♥ So Long, Lonesome

[tehnrija]

["I've never been to the forest before," she said.]

[So the Sheikah took her there, scaling treetops, leaping from branch to branch as he reassured the princess that no, they would not fall. Once deep enough in the forest, he returned to the ground and allowed Zelda to take lead, to wander wherever her feet would carry her.]

[By midday they were

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[theeyeoftruth]

[Being back here, and being able to explore at leisure is an almost bewildering to the Sheikah, perched in a tree with no real need to be. Lacking work is strange, lacking purpose stranger still, all but uncomfortable in fact. He's used to fending off his own brooding with work, of which he currently has none

[tehnrija]

[Zelda feels no need for stealth either, but her guardian is ever attentive, lest they be caught off guard by monsters lurking in the shadows or spotted by someone unfavorable. The princess is startled at the voice - that all too familiar voice - but Sheik holds still, preventing her from rising quickly.]

Is it? [He's holding three of the delicate flowers in one hand as he stands, his movements slow and calm. A bit of surprise can be seen in his eyes, though, as he beholds the other Sheik. He cannot conceal that.]

[Sheik, who- He looks like... Them. Another lookalike.]

[theeyeoftruth]

[He can almost hear her there, can almost see her as though very far away, through a thousand sheets of frosted glass. Perhaps this Sheik was brought here in the midst of his quest? He doesn't linger on it, instead holds his gaze fleetingly, and then lets it drop back to the flower. But he does wonder, is he the first this Sheikah has seen of himself? He does not have to know those eyes so well to see the shock.]

Few things hold so much mixed symbolism as a snowdrop. [His voice is light enough, conversational, but thoughtful. Part of his mind is elsewhere, a thousand years away, with people long buried.]

And stories brindled both in sadness and in blood, and yet, no matter the story... The true meaning of it remains the same... Hope.

[tehnrija]

[Pulled into this ghost of a kingdom before they could even leave the starting line.

Testing the waters, Sheik hopes this stranger-yet-not is different from the first he encountered. He sees nothing but shame and detachment in being unable to speak their own language.]

Hope and consolation. [He finishes, feeding off one of Zelda's passing thoughts - a recollection of one of her studies that mentioned this flower. Sheik's voice remains conversational as well, but there is an underlying sense of dubiety in those blood red eyes.]

[theeyeoftruth]

[And for the uncertainty in those mirror-image eyes, he cannot blame him. Strange, this one looks more like him than the others, if scarce shorter (which is oddly refreshing, petty as it is to admit). He has the braid, the same outfit...]

Just so.

[The Sheikah comes easily to him, always has despite years and years of rare, if any, usage. He looks at him again, at him, through him, to a glimmer of blue. And he holds out the flower, his voice perhaps kind, to one who knows the nuances of it, and he speaks both to princess he knows is there and to her shadow.]

Important things, would you not say?

[tehnrija]

[Zelda speaks this time, but Sheik transforms her words as they fall forth. It is now more apparent that his dialect is unlike Impa's; it is older, antiquated... of a time long passed. He may be able to mask the princess' inability to use Sheikah, but this, he cannot.]

In times of strife and obscurity, yes... but how does this kingdom fair?

[Is he watching us?

"Us"?

I'm not quite sure, but...]

[theeyeoftruth]

[He notes the difference in their Sheikah, pondering over it. It's far more alike to his than Impa's was. Strange... One version of himself had a life vastly different than his own, but this one? Were they closer than he thought?

His eyes were downcast for a moment, idly twirling the snowdrop through his fingers.]

The circumstances are not so dire as they might be, in truth, not from my knowledge. But I, too, am not quite... Well-accustomed to this place.

[A half lie. He knows it as intimately as he could anything, whilst finding it entirely alien.]

The King of Evil moves here, but... The greatest power in play seems to be... our loss.

[tehnrija]

[Flowers in hand are held close to his chest. In slow unison, both princess and shadow approach the other Sheik, the former drawn by curiosity and the latter drawn in wonder. How many years have passed since the young man has had contact with any of his people?

Zelda feels a twinge of loneliness that is buried before she can take another breath.]

I heard word of this king on the desert winds... Ganondorf, was it not? [Half-truths and half-lies. This was only the beginning of their entanglement of trust and deception. Even amongst Sheik's people, whom he thought he'd never see again, to a man with the same face as him-

...Ganondorf truly is here. The horrifying tower that stood in place of what was once her home... it was his.

Then we must find the forest child.]

[theeyeoftruth]

[Edging a little closer is a positive sign, as far as Sheik is concerned. If this Sheikah was anything like himself, after all, it could just have easily been a knife in hand as opposed to a posey of snowdrops. He was quiet, bowing his head in a sombre nod, letting the flower fall from his hand to the carpet on the floor.]

Ganondorf. He who would reduce fair Hyrule to ghosts and ruin, though I doubt you need to be reminded of that.

[Curious again, he tilted his head.]

For how long have you been here?

[tehnrija]

[He senses despair. Zelda attempts to block out the damage that vile Gerudo wrought, and so Sheik helps her.]

Over two weeks, Brother.

[He kneels down briefly to pick up the abandoned flower, gathering it with the ones already in his hand. Standing closer, he is still watching the other Sheik before him.] And you?

[theeyeoftruth]

[He watches him, thoughtful, quietly measuring. The presence of the other is no stronger, and yet, he knows it is there, knows she is there. He wonders if Zelda was alive and awake and watching from within him, all those years ago, or if, like Link, she slept. Sometimes, he'd been vaguely aware there was something else there, but...

Well, he'd known so little, then. His voice is soft, smooth. He's glad to be using his own tongue. It still comes easier to him than the rest.]

Not yet two turns of the moon, in truth. But it seems we are all strangers here.

[tehnrija]

[The princess is wholly one with her protector; her ears and eyes only shut when his do. She is watching the Sheik outside of herself, and she is both confused and a little frightened. Was he, too, protecting a Zelda, or was he all alone?

Different times and different kingdoms. To think such a thing were possible. Where were the Goddesses now?]

Have you found any familiar faces, other than your own?

[He rolls the stalk of one flower in-between his thumb and index finger. The snowdrop spins slowly, 'round and 'round, but he does not watch it.]

[theeyeoftruth]

[He contemplates the question briefly before nodding.]

All have been recognisable, in one way or another.

[He watches the other play with the snowdrop stem, eyes following the slow blur of white before they move back up to meet a red as bright as blood new spilled.]

A few I recognise from the mirror. A Chosen Hero. A Princess of Hyrule. A young Zora princess. A... female form of the Hero of Time. And... The Black King himself.

[tehnrija]

['Round and 'round... and then the flower slows to a stop. The look in the Sheikah's eyes is contemplative. Ganondorf, they would have to avoid at all costs. But-]

What is this you speak of? Heroes?

[theeyeoftruth]

[The question gives him pause, makes him wonder, but he inclines his head in a nod.]

Link, the Hero of Time... Female, as I said. I have not met another of him, though...

[He thought of his own back in World's End, the one he'd failed, ached briefly at the memories of a place more home than this constructed Hyrule - which he still could not help but attribute to a king of crimson instead of black...]

And a descendant of his.