Categories > Games > Zelda > Childhood Ashes
It is long after their breaths have calmed down, the river's water soothing their throat, when she looks at him again.
"This is an amazing mask you carry here," she murmurs.
This time, the weariness, their intimacy and maybe the milk work together to dull his vigilance as he let words flow, his voice barely above the river's echo. In one hour, though the violence of the ordeal is almost lost to his memory, he spills everything about his days in Termina.
When she looks so moved and angered at the Skull Kid, it is too late to chide himself for his carelessness. When he tries to defend the imp, he definitely does not expect her to cry – he is so shocked he has to double check to be sure the trails on her cheeks are made of tears. He feels clumsy and foolish for saying so much.
"I should have been there," she rasps.
"I am glad you weren’t," he murmurs a little appalled before setting back into a blunt, easy going tone. "Had you been, I would have ended far too worried to do anything."
High over them, birds lazily cross the empty skies, already returning to their nests...and their silent flight slowly tie a knot in his guts.
.
It is at his last words that she hears confidence and strength sound weak in his voice whenever he speaks about the topic. For a moment fear pass over hear heart and she wonders how it could have felt to live Termina.
She looks at him as he glances up to the darkening sky, and for a moment, she only sees the adult in him. She feels a ridiculous yearning to make him feel welcome, to show him how she cares. She is not sure if it is for him or for her own peace anymore. She stops thinking. She wishes...
She had sent him back to another era, dooming the land and herself to cope with a timeline without him. There is no way back from this kind of decision.
It does not mean she cannot still plan one or two things for the other world, through.
The next thing he knows, she grabs the long tattered cloth he keeps around his shoulder and makes a bundle with it before he can react. She barely thinks about trying to erase his memories correctly this time, but she never had the right to mess with something so personal in the first place.
"This," she murmurs as she presses the fabric between two glowing blue hands, "This will even things in your era. As soon as it touches her skin..." But he still looks at it confused so she moves to close her hands around of his: "It will help her remember."
His breath quickens and his blue gaze becomes wistful as he seems to wallow in the idea. She feels her heart on the tip of her tongue.
"I am sorry."
He scrutinizes her expression for a while then stands up and it is his turn to lift a hand to her face now, and carefully, he smooths out the dark circles under her eyes with a thumb.
He stands close, invading her personal space without a second thought, as if to soothe a child. Is it how he acts with her in his era? Well, it is time he remember she is an adult here.
When he offers a strong smile, she withdraws, turns away and sighs in discontentment. When she finds his eyes again, they hold each other's gaze without a word.
.
He takes in her appearance, the last memory he wants to keep from a future that is not his. His eyes slowly drift toward her lips and his breath hitches when she sets a hand on his shoulder, drawing him in. He thinks he feels her other hand rummaging through his purse, but any thoughts desert his mind the next second as the whole world freezes beneath one sensation.
It takes him awhile to realize what is happening when she has already pulled away, leaving only the ghost of a chaste kiss.
Once again, she looks serious and collected, but he has been used to Sheik. Now, it is easy to read the nervousness hanging between her creased brows and the forced rhythm of her calm breath. His grin broadens.
He hesitates, but her face is still close and he can barely think when he connect their foreheads, then their lips again, with a passion that takes them both aback.
Sheik yelps, but having her against his lips is something he can appreciate now. Especially after he pursued the Sheikah's shadow from temple to temple, only to grasp threads of her voice and way too much Deku smoke-
She does not reciprocate, yet she still does not draw away... and he discovers a few things about her lips, flustered by the intimacy, and way too comfortable in her faint lavender smell. So he slides his arms up her shoulders, locks wrists behind her neck. Her moan is short, plain; he forgets about his body. He does not need to be a man for her; Sheik does not look the type to want one anyway. Only one fact remains clear in his mind. Zelda is the only person that would ever understand what he has become. No one, he reminds himself, will be able to fulfill him like she can. But the long known fact is turning into a lavender scented urgency- He can help rebuild this country, he can be useful here!- In less than an hour he will go back to a world where he is a monster, a misfit at best.
