I don't own Legend of Zelda, yadda yadda yadda, please don't sue me.
Enjoy this fan fiction. I wrote it once when I was like 10, and now I'm rewriting it. The revised version should, I'm sure, be rather better. If you disagree, by all means, feel free to tell me as blatantly as you want.
--Chapter 1--
A beach.
He was on a beach.
Link was on a beach. He was lying face-down, with sand in his mouth and what felt like a massive hangover in his head. That was all he could determine about his situation. Sitting up blearily, he coughed and spat, then crawled to the water to wash out his mouth. That was a mistake. He gagged on the salty brine.
With the vile taste still fresh in his mouth, Link turned slowly, taking in his surroundings. His vision was blurry, but he could make out an incline leading up to a forest a dozen yards inland. He managed to stand and stumble groggily towards it.
What was he doing here? Link couldn't quite remember how he'd ended up on the beach. But as he wandered along the narrow path winding between the trees, his settings began to take on an eerie familiarity. He'd been here before. He'd walked along this path before.
An octorok wandered around a bend and stared stupidly at him. Ah, yes. He'd fought on this path as well.
As he clumsily drew his sword he nicked his hand and swore loudly. The octorok regarded him inquisitively. It wore a curious expression, if that was possible for an octorok. Playfully, it spat a rock at his odd, green-garbed new friend. It hit Link in the stomach, winding him. Falling to his knees, he vomited. Then, slowly, he turned his head up to the stupid creature, who was already preparing another present.
That was it. Link snapped.
Screaming obscenities, he ran at the octorok, wildly flailing his sword around. The octorok, realizing it was in trouble, began chirping for help. It didn't help much when Link's sword severed the top of its head, and it fell lifeless to the ground. Link didn't stop here, stabbing repeatedly at the corpse.
Finally he stopped and knelt, panting heavily. As he calmed down, he became aware of the presence of creatures around him. Slowly he turned in a full circle, and found himself almost surrounded by at least fifty octoroks, staring coldly at him and their fallen comrade. Slowly, Link stood up. A hundred metallic blue eyes swiveled to follow him. He grasped his sword, and pulled it from the corpse as gently as he could. The monsters watched him intently.
Link slowly walked towards the edge of the circle, glancing every few moments over his shoulder at the octoroks behind him. The tension made the air thick. Finally he reached one end of the gang. Without warning, he broke into a run.
And so when Link, with a terrible headache, the taste of sand and salt water in his mouth, clutching his aching stomach, bruised and scratched by low-hanging branches, and being chased by fifty angry octoroks, stumbled out of the forest and into the house directly ahead of him, slamming the door behind him, he was rather surprised to see Marin stirring a large pot and Tarin waiting happily at the table.
"Link!" giggled Marin. "What a pleasant surprise!"
Link gaped. Slowly, carefully, he lowered himself to his knees. He gaped some more. There was a brief, awkward silence before Link fell gracefully towards the floor and hit it rather less gracefully. There was a sickening thud. "Oh dear," said Tarin, scratching his moustache. "Guess we better get him to the guest bed."
Enjoy this fan fiction. I wrote it once when I was like 10, and now I'm rewriting it. The revised version should, I'm sure, be rather better. If you disagree, by all means, feel free to tell me as blatantly as you want.
--Chapter 1--
A beach.
He was on a beach.
Link was on a beach. He was lying face-down, with sand in his mouth and what felt like a massive hangover in his head. That was all he could determine about his situation. Sitting up blearily, he coughed and spat, then crawled to the water to wash out his mouth. That was a mistake. He gagged on the salty brine.
With the vile taste still fresh in his mouth, Link turned slowly, taking in his surroundings. His vision was blurry, but he could make out an incline leading up to a forest a dozen yards inland. He managed to stand and stumble groggily towards it.
What was he doing here? Link couldn't quite remember how he'd ended up on the beach. But as he wandered along the narrow path winding between the trees, his settings began to take on an eerie familiarity. He'd been here before. He'd walked along this path before.
An octorok wandered around a bend and stared stupidly at him. Ah, yes. He'd fought on this path as well.
As he clumsily drew his sword he nicked his hand and swore loudly. The octorok regarded him inquisitively. It wore a curious expression, if that was possible for an octorok. Playfully, it spat a rock at his odd, green-garbed new friend. It hit Link in the stomach, winding him. Falling to his knees, he vomited. Then, slowly, he turned his head up to the stupid creature, who was already preparing another present.
That was it. Link snapped.
Screaming obscenities, he ran at the octorok, wildly flailing his sword around. The octorok, realizing it was in trouble, began chirping for help. It didn't help much when Link's sword severed the top of its head, and it fell lifeless to the ground. Link didn't stop here, stabbing repeatedly at the corpse.
Finally he stopped and knelt, panting heavily. As he calmed down, he became aware of the presence of creatures around him. Slowly he turned in a full circle, and found himself almost surrounded by at least fifty octoroks, staring coldly at him and their fallen comrade. Slowly, Link stood up. A hundred metallic blue eyes swiveled to follow him. He grasped his sword, and pulled it from the corpse as gently as he could. The monsters watched him intently.
Link slowly walked towards the edge of the circle, glancing every few moments over his shoulder at the octoroks behind him. The tension made the air thick. Finally he reached one end of the gang. Without warning, he broke into a run.
And so when Link, with a terrible headache, the taste of sand and salt water in his mouth, clutching his aching stomach, bruised and scratched by low-hanging branches, and being chased by fifty angry octoroks, stumbled out of the forest and into the house directly ahead of him, slamming the door behind him, he was rather surprised to see Marin stirring a large pot and Tarin waiting happily at the table.
"Link!" giggled Marin. "What a pleasant surprise!"
Link gaped. Slowly, carefully, he lowered himself to his knees. He gaped some more. There was a brief, awkward silence before Link fell gracefully towards the floor and hit it rather less gracefully. There was a sickening thud. "Oh dear," said Tarin, scratching his moustache. "Guess we better get him to the guest bed."