Author's Notes: Just a short piece that stuck in my head. As always, flames will only amuse me.

Disclaimer: If I owned it, I'd be rich and Sheik would exist as his own character in his own right. That being said, I don't and suing me is a waste of time and money.

Riven

By: BlackLadyCharon

She knows, even as she lifts ragged royal skirts and races to put any Ordon goat or Oocaa to shame, that she will not make it in time. The drum beats in her head, her heart and his lungs and the hands of the demon in the Temple and the feet of the one they both love dancing on it, all of them telling her the same thing.

Too late too late too late too…

His frame is lying under a tree, where he dragged himself after the ambush and the killing and the wounding. He still breathes, but it's shallow, gasping, his fingers clutching the killing wound and his blade and the miraculously unshattered lyre while his wrappings lay in a sweat and blood stained mess around his face. He doesn't see her fall and scramble in the mud, royal skirts becoming layered in it and the blood and bile and gore that creates it, barely feels her lift him up and cradle him, the lyre slipping from his hand as she clasps it and holds it to her breasts. He tilts his head towards her, even as images of light and shadow and pure untainted glory that is where he will soon be blot her out.

We must not fail we must not fail we must not fail we must not…

Her sobs are quiet, restrained, but real. He is going, their shadow that connects them, the ancient but not soul that they have both relied on to shelter and guide and know what they need, and she does not want that. If he leaves, there will be no one to know the final song, to teach their beloved what he must know to face the Iron Knuckle and the Two Witches who are One. And she will be alone, with only the other light to comfort her. Light to light cuts and burns and stabs itself all without meaning to. That is why he exists, the Shadow to keep their sharp edges blunted and the intensity of their souls muted to where they can survive each other. His fingers tighten against hers, nothing like their usual grip.

"I want to say goodbye. Will you let me Ride you?"

Sacred yet profane sacred yet profane sacred yet profane sacred…

He knows what he asks is both right and wrong at once. For her to allow him to Ride, to use his magic and her body to stave off being called home to the Shadows for a fleeting period of time is one of the greatest and darkest of magicks, but it is their only chance to win. It will enable him to teach their beloved the last song, to be there to guide him and to tell him the last secrets he must know. If it works, he will even lie calmly to the other, let him believe it was her and her alone all along, but he will not do so without her permission. She tenses, then relaxes, her breathing steady.

"Yes."

Two are one two are one two are one two…

Time passes, and the pull becomes stronger, almost too strong for them to withstand when their beloved comes into sight in the meeting temple and they can talk to him, even as he lies and leads him to believe it was her and her all along. But just as he can no longer hold even a fraction of himself to her, the monster strikes, and he can only call helplessly to them as he leaves, his soul dragged to the afterlife with her voice ringing along side it.

Zelda! Link!

Sheik!

Fin

Probably a jumbled up piece, but I hope it's likable.