Hey all! So, new novel, new fanfiction for when I'm bored! So everybody, here it is. This one is a bit different from After Seven Years, like a lot different. There aren't any major battles going on in this one, no crazy fiancees and psycho fathers. Oh, by the way, if that's your thing and you HAVEN'T read After Seven Years, I encourage you to check it out! But, having said that, I really like how this one is going. I like that it's not all big explosions and stuff. If the format confuses you, please let me know and I'll explain.

So, I'm going to make a little rule because towards the end of my last fanfiction I felt like I was only writing it for myself which is sweet, but I spent a lot of time doing it and not a lot else. So, to keep me from wasting more time on something like two people liked enough to review, I'm going to start with the "Five Reviews Before Next Update" type thing. For those of you who don't know what that means, I want five solid reviews before I update again. So yeah, that is all, enjoy!

I remember seeing the smoke from my window. I remember my dad telling me to go downstairs and hide in the back room. I was just a little girl then, only nine.

It still haunts me, seeing the castle burning like it was. I could hear the people screaming all the way from the ranch, I can still hear them when I close my eyes.

My eyes flash open when I'm startled from a dream that seems too real, a choked feeling in my throat. I swallow, taking in the darkness that still conceals us, the night still deep. I readjust my head on my pillow, turning my back to the door, hoping that the blankets will be enough to protect me from my demons.

I try to keep my breathing even as a tear slips from my eye, so that I won't wake anyone, particularly the man laying next to me still lost to sleep. It's not very often that he gets much rest, he's always sitting up at night, watching through the window, looking for something, or someone.

I think I must have spoken too soon though as his eyelashes flutter open, a short gasp escaping his mouth. He's holding his breath, staring up at the roof, probably unaware that I'm awake next to him. I wait for a moment, just to make sure that's he's actually awake and not just having a night terror. "...Link?" I whisper.

He turns his face to look at me. "Hey..." he says so gently it's as if his voice exists as part of the night sounds that surround us.

"Are you dreaming?" I ask.

"I was," he whispers, seeking out the tear that remains trapped between the corner of my eye and the bridge of my nose with his finger, "Did I wake you?"

I shake my head, relief flooding me at his conscious presence.

"Were you dreaming?" he asks, letting his thumb stroke along the length of my jaw.

I nod, draping an arm over his shoulder and pulling myself closer to him. "Was it the same one?" I ask him as I nestle my head into his shoulder.

"It's always the same one," he murmurs.

I let out a stuttered breath, the remnants of a sob in my chest. "I don't know what's wrong with me," I say, my voice breaking.

"There's nothing wrong with you, Mal," he says with conviction.

I don't know why I can't seem to shake these dreams then, why they're so prominent in my life. Even him, after seeing so much, after having to go through such horrible things, he can still shake off the dreams of his past, but I can't seem to.

"Why don't you ever believe me?" he asks, his voice slightly slurred as the night weighs heavily on him.

"Hmm?" I ask, looking up to find him gazing down at me.

"You don't say it, but I know you're thinking it. You've never been good at keeping secrets, Malon," he says, wiping beneath my eyes with his thumb.

"Because if there was nothing wrong with me then I wouldn't see those things every night-"

He cuts me off as he manages to slip his lips over top of mine, holding them there with a raw intensity. He rolls onto his side, and I do the same, my hand drifting around to the back of his neck while he holds my body tight against him, his arms constricting my upper body.

"Hold onto me," he tells me against my lips.

I pull back only slightly, "What do you mean?"

He pulls me back in close, "Hold onto me."

With confusion I wrap my arms around his neck, smelling his hair and feeling the comfortable pressure everywhere on my body that his connects with.

"Can you feel my heart?" he asks.

I focus my concentration on my chest where I feel a steady throbbing against me, the steady thump of his heart, whereas mine is more erratic. "Yes," I murmur into his neck.

"Try and slow your heart down to meet mine," he says, stroking my back with ease.

I nod once, sucking in a deep breath and trying to feel the steady and controlled expansion of his chest against mine.

"See," he whispers after a moment, "your heart beats just like mine, your body is warm just like mine, you feel fear just like all of us do. There is nothing wrong with you."

"But my mind won't let me forget," I say softly into his ear, brushing my lips to his earlobe, his earring cold on my skin. "Everyone else forgets..."

"Everyone else was just watching," he says gently, his voice aching slightly when I let out a brief sob. His grip on me tightens, his lips returning to mine to try and hush my cries. He captures my bottom lip in between his, his breath warm on my face.

