Greetings, whoever you are, thanks for taking an interest in this new fic..! This is gonna be a collab effort between two people (this account is our new collab account), and we're gonna be writing alternate chapters, so don't be surprised if the writing styles seem very different between chapters…..because they are. If you're interested, you can find me on my solo account, LawlietKeehl as well, though I haven't posted anything in a while. Anyway, this is the first Zelda fanfiction for both of us, and as a prior warning, it's likely to contain a certain about of yaoi at some point or another…the rating will be edited accordingly. But that's enough introduction for now; GO GO GO. READ IT. REVIEW IT IF YOU HAVE THE TIME. Seriously, we'd love to know what you think.
A sense of dread is a bad, and yet exceptionally useful sense to have. Link had always had it, right since he was a little kid fresh out of the forest. Seven years unused between then and now had not at all dulled it, and he knew without a doubt that it was just one aspect of luck out of many thousands which had kept him alive up until this point. As such, he liked to pay it plenty of attention regardless of what situation he was in – it hadn't failed him yet.
It was as he entered this next room that he became aware of these first signature tingles of anxiety, and in a clean motion he drew his sword from his back, completely on instinct. He looked around himself slowly and suspiciously, automatically scanning for threats, escape routes, good or bad fighting terrain; anything that he should be keeping an eye out for to guarantee his continued survival. He'd learned the hard way that failing to notice detail could be costly in battle.
A quick glance around revealed no malicious presences whatsoever, but Link's misgivings only grew at this. Cautiously, he walked slightly further into the room, his movements quiet and calculated, like a wild animal at the mercy of only its own agility to hide from the predator.
It was a truly bizarre room, now that he truly looked at it for more than simply its fighting-ground qualities. Where he stood, by the door, appeared to be on some sort of misshapen island; as he walked, his feet dragged loudly over billions of grains of unremarkable sand, the sound scratching in ugly discord with the pressing silence all around. In front of him lay water, shimmering lazily and offering a shivering mirror image of the pale cloud apparently blanketing the sky. It was unclear how deep it was, and while he hated to be reckless, he couldn't help but be drawn to find out, since the middle of the room (he supposed it was a room) intrigued him so much.
Another island, much like his own current location, sat precisely in the middle of the space, between himself and another island-with-a-door, hardly visible across the eerie pool. Erupting from the sand was a leafless tree, bent wretchedly as if by some terrible fear or hatred; and however ridiculous, Link felt a light shudder run down his back just looking at it. Squinting his eyes slightly, he was able to notice that the door distantly opposite him was barred shut, though this didn't really surprise him. The lack of enemy still faintly disturbed him, but he was piecing together what had to happen now.
Slowly, hesitantly, he put a booted foot forwards, tentatively touching his toe to the water before him, half expecting to sink straight through the second he touched the rippling surface. He didn't; the water darkened the material from cinnamon to a deeper mahogany, and he felt a little of it soak through, but he certainly wasn't drowning, so he could only conclude that yes, this was just another illusion. All these damned temples seemed full of them.
Having been reassured that the lake, at least for now, was mostly superficial, he walked forwards with slightly more confidence, though his eyes were still hard and sharp as he looked around constantly, not trusting anything about this situation. He slowed slightly as he reached the tree, footfalls becoming as light and quiet as the water would allow him as he approached with all the suspicion in the world.
Up until he set foot on the central little island, he'd been reasonably calm about the whole affair. He'd known, with his pragmatic knowledge of how cruelly these places worked, that a foe of some kind was certain to inhabit this apparently silent place, and he'd accepted that soon he would have a fight on his hands. But it hadn't really caused him any proper disquiet until now.
He set his foot down on the island, looked towards the tree. For just a second, he thought he caught a black flurry hiding itself behind the trunk, and perhaps – perhaps – a gleam of red. But as fast as he could blink, it was gone, and a gentle wind caught at the end of his hat and nudged it at his face, in a way juxtaposing horribly his sudden wave of fear.
He spun around, as on edge as if hung by his chainmail on the point of a sword, breath catching in his throat. Nothing there. Of course nothing there, he thought to himself angrily, what was a nightmare-enemy without some mind games first to haunt him forever more? He twisted around again, eyebrows furrowing, and again, and again. He thought he heard laughter, some strange, light snickering from all around him and yet nowhere at the same time. He was being taunted, and both he and the unknown malignance knew it. He snarled softly, but the sound broke off midway through, as at long last, something substantial caught his eye and froze his voice in his throat.