He just clings to the instant, to the reality of lavender and the name of Sheik. Slowly yet fiercely, he gives his farewell to the future that is not his.
She pulls away, and it's strange how her beauty seems to be more wondrous the more she is unattainable.
His Triforce is of little use against the prospect of never seeing Zelda again. In sudden panic, he considers, gropes for other routes, he thinks about showing her his Deity transformation - and blushes at the ridiculous idea.
He wants to stay; he wants to love her; he wants his other body back. He wants to resent her for driving him away, locking him in a purposeless world. He wants to die right now by her side...
His mind is already lost.
She open and closes her mouth a few times before she speaks "It cannot-" but when his fingers graze her lips in a silent plea, slowly, she realizes and blushes. No words can fit at this point of their story.
He... He swears he is not trembling - much - when he takes his hand away. He manages to build the shadow of a smile before a sigh breaks out, and feeling his throat constrict, he stutters something about Epona waiting for him in the woods.
The hand sliding away from his shoulder seems to slow time down with the gesture. Her face is a veil of sadness and distance when she nods solemnly - because she is the Queen and because she is Zelda and she will not let him worry about two Hyrules.
.
They are in front of the portal. Somewhere near, two rather confused Eponas nudge each other in curiosity.
He forces out a dry chuckle, silently readying to depart for good. Through the mask of a Queen, her eyes are a mirror for the wild loneliness and tearing grief filling him. She...she acts strong and sure and just her usual after all. Her courage is one of his favorite things... and he is filled with a warming pride.
Before he turns to go, he sees her kneel out of the corner of his eye and he looks away, doing his best to delay their final obligation to time.
"You have to promise me, Link." He faces her again. "You will give it to her."
"I understand."
She warns him with a shake of her head. "Your promise."
He tries to cover a sigh behind his kindest smile. "I promise, Zelda." He calls for the horse and she is on her feet again the last time he turns to see her, and he has to lift up his eyes again.
He waves...and passes through.
(A weak flicker of hope lingers in the back of his mind. What if she fails to close the portal? Perhaps she will need him to protect it...)
.
He is in his era this time.
It is not much of a surprise to see that the portal has disappeared. Her magic is strong and dexterous. Only air and the faraway plains are left to be seen beyond tree trunks. He walks on, trying to quell useless feelings.
He is surprised to feel relief at the sight of the clear present sky. He plays for a long time with the magic-imbued fabric at his neck.
Handing the cloak to her to find his Lady back is something he daydreams about a couple times: no more than a volatile wish.
Sadness feels like another older mantle that gives him some comfort in its familiarity. He lets it drape around him, but the memory of the Hyrule he left for the second time is not ridden with bitterness anymore. This time, he had been able to say goodbye, and he feel immensely grateful to the Goddesses for it. And for Zelda as well.
For a moment sadness threatens to overwhelm him but he prevails. He brushes Epona's mane and gently send her toward the ranch.
As the pony trots away, his heart swells with nostalgia then pride at the memory of the woman that time always managed to seclude from him. But his renewed will lessens the burning affection and stifles its urgency.
.
One morning, he builds a fire and drops the cloth in it. He stands so close that he can taste the ashes in the back of his throat.
What he knows for sure is that he will not rip her mind of innocence and tear her childhood apart simply because he cannot have his. Selfishness has a limit, he decides. He will never throw regrets and sadness in the eyes of the Princess.
More days pass and he thinks about far away travels, deadly perils and lost causes. He will not bring Epona this time. Navi's name raises fond memories, some yearning, but the fairy is no goal for him anymore. No turning back. He will destroy the path right behind his steps if needed; he will make sure not to find his way again.
But...maybe he does not have to bring regret along.
He does not know whether that makes him more courageous or more cowardly, but he wants- he needs to confront her.
He owns it to her.
Just one last time. Before really disappearing.
It sounds reasonable... ...does it not? The spirits from Termina stay silent in his head, but he can feel the Fierce One observing as his feet set to walk on their own.