I kiss him back, wanting to dissolve in his touch, wanting him to hold me this way forever. I wrap a leg around his body, clenching a fistful of his shirt in my hand as his fingers entangle themselves in my hair. I remember when I had eagerly awaited the moments he had here, the time away from his journey that would bring him home to me and he would hold me in his arms and detail everything that had happened from the time we'd parted to the time we'd joined once more.

And now all of that is over, and yet his arms haven't lost their majesty to me, their comfort.

We part, our foreheads still touching as our breath comes in and out in labored pants. His grip on me relaxes only until it's more comfortable, but our bodies still resemble one beneath the blankets that I always assume will protect me from those creatures lurking in the dark, though I know I might as well be lying here naked.

Against my chest I can feel his heart has picked up in pace, and I like the feel of it, I like the constant thrum of it against me, reminding me that I'm not alone, and that should I be subject to demons or shadows or spirits, that there's another heart close to me that will step in front of me and ward them off, keep them at bay. I snake my hand between us under his shirt and lay it on his chest, unwilling to lose that line that keeps me feeling at peace enough to drift into subconsciousness.

He waits for me to fall asleep, just to make sure that I'm not alone in the darkness.

I only let one more tear slip from my eye before I fall asleep, one in thanks for him.

It disperses into the pillow before he can catch it though.

"He'll be home soon, Malon. Don't worry."

"I know," I murmur, "thanks for coming tonight."

"It was great, see you later."

I nod in her direction as she leaves, finding the night quiet again.

Everyone filters out of the corral, the party finally finishing as the sun makes it' s first hint of returning. My heels are aching and my cheeks are sore from smiling but I've never felt better. Every now and then, the crackle and pop of fireworks can be heard from Kakariko, around the field, some from the forest. A hint of a smile tugs at my lips whenever they're heard. I'm finishing washing up the dishes, Dad and Ingo putting out the bonfires in the corral that the party goers had left there.

I've never felt so weightless, a song still dancing off my tongue as a tune I'd heard tonight ricochets in my mind. My cheeks feel flushed, my eyes heavy, but I'll sleep soundly tonight.

I keep looking through the window for him, though I'm sure he's at the castle making arrangements with the princess. I wonder if he knew to come here, because all of Hyrule had been here so there wouldn't have been anywhere else worth going, but I know that he has things to do, and especially with what's just happened, I can't blame him for being late.

I hear the click of the door behind me, assuming that it's Dad and Ingo coming in at last to pass out wherever the floor is clear. They're a little intoxicated to say the least, but I can't say I blame them exactly. I'd never liked the strong drinks that Dad is so fond of, but I can't help but laugh at how people act under the influence of them.

I wait for the crash of furniture that would let me know they'd finally stumbled in, but instead I hear steady boots against the wooden floor. For a brief moment my heart skips a beat as I anticipate him coming home at last. I feel a hot blush touch my cheeks before I hear the clattering of metal against the floor and realize that it must have been just Dad or Ingo come in at last, probably knocking over something expensive. I roll my eyes, expecting the sound to be followed by snoring.

But then strong arms slip around my waist, warm lips finding my neck. I whirl around in surprise to find him standing behind me, his green tunic stained with dirt, and something red-brown which I assume must be blood. There's a thin slice across his cheek that has a red smear across it but other than that he looks perfect. His eyes still sparkle through the dirt and grime, his lips quirking into a relieved grin. I glance down and see that his shield and sword lay on the ground, that that was the clattering I'd heard.

And then I sling my arms around his neck, not bothering to dry them first as I let out a delighted cry, joyful tears touching my eyes. I keep my wrists cocked to keep them from getting his clothes wet though I doubt he'd notice or care, and laugh as he holds me around my waist.

"Welcome home," I manage to say, my chest trembling with tears though I've never been happier.

"I'm home," he mutters to himself, the words playing off his tongue and sounding perfect.

I pull back, placing a damp hand on his cheek. "Oh, look at me. I've been washing dishes, I've been up all night, I probably look a mess-"

He abruptly cuts me off as he leans in a closes his mouth over mine. When he pulls back, my eyes closed in bliss, he brushes his nose against mine and says, "There is nothing wrong with you."

A tear falls from my eye as I look at him, all the worry about him dying completely erased from my heart. "You did it," I murmur.

His eyebrows knit together as he folds me into his arms holding me tight against him. I rest my face against his chest, holding onto him as the first beams of light start filtering through the kitchen window, the dawn of a new day.

A new age.

A new life.

"I have to go into town, the princess wants to meet with me," he says as he leans against the wall, arms loosely crossed over his chest, watching me sit in front of my vanity, brushing out my hair.

