Evening!

So I'm back on the (fanfiction) saddle. Updates will be less frequent on this one, as my break is nearly over and soon I must go back to San Jose State. I'm a bit worried about the style- it's a lot more fun to write in than the style I was using for Moments. I just hope it's sustainable is all.

Talking on Moments, I should point out that this is a sequel. If you haven't read it you won't be missing much but it might could be a good idea to skim the bit before my first entry, where I outline how my version of reality differs from the canon ending. Beyond that I shouldn't worry much, although that may change as I figure out how direct a sequel this is- I'll keep you posted.

The first chapter doesn't really need the warning, but future chapters might be pretty heavy on the spoilers. Bear it in mind.

On with the story! As always, feedback is pretty God damned awesome.

Chapter One
Cincinnatus

This is the story of a ranch-hand turned hero named Link, who after having many adventures and saving the world on at least two occasions went home to his birthplace of Ordon and settled down with the imp he had fallen in love with.

The summary doesn't do either Link's career or his relationship with said imp much justice, but our time together is fleeting. No book could capture the whole of the story of the hero who drove back the Twilight and put an end to the vicious reign of Ganondorf the demon king, and no book could fulfill in its pages the mangled promises of love in its infinite variations. For you, and for me, it will suffice to say that Link rode out to save the world and having achieved that goal retired.

His retirement was not a sedentary one. When in Ordon he spent his mornings herding goats. His afternoons were mostly spent fishing. From time to time he would leave the town, sometimes for several days. The townsfolk had known Link since he was an infant in his doomed mother's arms and did not ask him where he went on these occasions. Perhaps they were afraid that he would tell him. Perhaps he would have. Link had no appreciable talent for deception.

If you were to ask him how he enjoyed his life with Midna- for this was the name of the imp and his companion of many adventures- he would favor you with a pleasant smile that he did not need to practice in front of a mirror because he was, fundamentally, a good-natured and friendly individual.

Then, almost immediately, he would kill you with his sword. This was mostly because there were only three people in the world of light besides him who knew about Midna, and Link simply didn't trust any of the bastards- although he did trust them to keep their mouths closed, which meant that you must have found out through less than savory methods. Link had something to lose besides Hyrule, these days, and the knowledge of that fact made him justifiable paranoid.

Assuming that he trusted you- a purely hypothetical situation- Link would pause in his work (assuming that his work of the moment was not of a martial nature, in which case he would most certainly not stop, given his profound and undying respect for his own life) and turn to you.

"I love her," he would say. And this would be true.

If you asked him about his love life the result would be basically the same as in the first scenario, except that he wouldn't smile first. For all his experience Link was still as provincial as hell, and there were some boundaries that you simply did not cross in polite conversation.

Assuming that you knew him well enough to make him loathe to end you on the spot, Link would pause in his work (except in the previously mentioned scenario, in which case he would not) and turn to you. He would narrow his eyes in a manner that conveyed, with an impressive degree of exactitude, that you had gone too far. Any thinking organism would find the way Link would narrow his eyes deeply frightening. It would remind you of the stories they sometimes told about him, and if you had seen him with a sword in his hand it would remind you of the hard glint that had been in his eyes on that occasion. He would look at you until you were on the verge of cutting and running like a terrified jackrabbit. Then, mildly, he would say "That's none of your business" and go back to what he had been doing before. The experience would leave you deeply shaken and, quite possible, newly religious.

This is not to give the impression that Link was in any way villainous, although on occasion he could be very intimidating, often without meaning to. In fact, for the most part Link was as level as a beam. On most subjects it was about as easy to make Link angry as it would be to make a wall sad, or a pumpkin recalcitrant. He had seen things most people had not dreamed of and his experiences had left him serene. Link knew that most of what went on in the world wasn't particularly important in the grand scheme of things and he knew this because once upon a time the grand scheme of things had mostly revolved around him. Only on the subject of Midna was it possible to get a rise out of him. It was the incredible fortune of the majority of the population of Hyrule that they didn't know about Midna.

It was a mistake to forget what Link was. Link was just slightly less dangerous than picking a fight with an active volcano.

On the unassuming spring morning which begins this story, Link awoke early from a fever dream to find his body laved with sweat and groaned quietly. His dreams had been ill-favored for as long as he could remember, but just lately they had taken a new and ominous turn.

"Whazzat?" muttered Midna on the mattress beside him.

"Not a thing," said Link easily, and got out of bed. No reply from Midna. He supposed she had gone back to sleep.

These past few nights he had dreamed he heard someone chanting, far away. Ancient chants. He couldn't put any meaning to the words but he could feel the meaning there, at the edge of his consciousness, like a moderately important document he had put down somewhere and promptly forgotten about. Shaking his head, he walked over to the pot and splashed some cold water on his face. He shrugged on a loose tunic and sat on a stool to get his boots on, taking the opportunity as he did so to glance appreciatively over the curves of Midna's body. For the hundredth time he admonished himself to be less lecherous. Gently he whisked the sheet up to her chin; Midna grumbled obstinately in her sleep and he fell in love with her all over again.

He rose to his newly booted feet and headed for the door. If Hanch was awake Link thought he might hit him up for a few Cucco eggs for his breakfast. Link got his sword down from the wall and shouldered the door open without looking at it as he fussed with the buckle.

It was a cold spring morning but the chill air wasn't doing him any harm. The dawn had a quality of embarrassment to it, which didn't make any sort of sense but Link couldn't be bothered to work it out- the whole of his attention was devoted to his sword belt. He finally got it the way he liked it and cinched it tight as he swung one-handed down on the ladder.

A fragment of the chant that had been playing through his dreams recurred to him as he climbed down and he sang out, as much to see his breath fog in the air as anything else.

By the time he reached the bottom of the ladder it was gone again. Link wondered idly if it was always the same chant, or if it varied from night to night, or if in fact it made even the slightest difference one way or the other. He turned around and looked out on the little stand that his house sat in for the first time that morning. There was an army in it.

Link blinked cautiously. The army didn't go away.

For all appearances, the Third Royal Pikemen, as elite a bunch of soldiers as could be found in the decrepit and degraded Army of Hyrule, had decided to assemble with parade-ground precision in front of his house. Every helmet was securely screwed on, every cohort was gleaming in steel and gold, ever pike looked very sharp, and by and large the Third Royal Pikemen appeared to be quite capable of holding off an impressively larger battalion by the sheer force of their stoicism alone.

"You know," Link said experimentally, "I think I could kill every single one of you right now and still have time for my breakfast."

"Stand down, Link," said a high cold voice, and a knot of soldiery parted to reveal someone who was certainly not a soldier. The steel breastplate and the sword certainly looked the part, but the pale pink ball gown was simply out of place in a military setting.

It was Princess Zelda.

. . .