Okay, it sounded like a good idea at the time.
Again, Ciela is human, this is AU, the events of Phantom Hourglass never happened, Linebeck and Ciela are married for some reason, and Enjoy!
I don't own anything. Except for the cat thing.
Link rolled over in his weak, oak wood bed, despite the protests coming from its frame; one more heavy creek would be the end of it, he swore.
He turned his nine year old body to greet the matted, no-doubt-lice-infested pillow that lacked the plush feeling it never had, having been made of tufts of grass as opposed to cuckoo feathers. The young boy buried his petite face in its familiar safety, for sleep would not come to him tonight. The entirety of the room was blanketed in the darkness of midnight, leaving nothing familiar in his room that could ease him like any material could for a child. He waved his palm in front of his eyes as a test, only to not be revealed of anything besides a faint shadow. From what he could hear, no one stirred outside at this hour regardless of the calm and cool atmosphere.
Stars lustrously adorned the sky in unprecedented patterns, so ostentatious that Link debated often that they must be in a contest to see who could shine the brightest.
The boy's toes curled up, suddenly feeling the cold air and vulnerable aura exhibited without socks. He wished he had socks to call his own; wool and soft fabric to encase his tiny feet. Alas, he could not have these pleasures unless they were necessary, a time only on the winter. Comfort was not his friend right now, in the depth of the summer night, where he felt far too excited to sleep. Rest assured, he was tired, but to a child, the world was a playground; wasting a single second was ridiculous. His parents would never dream of letting him travel beyond the premises of their home (which was a decent sized steamboat docked at a harbor) during the night. To quote Link's mother, "The world is a very different place at night."
The possibilities of that meaning were endless, giving way to imaginative endeavors that depicted ferocious dragons, shining swords, active volcanoes, and perhaps even a princess in distress. Although no trace of these existed in the daylight world, he was positive they lurked about after he had gone to bed.
Floorboards moaned outside of his door, and Link closed his eyes reflexively in an effort to feign sleep. The footsteps moved further into the other room, yet Link kept his eyes sealed shut. The footsteps were of boots, And in turn, undoubtedly his fathers. The pad of elegant, graceful bare feet greeted them, and silence no longer ensued.
"You're late, Linebeck," she mused, turning away and seating herself in a near ancient rocking chair.
"Missed me, did you, Sparkles?" He grinned coyly, taking off his boots to reveal tired and aching feet.
His wife huffed, "No, but your son did." A scowl found its way to her face, "He kept asking for you; he wanted to play a card game after dinner. What was I supposed to tell him when even I didn't know where you were?"
Linebeck waved his hand dismissively, and she winced unintentionally, "He's fine, Ciela." He added, "Don't wince, I'd never hit you."
Ciela- calm, content, understanding Ciela- knew this to be true, for she trusted her husband entirely. She had her reasons, however, to be uneasy around him. She pushed her blonde hair back behind her shoulders, stood up, and straightened her back, looking back into his eyes with integrity, "You can be pretty damn frightening when you're drunk."
It was Linebeck's turn to wince, now. He didn't drink heavily that often, maybe three times a month, and when he did, he liked to think he acted entertaining, not frightening. Didn't people drink for fun sometimes? That is what sailors do on a Friday night, fatigued from a long day out on the seas; they head down to the tavern with a friend or two, and drink some rum. And yes, sometimes, it wasn't just some alcohol, it was a lot. Linebeck, though, still didn't see why he couldn't spend an evening (well, entire night) having some downright fun. He almost laughed to himself; his daily life was never fun anyway, especially since...
He paused in his train of thought, and then finished the idea.
...especially since he had gotten married and had a child.
He never caused any harm in his slightly drunken state, he supposed, as he slept off the hangover by noon, and made it home by eleven thirty at night.
The more he thought about it, though, it seemed as though in recent months, this occurrence wasn't three times a month, it was five. The hangover, in turn, lasted until the evening as opposed to noon, and the time he got home had been pushing further and further ahead. The harder and deeper Linebeck thought- and it hurt to think- the more it sounded problematic.
"I don't have an alcohol problem." He shouted impulsively.
Ciela blinked and leaned to the side a bit, eyeing him incredulously, "I..." She paused, laughing in an almost perplexed manner, "I never said you did. I didn't even allude to it."
Linebeck's face flushed red, and suddenly the button on his coat held utmost fascination, "I just thought..."