My hand stops moving, I set the brush down and the image of me in the mirror becomes foggy. "How long?" I ask soft enough that he won't be able to hear my wavering voice.

"A few days," he says quietly.

"When are you going?" I ask.

He shrugs a shoulder, "I'm not sure... maybe tomorrow."

I look down at my hands in my lap, dreading these few nights I'll have to spend without him, dreading the time I'll wake up in the night with nothing between myself and the demons but my blankets.

"What does she want?" I ask in a hushed voice.

"I don't know, Mal... Just to meet with me about possible arrangements," he says as nonchalantly as he can though I hear the unsure undertones in his voice.

"Possible... arrangements?"

"Yes."

"Concerning what?" I ask, a tear falling onto my lap before I can try to stop it.

He seems hesitant to answer me, but his honesty wins out, "She said something about training the soldiers for a while... coming into town for a few months at a time and teaching them."

I turn and look at him and he's grimacing like he'd wished he'd phrased his statement differently. "A few months?" I ask, my eyes wide.

"I don't like this any more than you do," he murmurs, as if that'll make things better.

"And what will I do all this time, while you're away and I have to stay here?" I ask, genuinely interested in what he thinks this will mean for us.

He shakes his head at me, "I want you to come with me."

"Which you know I can't do," I say. "There's only my Dad and Ingo left, they can't-"

"You know that's not the truth. When you were young they managed just fine," he points out.

"That was a different time. My dad and Ingo are getting older, they need more help," I say, though I hate that it's the truth.

He walks closer to me, sitting in the chair still. He lays his hands on my shoulders, letting them slip down to squeeze my arms gently. He coaxes me up to stand and takes a step to my side to scoop me up into his arms, my legs dangling over his forearm, my back resting against his bicep. My arms are draped loosely around his neck, my face propped up against his shoulder. He walks us over to the bed, sitting down and inching backward until he's leaning against the wall, me, still cradled in his arms.

"Do you remember when we were younger, we were playing in the barn one day, and one of the cows kicked me?" he asks, a smile toying with his lips.

I nod, trapped in his sparkling eyes.

"Remember how it broke my rib, and for a minute I couldn't breathe?"

I nod again, trying to find why he looks upon this memory with happiness.

"When you brought your dad in to help me, you asked him if I was dead," he says with a quiet chuckle.

I smile, laughing gently as I look down, my fingers playing with the ties at his throat on his tunic.

"But one thing I remember is laying on the ground, and looking over at you standing there and watching me. You were crying hard. You weren't wearing any shoes," he says.

"I wasn't?" I ask, looking back up at him.

He shakes his head back and forth, his lip in between his teeth. "I'd never seen such dainty feet, such slender little ankles. They were so pretty."

I snicker as a crimson blush colors my cheeks. "And probably filthy."

He shrugs. "I don't remember. I remember watching your toes curling into the dirt as your dad tried to get me to breath properly. It was like you were so nervous," he says, his hand slipping under the skirt of my dress to curl his fingers around my calf.

"Well, I thought you were dead at first, so," I explain.

"You still do that. When you're nervous your toes curl up," he says, looking down at me affectionately. "Did you know that?"

I shake my head, the dimples in my cheeks deepening as I grin wider.

"When you were just sitting at the vanity, they were doing it."

"Really?" I ask, my nose wrinkling.

"You don't need to be worried about me," he says, touching his fingers to my lips, "nothing is going to happen."

"I don't worry about you being hurt. I worry about... just, being apart from you," I admit.

He presses a kiss to my temple, his hand on my leg gently rubbing up and down in a comforting pattern. He lets his fingers slide down to my heel, the sensitive skin reflexively making me pull my knee up to my chest, my foot out of his reach.

"That tickles," I complain with a smirk.

He reaches up and grabs my retracted ankle, pulling it back down to meet the other one. He pulls the fabric concealing my feet back and puts his hand on my shin, gently bringing his hand down until it reaches the top of my foot. I clench my fist, trying not to squirm in his grasp and laugh as my foot recoils beyond my control.

He laughs under his breath, his eyes down as he touches a finger to each of my toes, watching as my body reacts of its own accord to his touches.

Each toe flinches, every time our laughing increasing in volume until the buoyancy of happiness is keeping us high above the dark water we are submerged in far too often. For a moment I forget that he's going away, and I quickly try to regain that sense of weightlessness, I tell myself that we'll sit here on our bed for all of tomorrow, rather than him riding towards the castle. It's enough to seal me in this moment for the time being.