~.
"This is an amazing mask you carry here," she murmurs.
This time, the weariness, their intimacy and maybe the milk work together to dull his vigilance as he let words flow, his voice barely above the river's echo. In one hour, though the violence of the ordeal is almost lost to his memory, he spills everything about his days in Termina.
When she looks so moved and angered at the Skull Kid, it is too late to chide himself for his carelessness. When he tries to defend the imp, he definitely does not expect her to cry – he is so shocked he has to double check to be sure the trails on her cheeks are made of tears. He feels clumsy and foolish for saying so much.
"I should have been there," she rasps.
"I am glad you weren’t," he murmurs a little appalled before setting back into a blunt, easy going tone. "Had you been, I would have ended far too worried to do anything."
High over them, birds lazily cross the empty skies, already returning to their nests...and their silent flight slowly tie a knot in his guts.
.
It is at his last words that she hears confidence and strength sound weak in his voice whenever he speaks about the topic. For a moment fear pass over hear heart and she wonders how it could have felt to live Termina.
She looks at him as he glances up to the darkening sky, and for a moment, she only sees the adult in him. She feels a ridiculous yearning to make him feel welcome, to show him how she cares. She is not sure if it is for him or for her own peace anymore. She stops thinking. She wishes...
She had sent him back to another era, dooming the land and herself to cope with a timeline without him. There is no way back from this kind of decision.
It does not mean she cannot still plan one or two things for the other world, through.
The next thing he knows, she grabs the long tattered cloth he keeps around his shoulder and makes a bundle with it before he can react. She barely thinks about trying to erase his memories correctly this time, but she never had the right to mess with something so personal in the first place.
"This," she murmurs as she presses the fabric between two glowing blue hands, "This will even things in your era. As soon as it touches her skin..." But he still looks at it confused so she moves to close her hands around of his: "It will help her remember."
His breath quickens and his blue gaze becomes wistful as he seems to wallow in the idea. She feels her heart on the tip of her tongue.
"I am sorry."
He scrutinizes her expression for a while then stands up and it is his turn to lift a hand to her face now, and carefully, he smooths out the dark circles under her eyes with a thumb.
He stands close, invading her personal space without a second thought, as if to soothe a child. Is it how he acts with her in his era? Well, it is time he remember she is an adult here.
When he offers a strong smile, she withdraws, turns away and sighs in discontentment. When she finds his eyes again, they hold each other's gaze without a word.
.
He takes in her appearance, the last memory he wants to keep from a future that is not his. His eyes slowly drift toward her lips and his breath hitches when she sets a hand on his shoulder, drawing him in. He thinks he feels her other hand rummaging through his purse, but any thoughts desert his mind the next second as the whole world freezes beneath one sensation.
It takes him awhile to realize what is happening when she has already pulled away, leaving only the ghost of a chaste kiss.
Once again, she looks serious and collected, but he has been used to Sheik. Now, it is easy to read the nervousness hanging between her creased brows and the forced rhythm of her calm breath. His grin broadens.
He hesitates, but her face is still close and he can barely think when he connect their foreheads, then their lips again, with a passion that takes them both aback.
Sheik yelps, but having her against his lips is something he can appreciate now. Especially after he pursued the Sheikah's shadow from temple to temple, only to grasp threads of her voice and way too much Deku smoke-
She does not reciprocate, yet she still does not draw away... and he discovers a few things about her lips, flustered by the intimacy, and way too comfortable in her faint lavender smell. So he slides his arms up her shoulders, locks wrists behind her neck. Her moan is short, plain; he forgets about his body. He does not need to be a man for her; Sheik does not look the type to want one anyway. Only one fact remains clear in his mind. Zelda is the only person that would ever understand what he has become. No one, he reminds himself, will be able to fulfill him like she can. But the long known fact is turning into a lavender scented urgency- He can help rebuild this country, he can be useful here!- In less than an hour he will go back to a world where he is a monster, a misfit at best.