Reflected in the water lapping softly at the base of the island, there was a black shape, curled in the spindles of the dead tree's branches, silhouetted against the mist. The glow of two crimson eyes was just about visible in what he presumed was its face, even huddled in on itself as the creature was, and Link felt his blood go cold. It was sickeningly familiar, somehow, in a way he couldn't have explained even if he had the words with which to do so. Such nameless horror, and not any notion of why, made him irrationally – or perhaps sensibly – terrified of looking up to see what it truly was. The reflection of the thing, rippling peacefully in the water, was benign. The real thing, which was currently behind him, was not.
But then, he supposed, there was a reason why Farore's light kissed the back of his hand. He squeezed his fingers around the hilt of the Master Sword, and turned.
Another cackle, and this time he saw the creature's mouth open to make it – but after a moment, it fully dawned on him that he couldn't call this a creature. No, it was more human, or elven. It had two long, slender legs clad in darkened leggings, ending in boots much like his own. He saw the glint of a belt buckle at the waist, and the outline of the rim of a shield and a sword on the foe's shoulder. He turned his attention fully to its face again, towards those scarlet eyes and that mouth, and had to restrain a cry as he recognised it at last. At the back of his head, he registered that most people didn't find it so difficult to recognise their own faces. But then, he hadn't expected to be confronted with himself in battle. Because it was certainly him, down to the very parting of his hair and the angle of his jaw, only this new version wore black in place of green, and had eyes like what he could only imagine hellfire would look like.
This certainly wasn't a normal situation, and even knowing what his duty was in this state of affairs – to kill it, of course – he found himself totally unable to apply the usual protocol. He stared up at it with utter venom, barely hiding the fear in his eyes, taking this sudden appearance of his doppelganger as a personal insult. Why…?! And how…..?!
"Who are you?" he demanded, voice raised and sword tilted threateningly towards the quiet figure in the tree. Other-Link swung his leg lazily beneath him, cocking his head calmly to the side as he considered the indignant young hero. It took him a couple of seconds before he deemed his friend of more verdant hue worthy of speech, but eventually his lips slid open to grace him with an answer.
"You, of course." His words seemed to diffuse into the air like a toxin into a wound as they were uttered, and held an ethereal echo. His voice was weirdly torn between dangerous, calm insanity, and the petulance of someone half his – their – age, and it made Link practically squirm in his tunic. All of this was so wrong – what was this demon doing before him, masked with his own face as if to deter him from attacking? What was it doing, speaking in haunting whispers, teasing and taunting him? He growled softly, uncomfortable, as he glared up at it, trying to be bold.
"Answer me properly!" he shouted. As its only answer, the strange, wraithlike Link smirked, and let himself very slowly down from the tree, moving with a delicateness that the 'original' Link knew, disturbingly, he had never had, nor probably ever would. It was as if this monster was putting every effort into showing his grace and power as a means of intimidation, and regrettably, it was working excellently. He backtracked slightly as his dark copy sauntered up to him, unnerved by the lazy elegance with which he walked, not a care in the world for any of Link's weapons; was he so unafraid of his abilities?
"Temper, temper, Link of the Forest… Now what would the Deku Tree say?" came that nightmare voice again, the imposter's lips fixed in a permanent smirk as he watched Link flounder. "… You want to know who I am? Can't you see?"
Link snarled softly, not taking well to the creature's apparent knowledge of him, and how he chose to incorporate it into his torments. "I can see well enough, but it explains little. Answer me."
"Oh, Link, Link, Link… The Hero Of Time, all made up of courage and goodness and light…" The shadow-elf turned away from him, languorously swinging his arms as he walked a few steps away, to stand back before the tree again. "… I am the side of you so secret that you yourself do not even know."
Link bit savagely at his lip, eyes hard as ice as he glared towards his enemy – though the strange young male had not said as much, it was extremely obvious from all else that this was exactly what he was. He didn't trust him half an inch, and he wanted to make sure this thing knew it. He was sick of the winding, indirect murmurs of suggestion already, and his voice quaked with suppressed aggression as he spoke again. "Give me a straight answer."
