.
Across from where the fairy had been, a formless mass of pure darkness was shifting and moving, two red eyes similar to his own staring at him. It snickered again. "So, the hero sent his slave to get his fairy…" it stated with a voice that was both far away and very close at the same time.
"Be silent, Shadow," said Sheik firmly and drew out a dagger. "Or I shall end you."
The mass snickered again. "Now I'm scared…if My Light could not kill me, then how can you?"
Sheik replaced the dagger again, knowing it was true. The Hero wielded The Master Sword, and only he could vanquish his own shadow. Ignoring the now laughing shadow, Sheik pulled out his lyre and played the Serenade of Water, which would bring him back to the sleeping Hero.
"I know what hurts My Light, Sheikah!" shouted the shadow as Sheik was swept away. "Next time, I'll be coming for you!"
To be continued…
So, how'd I do? How'd I do? I've been wanting to write this story for some time, but only recently got to working on it. Please leave a review with what you think.