The Sound of Her Voice.
Link reflects on the quality of Midna's voice.
Disclaimer: I don't own LoZ. Now don't sue me.
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Some men compared the voices of the women they admired or loved to instruments-- usually lutes, bells, violins or flutes. But Link knew of three other things that her voice could be compared to.
No chime or reed could ever create a sound like her voice. It was a dulcimer, sweet and soft but with short, precise notes, a bubbling, rolling sound that seems broken but flows all the same. When she spoke, he could almost hear the strings chording together behind her words.
It was a wall covered with grapevines in the rain. The bouncing, pattering sound of rain on stone and its slight mysterious echo. The mixed scents of wet vine, the fruits of such and rich soil, soaking in the rain. Sweet, earthy, with an unfamiliar but comforting tang that comes only from combining scents.
It was the feeling of magic, the rush of power that used your veins as channels. Something that gives you tremendous courage just to be near, but is still wild and not under your control. A completely foreign and living feeling, but its meaning plain, much like the chirping dialect that she spoke. He didn't know what the words meant, but he knew what she was saying all the same.
"Link." he turned to see his constant companion striding toward him.
"Oh, Midna. I was just thinking about you, actually."
She folded her graceful arms and rolled her eyes, but he could tell that she was pleased. "Let's get going."
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Katez-chan says: Yes, I did it. I wrote a drabble. O_o So unfamiliar! I feel like it needs a fricken plot! I love the metaphors here, I don't actually think they're all too strange.
Outtakes: None for this story. I actually didn't have a real plan, I was just writing it...
So. Review. I have an army of scene dividers. If you don't review, they'll attack. Well... maybe not... let's just say that if you review, they'll make sure not to attack you.