Hey everyone.
This is the first Zelda fanfic I've ever uploaded to the internet, so I'm actually kinda nervous about it!
If anything about the story seems ripped off from another, I can guarantee you that it was not intentional. I've had this idea for a while and have only began putting it down now. I also got the names 'Merle' and 'Ruven' from a baby names website. They were right next to each other. I will gladly supply the website if asked, but now it doesn't seem necessary.
But anyway… I hope you enjoy it.
He felt like rushing in there to help her. Help his wife. She was in there for hours, with nobody but some of the servants to help her. But every single time he tried, they shoved him back out. It was absolutely no use trying anymore.
As the clock ticked by, the clouds rolled overhead. Gently and slowly. He pointlessly reached for the heavens, feeling helpless. It was like watching a baby cry, but doing nothing to help it whatsoever.
Wait… a baby cry...?
"Congratulations, Your Highness," a servant cheerily interrupted him just as he placed the pieces together. "You have a brand new baby daughter."
"Can I see her? Can I see Zelda?" he spat anxiously, his fists clenched tightly. He was shaking vigorously.
The servant laughed. "I don't see why not."
It was like a blur about what happened in between that and holding his new child.
In all of the moments that he had ever experienced that felt absolutely wonderful, that one was definitely one of the best. The whole atmosphere felt extremely fragile, and even if he just spoke one word, he felt it would all shatter to pieces.
A baby girl, his baby girl, was cradled in his arms, a tuft of brown-blonde hair on her red, wrinkled head. She was wailing loudly. His own tears were pressing onto his eyes.
"Link," Zelda had murmured from her place on the bed. Her hairline was dotted with beads of sweat. He peered up. She peered at him, and smiled. A most wonderful smile, that lit up her exhausted face, the room, and what seemed to be at that moment, the world. A smile that seemed to develop words, even though the only sounds were the cries of the newborn child. Zelda patted the side of the bed.
"Sit down, love," she mumbled, and her husband obeyed as he almost robotically sat on the bed. They both gazed at the child.
The king, the queen, and now, the princess.
The years they raised her seemed to race by. They used the servants help as little as possible, wanting them, the rightful parents,to definitely be looked at as the parents and not for the titles to be thrown into the arms of the maids. She was raised well. They had thought they had done an excellent job—same with their son, who was born when their eldest child was nearing the age of four. She had not been the slightest bit jerked by the new arrival and had welcome him with open arms. They figured this was just a slice of the absolutely proof that she had been raised well.
And she had. But as she got older, a thirst grew, a thirst that could not be quenched by water. It was impossible to conquer, for she wanted less, much less than she was receiving.
Less love and more freedom. That is what she wished for.
But it all was somewhat like a gift; you had to be polite and keep it, for it would be rude to send it back or insist you didn't want it.
And she was only eight years old when she came up with a, at the time, temporary solution.
"Where are you going, Merle?" her six year old brother whispered as he was called into his sister's room for an 'important meeting'.
"I'm going on… a vacation, Ruven," the child anxiously replied, sitting next to him on the bed. Her violet eyes were twinkling with excitement and fear, her matted, light brown hair swinging in her face. "But mommy and daddy don't know… it's, um… going to be a surprise. Okay? So you have to promise not to tell them. Even if they start crying and begging, you have to promise not to tell them. Okay?"
"Are you coming back?" the six year old interrupted, his bottom lip trembling noticeably.
"Um, yeah," Merle nodded. "I promise I'll come back soon, okay?"
Little did they both know, that was a lie.
"Nowpromise not to tell, okay?"
"You're just running away, aren't you?" Ruven, at this point, would have begun crying hysterically, but no sound emerged from him. Merle stayed silent, and then nodded back.
"Yes, I'm running away…"
"Why?" he murmured, his face turning bright pink.
"Because I want a vacation, Ruven, but Mommy and Daddy can't have one right now—" she stopped herself, knowing that lying to her little brother wouldn't make it easier if he found out the truth. She finally sighed and spat out the basics in few words.
"I justwant to."
"Okay," Ruven nodded in reply, glad to be handed the truth instead of childish lies molded just for him.
"Now, promise. Please?"
"Okay," he repeated.
"No, you have to promise, Ruven!" Merle begged, shaking her little brother gently. "Promise me!"
"I promise," he replied. "I promise I won't tell Mommy or Daddy."
"Good boy," she mumbled, tousling his hair. She stared at him wearily.
"Are you going to be okay with this?" she whispered, tears beginning to blur her vision. What was once her brother simply looked like a blob right now.
"Yes, as long as you come home soon." He replied, rocking back and forth on her bedspread. "You are going to come home soon. Promise?"
"I promise," she mumbled.
"You promise what?"
"That I'll come home soon."
"Okay," he replied, satisfied.
Merle kissed Ruven on his pale forehead. He jerked slightly from some sort of reflex, but he didn't attempt to resist. She felt chilled to the bone compared to his light, yet warm skin. Finally, Merle tore herself away from him and steadily scuffled to another portion of her room, where she picked up a tall, skinny lamp in the corner of the room and smashed the stained glass window.
Ruven yelped as the glass shattered outside, the shards tinkling onto the ground, where they would remain for several days from now. Acting quickly, Merle peered back at her brother, her eyes appearing calm, yet she was shaking furiously.
"I love you, Ruven. Tell Mommy and Daddy I love them, too."
And with that, she slipped out the window.
And she didn't come back.