by Power Shot
The clearing just outside Ordon Village was always filled with lush trees at this time of year. The beauties of spring prevailed through the wildlife, be it the flowers which sprang from every spare inch of the ground, or even the weeds which constantly needed trimming, growing like…well, weeds. Animals crawled through the greenery, a cat who had apparently had her fill of fish and water for the day, a squirrel seeking early sanctuary for his winter nuts in the nooks of a nearby tree. Above, the sun loomed, though its light was beginning to fade, signaling to the village's people that it would soon be time to herd the goats into the stables for their evening rest and return from the fields to dinner with their families.
He was always such a shy one, she thought with just a hint of stubborn annoyance. He still was, in a way, but now his shy demeanor seemed to have become something akin to quiet dignity, the same sense she got from her father's strongest goat: powerful, yet reserved. Even now, in a lover's embrace, he seemed hesitant to yield to the peculiar emotions that she felt in his racing heartbeat. She knew, her head was nestled against the organ, though it was covered by a rough shirt, his suit of mail, and the green tunic of his clothes. The ragged scrap ends of his hair, golden as wheat like hers, mixed so nicely with her elegant curls, she thought absent-mindedly. She breathed with him, and her nose took in the scents of his journeys. Gunpowder and ashes from the mines, pine from the forests, and…some which were too foreign for her to identify, like a particular smell that reeked of a nasty fish on his right gauntlet. But she forgave her lover's odors, though if she had it her way he would have been bathed the instant they had returned to Ordon. But this was enough, she thought, and looked up into his face.
To Ilia, he had always been taller than she was, even in their youth. True, he was no giant, but the way in which his arms folded around her always seemed to both make her feel small and safer than at any other time. He smiled, and she noticed once again how perfect his teeth were and the fact that, though his outfit was smelly, his breath was fresh, a paradox that made Ilia giggle. His eyes, fierce azure in color, were locked on her own emerald gaze. Though he was gentle and loving now, they reminded her of what a powerful warrior he was. Not that she had just his eyes as proof of that; the muscles under his clothes were that of Hyrule's hero, a champion. Her lover.
In the distance, the village's bell rang, signaling the end of the day, disrupting the quiet that the lovers had been enjoying. It rang seven times before it died down, and again nothing but their heartbeats and the soft breeze that caressed them filled their ears. A few feet away, a powerful war horse neighed her desire to be off, and Ilia sighed with a hint of sadness. He broke their embrace, and glanced at the auburn mare with an expression of disappointment on his face.
"Must you go?" she asked suddenly, but a moment afterwards cursed herself for her selfishness. Of course he had to go, there was never a question of doubt about that. He nodded, a bit reluctantly, but took her hand into his and led her to the mare. He wanted to spend as long as he could with her, but unfortunately that time had run up. The horse, attuned with the senses of the beast, knew when he was stalling, and pawed at the ground to express her eagerness, her voice carrying softly through the clearing.
With their free hands, they brushed through the snowy mane of the mare, remembering a time not too long ago, but somehow impossibly distant. They laughed at how much of a boy he had once been, too thick-headed to even wrestle a goat, much less save the world. He chided her at how much a girl she had once been, too stubborn to clue him in on her affections for him. A trickle of tears fell from her eyes, caused by the reminiscing, and his sharpened in concern, wondering what was wrong. He was very thick, and didn't understand the pangs of regret she felt aching in her heart.
She brushed her sobs off in a vain attempt to shield her dignity. Crying over a boy like some love-struck fool, she thought to herself. "It's nothing," she mumbled, and rubbed her cheeks red to get the moisturized evidence of her feelings off her face. "It's just…" Her voice faltered, as if her voice box was somehow afraid of the question she so wished to get off her chest, and of the answer she might receive from him. Ilia took a deep breath to steady her nerves, and clasped her hands around his, refusing to break eye contact with her love.
"Is this goodbye?" Ilia sought to know. At first, his expression was that of disbelief, not understanding what could possibly possess her to think such a thing. But he smiled, and shook his head. Then, to the surprise of Ilia, he lowered his head and kissed her lips, her soft mouth. He would return, when Hyrule was restored to its former glory. He would most certainly return, for her.
Ilia was speechless, stunned by the commonly-shy man's gesture of affection, and in such a public space too! But, before she could scold him for it, he was already on his horse, and riding off through the forest to the vast landscape of Hyrule Field. She watched him leave, arms clasped together against her chest. When she could no longer see him, she sighed, and lowered her arms to her sides. What a fool he was, she thought vaguely, and how clichéd his exit had been.
"Until we meet again," she whispered to him, knowing they would. The air and thoughts of spring in her mind, she turned round and began her stroll back home to her father, Bo, hoping he had remembered it was his day to cook supper.