He just clings to the instant, to the reality of lavender and the name of Sheik. Slowly yet fiercely, he gives his farewell to the future that is not his.
She pulls away, and it's strange how her beauty seems to be more wondrous the more she is unattainable.
His Triforce is of little use against the prospect of never seeing Zelda again. In sudden panic, he considers, gropes for other routes, he thinks about showing her his Deity transformation - and blushes at the ridiculous idea.
He wants to stay; he wants to love her; he wants his other body back. He wants to resent her for driving him away, locking him in a purposeless world. He wants to die right now by her side...
His mind is already lost.
She open and closes her mouth a few times before she speaks "It cannot-" but when his fingers graze her lips in a silent plea, slowly, she realizes and blushes. No words can fit at this point of their story.
He... He swears he is not trembling - much - when he takes his hand away. He manages to build the shadow of a smile before a sigh breaks out, and feeling his throat constrict, he stutters something about Epona waiting for him in the woods.
The hand sliding away from his shoulder seems to slow time down with the gesture. Her face is a veil of sadness and distance when she nods solemnly - because she is the Queen and because she is Zelda and she will not let him worry about two Hyrules.
.
They are in front of the portal. Somewhere near, two rather confused Eponas nudge each other in curiosity.
He forces out a dry chuckle, silently readying to depart for good. Through the mask of a Queen, her eyes are a mirror for the wild loneliness and tearing grief filling him. She...she acts strong and sure and just her usual after all. Her courage is one of his favorite things... and he is filled with a warming pride.
Before he turns to go, he sees her kneel out of the corner of his eye and he looks away, doing his best to delay their final obligation to time.
"You have to promise me, Link." He faces her again. "You will give it to her."
"I understand."
She warns him with a shake of her head. "Your promise."
He tries to cover a sigh behind his kindest smile. "I promise, Zelda." He calls for the horse and she is on her feet again the last time he turns to see her, and he has to lift up his eyes again.
He waves...and passes through.
(A weak flicker of hope lingers in the back of his mind. What if she fails to close the portal? Perhaps she will need him to protect it...)
.
He is in his era this time.
It is not much of a surprise to see that the portal has disappeared. Her magic is strong and dexterous. Only air and the faraway plains are left to be seen beyond tree trunks. He walks on, trying to quell useless feelings.
He is surprised to feel relief at the sight of the clear present sky. He plays for a long time with the magic-imbued fabric at his neck.
Handing the cloak to her to find his Lady back is something he daydreams about a couple times: no more than a volatile wish.
Sadness feels like another older mantle that gives him some comfort in its familiarity. He lets it drape around him, but the memory of the Hyrule he left for the second time is not ridden with bitterness anymore. This time, he had been able to say goodbye, and he feel immensely grateful to the Goddesses for it. And for Zelda as well.
For a moment sadness threatens to overwhelm him but he prevails. He brushes Epona's mane and gently send her toward the ranch.
As the pony trots away, his heart swells with nostalgia then pride at the memory of the woman that time always managed to seclude from him. But his renewed will lessens the burning affection and stifles its urgency.
.
One morning, he builds a fire and drops the cloth in it. He stands so close that he can taste the ashes in the back of his throat.
What he knows for sure is that he will not rip her mind of innocence and tear her childhood apart simply because he cannot have his. Selfishness has a limit, he decides. He will never throw regrets and sadness in the eyes of the Princess.
More days pass and he thinks about far away travels, deadly perils and lost causes. He will not bring Epona this time. Navi's name raises fond memories, some yearning, but the fairy is no goal for him anymore. No turning back. He will destroy the path right behind his steps if needed; he will make sure not to find his way again.
But...maybe he does not have to bring regret along.
He does not know whether that makes him more courageous or more cowardly, but he wants- he needs to confront her.
He owns it to her.
Just one last time. Before really disappearing.
It sounds reasonable... ...does it not? The spirits from Termina stay silent in his head, but he can feel the Fierce One observing as his feet set to walk on their own.
~.
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