I look up at him with his goofy boyish grin smiling down at my feet and then his attention is drawn towards me, my heart squeezing painfully inside my chest when our eyes connect and for a brief moment I think he's seeing inside of me. I don't want to have to go a day without seeing his face, without him looking at me this way. And yet, I'll have to.

I lift my finger gingerly to his face and trace it along the small white scar along his cheekbone, long since healed since the end of his journey. It will never fully fade.

"He's going to be fine, Malon. He's a strong boy," my father says, closing the door of my room so I can suffer in silence.

I've never felt so nervous, never felt so sick to my stomach when I wasn't ill. I've been sitting on my bad for the past few hours, just waiting, and waiting... and waiting. Every small sound, every distant noise draws my attention. I feel completely on edge, I feel like dying. My toes curl and uncurl and curl again, trying to relieve some of the tension in my body though it does little good. I clench the pendant he made me tight in my hand, my palms sweating, the smooth surface slipping through my fingers.

And then the floor shakes only slightly, the picture on my wall rattling. I stand up, my nerves suddenly firing beyond control, and rush to my door. I tuck the pendant away into a pocket on my skirt and fly down the stairs and out of the house. I hurry down the path to the entrance of the ranch, looking towards Castle Town to seek out the cause.

What I find pierces my heart. His tower is crumbling to the ground, dust and smoke rising from where it lays.

Link was in that tower.

I collapse to the ground, my hands covering my mouth as I feel like my heart is trying to rip its way through my throat, sounds I've never made before coming from my mouth, sounds of anguish. I hear the door open and close abruptly as my dad follows me, rushing back to my side. "Malon," he says, his voice filled with anxiety.

I curl over my knees, feeling like I'm going to throw up, feeling like my world is coming to an end.

"Malon, come on sweat pea," he says gently, trying to help me up.

I press the heals of my hands to my eye sockets, shaking my head as if that'll erase the image I just saw. "He was in – in that t-tower, Dad," I hiccup.

"Mal, I... I know he made it out," he says, petting my hair gently.

"How?" I ask, pleading for an answer to convince me.

He hesitates, not at all reassuring me. "Because I refuse to believe that after everything... everything he's been through, that this is his end."

I lean into his arms, coughing out relentless sobs, hoping with all of my heart that he's still alive. We sit at the entrance of the ranch watching the town, waiting for news, waiting for some signal to tell us what's happening. There's a storm swirling above where the castle once stood, thunder echoing across the plains of Hyrule.

And we wait, and wait, my toes curling in the grass as I mouth prayers to myself, prayers for his safety.

When I'm about to give up, give up on the hope my father holds, I see a light descending upon the tower, opening and growing wider the closer it gets. It opens like a funnel and then suddenly the wide opening closes abruptly and all that's left is a thin strand of light from the ground to the sky. Then like a flash of lightning, it disappears, the dark clouds that had been circling above the town, dissipating. I gasp, standing up as the clouds give way to a clear night, the stars and moon clear above us for the first time since I was a little girl.

Could this be it?

A swift wind rushes in all directions from the castle, my hair whipping past me as I blink the tears away from my eyes, the wind drying them. And something fills my heart, something I'm not familiar with... but it feels good. It's like all the dread I've ever felt has been sucked straight out of me and what's left is a raw naivety I only ever felt at a young age.

I don't need any more of a confirmation. I know that he's done it, that he's saved all of us.

But it does help when the cheers of people throughout the land disrupt the calm.

Everyone in Hyrule is here except for him, the Princess, and the sages. I do enjoy myself and the company of so many truly joyful people, but I can't deny the craving in the back of my mind to see him, just to know that he's alright. I miss him.

I look up at the stars, having never seen them shine so brightly it's like the sky is decorated with glitter. The sky is so blue, not a black-grey like it always has been. It's like in the stories I was told as a child, like the pictures in my room Mama painted. I never thought that it actually looked like that.

I see something trickle through the night high above me then, several shimmering lights, all different colors. They're not stars, but they capture my attention as the drift away. There's something ethereal about the way they move, like they're souls moving with purpose and dignity.

Angels maybe, watching our world shine bright finally. And if not angels, they must be souls of high importance. Maybe they're even our own sages.

It's late though, the party going through the night and I'm sure it's almost dawn. My feet hurt from dancing, my cheeks from laughing, my throat from singing, but I feel mostly at peace. The Gorons have started to filter out of the ranch, the Zoras as well. Most of the knights have to help one another find their way home, too drunk to walk in a straight line. My father and Ingo have scarlet cheeks, laughing hysterically at some unknown joke. I like the sight of it, it's like back when they were friends before all of this happened, before Ingo lost his carefree soul. Before Dad left.

