Warnings: hints of boy/boy, some swearing, Sheik as his own male person(I know in the games he's a she)
Disclaimer: I don't own it, wish I did though.
Telepathy
She comes for him out of the burning heat of the midday desert, walking into the tiny Sheikah village at the stillest time of day. The only time when the precious few children didn't run the streets and the noise of women talking and laughing as they cooked or did laundry and all throughout managed to keep one wary eye on the children, was absent. The desert is their protector and nourisher but it does occasionally demand a price. The men aren't outside huddling in small groups tossing knifes back and forth in a careless display of talent that weaves a web of dazzling silver between them, a silent testament to their skill and their shared training, but that's not happening when she came.
Instead, there is only him, sitting in the scant shade of the common well- the focal point that the village- looking out into the expanse of sand and heat. They didn't speak to each other; there was no need. All each needed to know was discovered with a single glance. That glance was enough to see the Sheikah eye on each of their chests and the otherness about them that marked each to the other as a like mate, as god-touched and as such as shadows whose destiny is the light. The boy doesn't hesitate when she stops before him.
He's known since he was old enough to understand the words from the family that cares for him that he is other to them. His entire posture before her is one of silent acceptance of what she and the aura around her that speaks of power of destiny want from him. Her face is grim; emotionless as she stares down at him, then she abruptly turns away and heads back the way she came. He needs neither words nor gestures to know to follow her. Without even a glance back at the place he was raised, he follows after the woman he doesn't but does know, as she leads him into the desert and towards his ultimate fate.
He only sees her because after four years of only being allowed outside his small room deep in the depths of Hyrule Castle, to train for his task in the darkest shadows of the palace garden, his night vision has become exceptional. He recognizes her, from descriptions and the occasional night foray that Impa takes him on to familiarize him with certain places and people.
The pretty princess is curiously holding the delicate gold harp he was given to practice the melodies that will one day allow another to save them all, and he feels a brief flash of anger that she is able to simply come into the small sanctuary allowed him and go through what is his. That anger is immediately tucked away deep within him where he's hidden all those other thoughts and feelings that would make him an individual rather than destiny's appointed guide for the hero. He has learned that there is no room for himself when he must bow to the demands of a higher calling. When Impa glides out of the darkness the stand behind Zelda he is unsurprised and his red eyes stay expressionless.
He remains silent as they tell him that it has begun, that the monster is here even now and that the hero has begun his quest to claim the scared jewels so that the monster may be sealed away. He knows what they are going to telling him before the words are even said. It has begun and now he must disappear until Impa comes for him.
They leave silently and he doesn't let the anger he feels show when she, on her way out the door, pauses and studies him carefully, her ageless blue eyes measuring, noting, judging. And then she nods as if he were an outfit she's looked for flaws in and found acceptable. He knows as the door closes silent behind them that in a sense that is exactly what he is and instead of venting the anger at he doesn't what (destiny, fate, the goddesses- it doesn't matter the anger is worthless anyway), he picks up the rucksack that wasn't on his Spartan bed before and carefully begins to pack his harp and knives and all the other necessities to carry out his duty.
It is with a sense of detachment that he realizes that things aren't going to go quite as planned. He's in the sanctum of the Temple of Time and the moment that he's memorized dry, emotionless passages to be said to the awakened hero is here but he is hesitating. The young man before him doesn't look like a hero. He looks lost and impossibly young for all the horrors that Sheik knows that he has seen and soon will see.
Then the hero is smiling at the small ball of light that is his guardian fairy and for one brief moment Sheik wishes that smile were for him. It is warm and bright and makes the last seven years seem worthwhile if only because he got to see that one ray of joy. Then just as suddenly the lost youth and the smiling one too are gone as the hero whirls in Sheik's direction, sword drawn, shield up and now he looks like a hero. The sudden transformation from lost to happy to wary takes Sheiks breath away but he takes it for what it is, his own cue to begin his own task- to be the guide.
He watches the hero's eyes go from wary to confused as he gives the other blond the directions, hints and clues that will send him inevitably to his own personal clash with destiny and wonders what it must be like for him to wake up in such a different world than the one he went to sleep in. The first part of his task complete Sheik went to throw the deku nut that would allow him to disappear without it being seen where he left to, but is forestalled by the hero's asking for his name. As he answers he looks into those still somehow innocent eyes and feels something in his chest jerk. The hero's eyes widen and Sheik thinks that what ever that was he felt it too, but before the question that he sees in those eyes can be voiced the nut is cast and he is gone.
He watches as the hero looks around confusion evident in every line of his body before the fairy calls for him, and they leave together. Perched on a thick beam in the shadowy darkness of the temple rafters he wishes he could have heard the question he saw in the hero's eyes if only to know for certain that it wasn't only him that felt that, but he knows that for the question to be voiced here in the center of the sages power would be suicidal. Impa would hear of it eventually and then… he chooses not delve further along that line of thought but instead takes the scant time before he has to report to the princess and her guardian to reflect on something he has only just realized.
In the past eleven years he has been taught to revere the hero, to admire him and to guide him. It wasn't, however, until he saw his face light up with a smile so out of place in the dark world outside, that the shadow-born boy had learned to love the hero.
He can't help but wonder if love and this one in particular were never meant to be his.
After all, from the time he was young until the present, he has no memories of love. He has memories of gratitude, of hate, of indifference and sorrow and pity. But none of love, and he can't remember a single time when love was ever paired with him. He knows- as do any in Hyrule- of the stories of the goddesses and the gifts they gave in their boundless love but he also knows that no one has ever loved him.
He knows that love is not something that the shapers of his fate consider necessary for him to fulfill his duty. Still he has learned to trust in the will of the triad and as he soundlessly disappears from the Temple, he trusts that despite the wishes of his fates' masters, the dictators of his destiny- he is sure have a hand in this strange new emotion. Therefore he will cherish and keep it to himself for a bit longer, he's curious as to where it will lead him.
0- Done and done. -0 A review would be appreciated,even just a short comment will suffice, please.