Malon's Song
Malon had always been an early riser. Since the fall of Castle Town, she took to waking up even earlier. Before daylight, there was no one to bother her. No one to scream and strike her and call her a fool. She was alone with the horses.
Moving silently to not wake Ingo, she donned a simple woolen dress and stepped out to the stables. The winter chill stung her face, waking her up better than any cup of coffee. A new coat of snow had fallen in the night, wiping away all the footprints. Looking at the smooth white surface, it was as if she were alone in a pristine kingdom of ice.
In the stables, she began tending to the horses; feeding them, brushing them, speaking to them. For all Ingo's faults, he would never do anything to hurt the horses; they were too profitable. Their coats were so smooth they almost shone. All their eyes tracked her as she moved through her duties.
They were the only friends she had left. Talon had abandoned her. The fairy boy had disappeared. But the horses would always be there.
"Morning Epona," she said, coming to her favorite horse in the very back. "Merry Christmas. Want an apple?"
The horse gently ate the fruit from her hand, and Malon stifled a giggle. Horse lips tickled!
She took her time brushing her. Epona always felt warmer, smoother than the others. The horse whinnied as Malon brushed against that secret spot at the back of her neck.
"You happy, girl?" Malon asked.
As if in answer, Epona turned her head to the side, pressing it against Malon. She held her and stroked her broad snout.
"You don't want to be alone on Christmas either, huh? That's okay; we'll always have each other."
Epona whinnied again.
"You want your song?"
Another whinny, more insistent. Malon's voice caught. "I don't think I can sing right now." How could she, in her world of pain? If Ingo heard…
Epona nuzzled harder.
"Okay, but only because it's Christmas. But quietly!"
The melody was so distant it was almost forgotten. She straightened and inhaled the way her mother taught her, expanding her diaphragm to let air fill her lungs. The song came out softly at first, nearly a whisper. Epona watched her carefully. All the other horses too, turning toward her voice. Her confidence returning, she increased the volume and firmed up her tone, adding a shimmering layer of vibrato to the simple melody. The air flowed in a steady stream, from her lungs, up her throat, through her mouth, unfettered, untainted, unrestrained. The song was her pure soul that Ingo could never be allowed to see. The melody was her mother's loving touch from beyond the the grave, living on in defiance of the arrow of time.
When she finished, she realized she was crying. She held Epona, now contented, and her tears splattered on her silky brown head.
"Thank you, Epona," she said. Christmas was always a time for family. This was the closest she was ever likely to come. Even so, she was thankful beyond words for her loyal horse and her gentle mother who had first given her the gift of song.
A/N: I wanted to do something sweet, but... I'm bad at sweet. So you get this instead. Merry Christmas!