Things are starting to fall back into place. The only thing missing is him.

One of the girls from the village comes up to me, her cuccos in her arms. We'd become friends over the years and I realized I really enjoyed it, having a girl friend. I told her everything about Link, and she told me all about her own troubles in love. The conversation was exciting in a way I'd never known. Her cheeks are rosy as she passes, coming up to hug me goodbye.

She has that look in her eye as she pulls back, like she can tell there's something nagging at me.

"He'll be home soon, Malon. Don't worry," she says softly.

I place my hand over the small lump in my pocket where the pendant sits. "I know," I murmur, hoping she's right, trying to take comfort in the fact that everyone believes that he's safe. "Thanks for coming tonight."

I sit with my knees pulled up to my chest, my arms folded on my knees with my chin resting on my forearms. He sits in a similar way, watching me with narrowed eyes like he's trying to figure something out.

"What?" I ask.

"I'm thinking," he says.

"'Bout what?" I ask.

"You... and me, but mostly you," he says.

I push myself forward onto my feet and grasp his shoulders with my hands, pushing him back onto the grass, following him down so that I lay looking down at him, my hair shielding us from any snooping horses. He grins up at me, like this is where he'd wanted to be all along. "What about me, and you, but mostly me?"

He wraps his arms around my waist, pursing his lips as he studies my eyes. "About what I'm going to do without you if I have to leave... about how much I love you. About how much I really don't want to go."

"I would say, just don't, but I know you feel obligated," I say, letting my fingers toy with his hair.

He smiles that smile that I absolutely adore, that smile that I looked forward to seeing every day he wasn't with me. The single dimple in his left cheek shows itself, the scar on his lower lip turning white. "You know me well."

"That shouldn't surprise you," I say with a smirk.

"Mal," he says so gently that my heart aches, he can probably feel it thump erratically against his, "you surprise me every day."

I lean down and rest the bridge of my nose against his chin, his lips finding a place on my forehead. "What will I do while you're away?" I ask him.

"I'll only be gone for a few days," he reminds me in a hushed voice.

"No... that I'll cope with. But what about when you're away months at a time?"

I can feel his lips shifting against my skin, like he's biting the inside of his cheek. His hands find my shoulders then and push me back gently so he can look into my eyes. He has a puzzled expression on his face as his fingers stray from my waist and drift down my cheek, pausing at my lips for a brief moment. "What will I do when I can't see your face every day?" he asks me instead of answering my question.

As if on cue, the wooden pendant I'm wearing around my neck on a simple chain, the one he'd made me when he was seventeen, slips from inside my shirt where I'd tucked it. It rests against his collarbone until his hand lifts it into his grasp to examine it. He lets out a single laugh as he eyes it.

"I remember when I made this for you," he murmurs.

"It was so when you were away, that I'd remember you," I say softly.

"I don't need anything to remember you by... but I want something like this with me so that everyone knows that I have you, everyone can see that I'm not alone," he says, twirling the pendant in his fingers.

I lean on my elbows, reaching up around my neck to undo the clasp. I take his palm and fold the necklace into his hands, curling his fingers over it with my own. "There, now you have something."

"But this is yours," he says, a crease appearing between his eyebrows.

"Yes, it is. So I want you to take it with you, and then bring it back home safe to me. Can you do that for me?" I ask.

"I think so," he whispers.

"That's all I need. For you to bring this home safe and sound," I say, watching his eyes change as he interprets my meaning. All I need is for him to come home safe and sound. The blue in his eyes becomes turbulent, the sign I've come to know that he's worrying. This puts a pit in my stomach, why should he have to worry about coming home safely?

He reaches around my neck and pulls my lips down to meet his, holding me there for a moment as I savor the touch of his lips on mine, the way his breathing shifts ever so slightly. A low breath is on the back of my neck then, something nudging my head and when I glance up I find a disgruntled horse above us.

"Epona, I'm not hurting him," I chide her.

She snorts and shakes her mane in response.

"Hey girl, you ready to go on a trip tomorrow?" Link asks her.

To this she whinnies in delight.

"That's my best girl," Link says, a smile in his voice like he's triumphed over me, winning over Epona's affection.

I glance down at him with mock irritation, "I thought I was your best girl."

His face softens, the smile fading as that flicker of light ignites his eyes. He sweeps his thumb under my eye, catching something I can't see. "No," he says, "you're my only girl."

Five reviews before next update! Hope to see you guys in the next chapter!