Artificial light didn't agree with Marth. He maintained the medieval life style of bedding soon after sun down and waking around sun up, but nobody sleeps for as long as the twelve hour nights the world of trophies held. Well, I shouldn't think that. The other Smashers are a diverse lot. It seemed nobody shared his peculiar sleep pattern of humanity aligned with their natural circadian rhythm, thus he woke every night between his two cycles of sleep and wandered the halls, donning sunglasses whenever he approached rooms whose previous occupants had carelessly left the lights on. Maybe they don't turn off the lights by habit because they think that I'll turn them off... no—they probably don't consider it in the first place, much less me: It's Master Core's power this place uses. I'll ease his burden again.
But, he sighed all too deeply, his broad shoulders heaving. Perhaps it was loneliness. Granted, there were no shortage of Smashers that often stayed up late, normally the futuristic ones like the good Captain Falcon, probably—what was that word, evolved?—past a normal human's sleep, or the mysterious Meta Knight, who seemed to follow no patterns at all. Have I ever even seen him eat?
He couldn't, rather, wouldn't hold conversation long with the few he met at night, partly because of their unintentional insistence on disrupting the timing of the watch, as Master Hand called it, or the pattern of his sleep hormones. He knew Zelda shared his pattern, and he had great desire to speak with her due to their similar natures and her wise council, but she holed herself up in her room, reading a book by Din's fire. As for her other, separate self, Marth thought he saw Sheik with the previously mentioned Knight once.
He found himself in the courtyard, its greenery was overly saturated, and the light of the stars and crescent moon gave it darkness while giving the stone a paleness. Such beauty, I'm glad I get to appreciate it again. I'll sit for a while. For all the times that Master Hand had assured them they'd all been in this place, or a place like this, before, none of them could remember with any clarity. I'm not sure if that's disconcerting or comforting.
“Well, here's the Hero-King. What're you doing here, handsome?” A black silhouette floated out from behind the fountain in front of Marth.
He blinked at the humanoid. “Mm, thinking.”
As it hovered closer, it went from a shade to a solid with dully glowing runes along the dark portions of its body. She was an impish creature in stature, but her shape was very much a woman's. “What about?” Her hands went to her generous hips.
If Marth was a sloucher, he'd have straightened up, so he stood instead, and instinctually offered his hand. “Ah... forgive me, are you a newcomer? I don't recall you, but you seem to know me.”
She took it, or rather, put her hand in his as it dwarfed hers, and shook it. “Eee hee, Midna's my name... I'm a newcomer, but I'm stuck to one of those trophy things you Smashers proper grab in a fight... say, why don't you like 'item' matches?”
“I don't mind them, truly.” It occurred to him to return to his seat. He deliberately adopted a more relaxed posture, and offered the rest of the cushioned bench to Midna. “I don't fight as much as some of the others to begin with, and the people who do wish to battle seem to want honorable duels.” He turned his body to face the other. “Midna, right?” He smiled, and she giggled again.
“Yep! Now, Marth, I'll ask again... What are you doing out here all by your lonesome?” She put a hand on the cushion, leaning towards him. “You've got a good relationship with everyone else, they all like you... is it just that you can't find anyone else to share the time?”
An eyebrow raised. “I suppose. And what about yourself?”
“I'm a princess of the twilight.” She put an elbow on the bench's shoulder, raised her slender arm and looked up it at the night. “I like the night. Besides, the Link I knew—oh, that's how I know about you too, I asked Zelda to see if there was anyone interesting. This is all circumstance, of course... She's different too. Master Hand did say we were not really specific people, more like incarnations or representations of champions...” She looked down the couch at him, and stretched out her legs out to use his knee as a rest. “It's kinda nice we're not bound by our past... right? But it's scary to have to make new connections...”
He remembered the nights during the watch with Caeda, wishing it was more than a fantasy. “I won't get to see her again.”
“Your Hero-Queen?” She smirked, having seen his reaction when his blue eyes became distant. Even though he was staring straight at me. “I thought so.” That playful giggle came again as Marth's face turned red.