The dark-clothed elf turned back to him, red eyes practically shining with an otherworldly malice and delight in his distress. He twisted one foot into the sand, smirking all across his sharp face.
"Maybe if you were going to try and name me, you could call me Dark. Dark Link. Yes. I like that." Dark continued almost as if talking to himself, glancing up almost dreamily for a second as he considered. Link took it upon himself to snap this unnerving creature out of his daze.
"Dark Link?" he repeated, flexing his fingers round the Master Sword and watching with utmost mistrust. "And you said…the side of myself so secret that even I didn't know it?" He was rewarded with a nod, and Dark shifted gracefully forwards again, stopping little more than a meter in front of him, shoulders back in a relaxed but still weirdly imposing stance. It could just be that everything was now making Link nervous, but he didn't like it.
"That's right." Dark's voice had dropped, and now carried a strong and horrific vibe of violence which Link knew there was surely only one way to conquer. "I am everything inside of you that Hyrule doesn't need. I am every insecurity, every fear, every hatred-"
Link took a step back, staring straight at his copy as he tried not to let him feel like he had the upper hand – that was the last thing he needed. But at the same time, all he could feel was himself falling into the seemingly endless hatred of Dark's glowing eyes. "Silence-"
"I am every thing which has ever tainted you, hero, I am every negative you've hidden for seventeen years. I am every single regret and anger and venom and scar and I am the loneliness you pretend you never felt-"
"Silence!" this time louder, but just as ineffectual.
Dark's voice was rising all the time, and even as Link attempted to verbally fight back, claim some authority, he was drowned out by the barrage of all the self-hatred Dark claimed to be. It came incessantly, all that he could hear, and all that he could feel, suddenly pressing in and making him afraid. He wasn't afraid, he was never afraid, how dare this creature-
He had already slashed his sword through the air towards this venomous being before he even registered what he was doing, and was only truly drawn consciously to the action as the blade collided with Dark's own, which he had produced faster than light, or so it seemed. The two metals met with twin squeals, identical down to the atom but for the darkness seeming to ooze lazily under the surface of the sword in Dark's hand. He looked up for just a moment, taking in Dark's expression, seeing instantly the sadistic glee in his eyes and knowing that this was one fight in which mercy was just a myth. He gritted his teeth; that was just how it was going to be, and he would deal with it accordingly.
From here on out, events started to blur together, as they always did when Link fought. He was acutely aware of every movement that he made, every step and slash and dodge, but after a time it all became just one long, loosely choreographed performance in which the only prize for victory was his life. As he had expected, Dark Link's fighting style seemed to perfectly match his own, and at times they even mirrored each other's attacks, resulting in an uncomfortable bounce backwards and an aggravated snarl from both parties. So it continued, for longer than Link was bothered to measure, until his muscles were aching from exertion and his hair was darkened with sweat, until the sacred sword in his hand felt heavier than an oak tree and more useless than a twig. He had managed to land a couple of decent attacks on the dark copy of himself, but of course he had also received a couple of blows to balance things out, and Dark's defences never dropped for long enough for him to sneak in a quick flurry which he wouldn't be able to recover from, as he might have liked. He supposed this good defence was something he should really take as a compliment, since it was only the shadow replicating he himself, but he found it hard to glean much joy from anything trying to kill him.
His limbs felt heavier and heavier, and as the fight wore achingly on, Link started to wonder how on earth he would survive it. He had experienced long battles before, of course he had, but never had they wound on so much as this one, and never had it felt so bitter and hopeless. It was as if the evil entity breathed anxiety and depression into the very air surrounding them, as whimsical an idea as that felt in his head. He shook his head as much as he could afford to without upsetting his balance, and tried to stay focused. Even with his life at stake, he was finding it harder and harder to concentrate on the task in hand. Exhaustion was a dangerous thing in so many different ways.
Throughout their struggles, they had found themselves dancing all around that strange room, but eventually they found themselves back once more by that half-dead tree in the very centre, the occasional stray sword swing cutting harshly into the bark and leaving a pale slash in the aging wood. For the first time in a number of minutes, they found themselves making eye-contact with one another again, and a heart-wrenching smirk ghosted onto Dark's pale features as he took in Link's expression, followed with a flowing laugh; it would have been a beautiful sound, were it not for the edge within it of purest ice.
