He was dragged into the throne room and forced down onto his knees before the king. His helmet had been cast aside. Edan hands gripped his hair tightly, coercing him to look into that bearded, devilish face.

"Why do you put this loathsome thing in my presence?" demanded Kearney. "Why did you not leave him in the dungeon, where he belongs?"

"He tried to escape, my liege," Edan hissed. "His plot was foiled, however, by the superior intelligence of my men. Have you no suitable punishment for him?"

Kearney rose and moved his considerable bulk to where his prisoner was kneeling. He motioned for Edan to move away. The captain of the guard complied, and the king leaned down closer. His lips brushed against Link’s ear as he spoke, making the Hylian shiver.

"Perhaps chains are not enough to keep you in, my slippery little fish," he whispered. "Is there a method of imprisonment you would prefer?"

"Torture me all you want," Link said evenly, turning his head to meet the king’s eye. "I will not cease my attempts to flee this place, even if it means the loss of vital faculties."

"Vital faculties?" Kearney repeated. "What if I gouged you eyes out? It would be a shame – after all, they are such beautiful eyes – but what would you do? Would you smell your way out of the country? Or if I ripped your tongue out of your mouth, so that you could no longer spew your deceptions to my soldiers?"

Link regarded the king coldly, but refused to speak. Kearney smiled wolfishly and returned to his throne. He nodded to Edan, who strode forward.

"Yes, my lord?" said he.

"I have a suitable punishment for his lack of co-operation," said the king. "Perhaps it will teach him to behave properly in the company of royalty."

"What is it?" Edan questioned.

Kearney’s eyes flickered in Link’s direction, and he gave another wolfish smile before answering:

"Take him to the melting pot."

Caoimhe, who had been standing in silence in the corner, gasped, her hand flying to her mouth in horror. Link looked around to see that the other occupants of the room looked uncomfortable, as if they were prepared to disgorge on the floor. Edan, on the other hand, was grinning eagerly as he hauled the Hylian to his feet.

"You!" he said, pointing to the guards lined up against the wall. "Come with me. He’ll likely put up a good fight, so I’ll need you to help me hold him down."

"My liege!" Caoimhe cried as she ran forward. "Is this really necessary?"

"Of course it is," Kearney snapped. "Now stand aside, woman, and ask no more stupid questions."

Edan pushed Link out of the throne room. Three or four soldiers and Caoimhe followed. They all trooped down the long passageways, past row upon row of cells.

"What is the melting pot?" Link ventured to ask.

Edan gave him a sharp yank on his hair. "Who gave you permission to speak? And do you not like surprises?"

"Not when they come from sadistic bastards like you," he muttered.

He was rewarded with a punch to the mouth. He stumbled back against one of the soldiers, blood dribbling from his broken lip. He scowled at the captain of the guard, but said nothing.

"Edan, stop!" Caoimhe cried. "What you’re about to do to him is bad enough. Must you put him through even more pain?"

Edan whirled on her. "He deserves it. Don’t question my motives."

Caoimhe’s chin trembled. Link saw tears in her eyes, but felt no sympathy. She was with them, after all, and though she had tried to defend him, they had been feeble attempts.

They continued down the long passageways. It seemed to Link that they were going deeper and deeper underground. His heart was thrumming painful beats in his chest, but he refused to let his captors have the satisfaction of seeing his fear.

They eventually made it to a huge chamber. Its walls were made of heavy stone, but various torches and coal pits made the place glow a dull orange. It was so hot that Link felt sweat spring up on his forehead, back and underarms.

On the walls hung various knives, hooks and meat cleavers that Link hoped would never go near his skin. There were also whips – braided, ropy ones and leather with studs – but he supposed he could handle those better than said meat cleavers.

"Remove his armor," Edan said to the soldiers. "He can keep his pants this time. Goddess forbid Caoimhe should see another naked man."

Caoimhe blushed. The soldiers commenced the process of removing Link of the majority of his clothes. He did not struggle. He was too busy watching Edan unsheathe his sword.

"So, you still have not figured out what the melting pot is?" asked Edan.

"I haven’t a clue," Link growled.

"Sit him down here," Edan ordered, pointing with his sword to a wooden chair next to a coal pit. "You see, my good man, I am going to leave my blade in this fire for two to three minutes. Hold him, soldiers!"

He was forced back down into the chair before he had even begun to try to escape. He growled and managed to kick a soldier in the nose, but was reprimanded with a punch to the temple. Caoimhe screamed, and he slid down in the chair, blood pounding in his ears.

"Fool," Edan hissed.

He shoved the blade further into the coals. Link was propped up straight in the chair. The soldiers had him pinned so securely that he could barely twitch a muscle. He watched as Edan turned the blade in the coals again.

"You look so eager," he commented.

"And you look like you were born in a ditch," Link shot back, his voice weak.

Edan’s brow darkened in fury. He slapped the Hero of Time hard in the face. He reeled, but managed to look up at the captain of the guard, a strange grin on his lips.

"You’re probably the bastard son of a no-good whore who wasn’t smart enough to make her money another way," he finished.

Edan grabbed him by the hair, threatening to beat him within an inch of his life. Link laughed.

"That’s right!" he said, nodding drunkenly. "Hit me! Beat me senseless! It’ll only lessen the pain in the end!"

"You’re insane," Edan said in disgust. But he relented anyway. "But like I said earlier: there aren’t enough ways in this world to inflict upon you the pain you deserve. Hold him still, you fools!"

He grabbed Link’s face in one hand and pressed the red-hot blade against his forehead. Steam rose, hissing, from the place that steel and skin touched. Link screamed in agony, trying with all the strength he had left in him to wriggle himself free. It was no use. The stench of charred skin burned his nose, pain searing through his skull, behind his eyes, blinding him.

It seemed like an eternity before Edan finally released him, but in reality, it only lasted for a few seconds. He sprawled across the floor, half groaning, half sobbing. He went to jam his hand against his burned flesh, and shoved Caoimhe away when she tried to prevent him from doing so.

"Let him melt his hand to his face!" Edan shrieked. "It will do nothing but entertain me more!"

Caoimhe grabbed Link’s wrist and held onto it firmly. His groans had quieted down to whimpers, though the flesh of his forehead was still bubbling. She had treated many wounds like these before, and she knew they took quite some time to heal. She sighed and held his head in her lap, stroking his hair in an attempt to soothe him, at least somewhat.

Edan threw down his sword, a triumphant light in his eyes. He stalked out of the room and another soldier carefully took up the sword and set it aside so it could cool down. Then he, along with the other three soldiers that had accompanied them to the dungeons, left. Caoimhe glanced down at the man lying across her lap. He had blacked out.

Which, she supposed, was better than spending a sleepless, painful night in consciousness.

Author’s Notes: Poor Link! I’m so mean (huggles him)

Snoopy, it IS possible to hate Zelda, because she speaks and acts stupid during the game. I can’t hate Link, because he doesn’t speak, which means he doesn’t have a personality. But Zelda can talk, and when she does, she pisses me off.