"Must you go, Papa?"
The crestfallen voice coming from behind the large, mustachioed man halted his working hands immediately. He felt his large heart sink and his brow droop as a familiar sweet scent pervaded his nostrils, gently evicting the heavy, musty scent the small stable usually carried. His hands sorrowfully slid down the side of the leather saddlebag he had been packing as he released a breath of defeat, and he kicked himself for not being as stealthy as he originally planned.. The man turned his head slightly, so he would be able to see the vibrant red hair and slim figure of the girl behind him, without her being able to see the look of sorrow perched upon his face. The deep timbre of his voice matched the lowness of his heart in his chest as he said softly and hoarsely,
"Malon, sweetie, what're you doin' up so late? Shouldn't you be in bed by now?"
The girl called Malon crossed her arms and hunched her shoulders in the chill of the evening, her tanned skin of her goose-pimpled arms nearly glowing in the light of the candle her father had set on the ground near him. Her tone was gentle, but contained a slight edge of anger in it.
"I think I could be asking you the same thing, Papa. Why do you even have to go? And in the middle of the night no less."
The man chuckled, a deep, almost purring sound. His daughter reminded him so much of her mother: stubborn as a mule, maybe even over-bearing, but all the while meaning the best. He shook his head as a sorrowful grin crept across his face. He could easily make out the eye-brow-raise of a reaction he received from his daughter out of his peripheral vision.
"Malon, we talked 'bout this. I told you yesterday I'd to be headin' out tonight to meet with the Gerudos about our milk quotas. You and I both know we need this bidness, with the way milk prices have been droppin' and the price of purdy much everything else shootin' to high heav'n."
The red-head furrowed her brow and scowled while straightening her neck to almost glare down at her father. "Yep," the rancher confirmed internally, "just like her mama."
"I heard you when you told me the first time. I just didn't want to believe it. Why do you hav'ta go? What can't Uncle Ingo go meet with the Gerudos? You've been working yourself to death lately!"
Both father and daughter noticed a couple of the horses stir in their sleep at the sound of Malon's increasing volume. Malon closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She already got in trouble because of her temper far too often, and didn't want to add tonight to the list. Her frustrated visage quickly dropped to one of grief and ashamedness as her father slowly about-faced away from the horse he had been loading and towards his daughter. He took two large yet gentle strides towards Malon, his boots softly crunching on the hay that littered the earthen floor of the stable. He placed an enormous, hairy-knuckled, and calloused hand on his daughter's nightgown-adorned shoulder. His daughter attempted to turn her eyes from her father's, but halted as he gently took her small chin between the thumb and index finger of his unoccupied hand. Both gazed into eyes identical to their own, the seemingly-only thing that the two of them shared physically. The corners of the rancher's eyes crinkled as he looked into the clear blue eyes of his baby girl.
"I know you don't want me ta go, darlin'. Believe me, neither do I. But we need this. You know that. You're a smart girl, smarter than me at least, and I know you can manage here by yourself for a couple days." The large man whispered to his daughter, as if this were all classified information.
A look of hopeless desperation dipped into the azure eyes of Malon, turning them from a robin's-egg blue to a somber navy. Her voice was hoarse with emotion as she pleaded in a whisper,
"Then please, Papa, let me go with you! I don't want to be here by myself! And I've got a bad feeling about this, Papa, and…I…I couldn't live with myself if you got hurt out there…" All frustration and snark was gone from Malon's voice now. All that remained was concern and helplessness. In response to Malon's change of tone, her father's changed as well; while still gentle, he adopted an edge of authority and even slighter annoyance.
"Now you listen ta me, little lady. You're almost 22 years old now; you're practically a grown woman! I need ya ta be my strong soldier for the next couple'a days. Ya can't change that I'm goin', but ya can change how you act while I'm gone. I need ya strong to take care o'the ranch while I'm away. It'll be yours someday, so just think of it a practicin' for the big times. Can ya do that, Mal? For your old man?"
Malon, though still unhappy, slapped on a smile and embraced her father.
"You always know what to say, Papa. You, Talon Lonlon, are the best father in the whole world."
"And you, Malon Lonlon, and the best daughter in the world."
The two broke the embrace after a tender moment, and they then began to finish her father in loading the horse's saddlebags with clothing, blankets, food, and the like, while Talon attached his long knife from his days as a Royal knight to his belt. As the last items were loaded, Talon broke the almost 15-minute silence:
"So, if I leave right away, I reckon I should make it to Gerudo Mesa by midday day tommora'." Malon began to protest, but thought better of it, simply stating,
"You need to be careful out there, Papa. You know those Gerudo thieves are everywhere out there."
Talon rolled his eyes and grinned toothily, "All right, mama hen, you need ta quit yer pickin'. I'm gonna be fine, especially with Loubi here to protect me. After 23 years, he hasn't let me down yet." The loaded horse snorted softly in response, and Talon affectionately patted the old horse's neck.
The knight-turned-farmer-turned father then mounted his horse with ease, turned to place a small kiss onto his daughter's head, and gave the horse's hind quarter a slight nudge of encouragement. And with that, Talon Lonlon and Loubi advanced into the starlit night, eventually disappearing from the view of the observing Malon.
With a final sigh, a wave of exhaustion washed over Malon. Recognizing her need for immediate rest, Malon scooped up the shortening candle on the ground and carried it back into the farmhouse, up the stairs, and to her average-sized bedroom. She then placed the candle and holder on the small table beside her bed and lay down, gazing into the candle's cozy light. It was then her worry threatened to overtake her once again.
"Maybe I should just follow him," she pondered to herself, "I doubt he'll notice until it's too late to say no." Malon smiled smugly to herself. She WAS smarter than her old man. Suddenly, as she began to sit up, an image appeared in her mind: the image of her father: her big, strong, built-like-a-bear father looking into her eyes, pretty much begging her to stay. How could she say no that that? Her pride defeated, Malon decided that her father's absence wouldn't be as bad as her runaway imagination made it seem. She had always had a knack of letting her imagination get the best of her, but she was a grown woman know. It was time to grow up.
"Besides", Malon pondered as consciousness faded and she extinguished the candle's warm light, "he's only going to be gone a couple of days, right?"
Wrong. She could not have been more wrong.
A/N: Hello everyone, and thank you for taking the time to read this story. I know this chapter was pretty lacking in Friendship or Romance, but I needed to get this in there somehow. Please remember, reviews are the greatest gift an author can give another author, so please review! Concrit, flames, praise, I take it all!
Also, I'm reaching out to all of you readers for an OC to use in this story. I'm looking for a male character who can be a person who has his romantic sights set on poor Malon. Please help me with that! If you have an idea, please send me a review with his appearance, personality, and background information in a review or a PM (preferred). Thanks again for reading!
-Hal