"Ah, you see now, Link…?" he asked softly; his breathing was laboured from their tribulations, but he still managed to sound tormenting, and Link could hardly bear to hear it. He snarled angrily as soon as he had to breath with which to interject.
"See? What do I see?"
As fast as a spark igniting, Dark smashed their swords together again, with force enough to halt both of them instantaneously in their fighting. Their weapons poised dangerously above their heads, the dark hero leaned forwards, unnervingly close to Link's own face. His smirk never fell for even half a second, eyes forever glowing with the pleasure of despair.
"You see you."
Link let out another enraged, animalistic sound, letting it stand in for any kind of question; he was well and truly done now, he didn't care to be interrogating this eluding bastard any more. He almost didn't care whether or not Dark took it as his cue to answer; he'd kill him soon enough anyway. That was the hope, the prayer, all he could beg for now.
"My face… I bet you hated to see it when we started this fight, didn't you..?" Dark asked, voice deadly soft, maddeningly full as ever of his calm cruelty. "So full of demons and anger…sin… But look at you now."
There was a sharp, ear-scolding squeal from above them, and it took the flagging Link a moment or two to realise that that had been Dark again, pushing forwards hard and fast enough to send both their swords flying away behind them, landing with a splash in the interminably deep, but apparently only semantic puddle they fought in. He lunged back to attempt to grab it again, but was whiplashed to a halt as Dark's fingers closed tight around his wrist, holding him firm. He was dragged back towards the colourless elf, right up to his face. In the rapid struggle, he caught a quick glimpse of another soul-crushing grin from Dark, and felt a flare of rage. He felt a spidery hand on the back of his head, and he realised it must be Dark, pushing his head down, forcing him to stare into the puddle.
He saw their reflection's faces first, roving eyes catching onto them quickly; he'd like to be able to say it was just because of the glaring red of Dark's eyes, but as he kept looking, he realised that this wasn't the only thing he'd been morbidly drawn to.
It was the same hatred on both their faces, he realised after a few heartbeats, the same expression down to every detail this time. While his eyes still contained a purer, sapphire light, every other aspect of his features now did an impression of Dark's; there was a fierce curl in his lips, a savage frown articulated by his eyebrows, every sharp angle suddenly spilling an anger that he was sure hadn't been there before. Had it? It couldn't have been there, surely, that wasn't who he was.
Dark held his prisoner's head there for several moments, laughing with notes of insanity once more at how little the Kokiri boy was suddenly resisting. "In some shock, are we, Link of the Forest…?"
Link just stared, still vainly attempting to find some excuse, some trick of the light, some explanation for why he looked so bitter in the pool below them. He found himself unable to as the moments crawled painfully onwards, and he faintly heard one more time as his doppelganger expressed his mirth over the situation, before he felt his hair being pulled up and back, exposing his neck to the enemy. He felt like he should be struggling, but that confusion had evoked a disturbing misery, almost a total lack of desire to escape. He caught a flash of silver and heard the telltale sound as Dark withdrew a small knife from somewhere within his tunic, and squirmed just a little, grunting.
Dark hushed him, the sound like the rushing of wind through dead grass, hideously and sarcastically soothing him. "There, there, now Link… Don't fret now, I'll give you the rest you need…"
He struggled some more, just weakly, but fell pathetically still again as he felt the cold blade pressing against his pale throat, making the beginning of an incision. It was small, but by far enough to make him stop his wriggling, terrified of pressing the razor edge in deeper. The evil clone just hushed again, and the resignation mounted still more. He closed his eyes. He could barely believe this was it, moreover that he was allowing this to be it, but here it was. He waited, whispering Hylian prayers in his head as he waited for everything to end, numbing and losing himself so he might not feel the pain so much.
He felt the pain, but not the pain he had been expecting.
One side of his tunic was abruptly very wet and cold, and that side of his body rippled suddenly through with a throbbing of discomfort. This hadn't at all been how he'd expected having his throat slit to feel, and it aroused curiosity enough for him to open his eyes again. He found himself lying on one side on the floor, his quivering reflection trembling underneath him, his throat perfectly intact. He looked up. Dark Link stared down at him, the arm which had been holding Link still poised from releasing him. One more lethal smirk. One more cold little shake of the head.
"Link of the Forest…What a fool you 'heroes' are… Did you really think I would kill myself..?"