"Thought I might associate alcoholism with you because of your father's...issue." Ciela finished his sentence, something she had grown very good at.
Linebeck used this opportunity to cover up his own self-guilt, "Yes... I don't want to end up like him. Awful man."
Linebeck's father, as he had told Ciela once, had ended his own life surprisingly early at age twenty-seven from alcohol poisoning. There was little that the sea captain could recall of his father, other than the shameful stories his mother told him throughout the course of his childhood. The man, he learned, was not as horrid as the stories proclaimed, however, the obsession he had with the bottle is hereditary.
The corners of Ciela's mouth turned downward as she reached up to enfold her arms around her husband's neck. Her calves propelled her up onto toes, closing the four inch gap between her and Linebeck. She kissed him heavily on the lips, to which he quickly returned. They hardly hesitated in deepening the kiss, until Ciela pulled back unconventionally.
"You've been drinking," She stated blatantly, "I can taste the alcohol on your breath."
Linebeck swallowed hard, having been undoubtedly caught. He was trapped, and his eyes widened like that of a fish behind glass.
"I..." He closed his eyes, expecting heavy reprimand and a long lecture.
Ciela sighed and sat back down, rubbing her temple in a stressed manner. She didn't mind him drinking, not at all, yet this was the second time this week he had come home late with the powerful, intoxicating, intense stench of beer. Although he didn't appear to be completely wasted, she could see his unbalanced posture, sleepy eyes, and hear the slight slur to his voice all quite clearly. Until just moments ago, she chose to ignore these factors.
"It's starting to look like you can't stop," she noted, "Goddesses, is there something bothering you? Depression? Your father? Anything that's making you get a drinking habit?"
Linebeck reminisced on what had crossed his mind earlier: regretting having settled down to start a family. He refused to say that. That was heartless.
"It's not like you're perfect!" Linebeck snapped hotly, "What about that memory problem of yours? You can't remember a thing half of the time."
"That," Ciela gritted her teeth, "I can't control at all." She took a bold step towards him, pointing a finger accusatively towards him, "You, on the other hand, can make decisions for yourself when it comes to drinking."
"Or," he mused sarcastically, "The fact that you're borderline-"
"Stop." Ciela ordered, "I don't want to think about it. That wasn't even recent, either. Years have passed since then."
Her fists clenched, and she turned away from his gaze. If he brought this up, she would walk off of the ship and onto the shore where she would find an inn to stay at for the night.
"...borderline anorexic." He finished smartly, crossing his arms at his chest.
Ciela spun around, tearing towards him whilst tears built up in her eyes, blurring her vision.
"You're SO immature," she cried, pushing his torso-a futile effort-as her anger escalated, "Sometimes I'm sure you're the most insensitive person on the world, and I can't..." She inhaled heavily, "Linebeck, I can't be around someone who won't bother to consider my feelings."
Regret instantly filled the sea captain's chest, replacing the childish revenge that had thrived there moments before.
Ciela had now turned away, obviously trying to hinder her tears; it was a rare event that anyone saw Ciela cry, for she wouldn't allow it. He pocketed his hands, and turned to look at the parallel side of the cabin. To his shock, the door to Link's room was wide open, something that never happened while the boy slept at night; moreover, Link couldn't be in his room.
"Sparkles," he whispered, a hint of affection adorning his voice for good measure.
She turned only slightly in acknowledgment, whereupon he continued, "I think Link is awake. He probably heard our..." He dared not say 'fight'. Too strong a word was 'fight', and this would be a first outside of petty, pathetic arguments. No, he refused to create that precedent. "...conversation and left." He concluded.
Linebeck wasn't sure, but she muttered something in retaliation that sounded akin to, "Good."
Glancing up the steps that led to the upper deck, he begrudgingly noticed that the door was wide open, letting a cool breeze of nocturnal wind into the cabin.
It seemed only right that he should go out and find the boy and prevent him from becoming lost in the middle of the night and destroyed by monsters. Plus, he'd get a chance to clear his head from all the events, and an opportunity to calm his temper.
After motioning to the door, Ciela nodded silently, and he excited the ship swiftly.
Ciela remained where she stood, arms folded at her chest and her head tilted towards the floor. The scratched, moldy, filthy cabin floor was only a reminder of the obvious fact that she and her family were dirt poor, having just barely enough to get by with purchasing only the bare minimum amount of food and clothing. With Linebeck's frequent trips to the tavern, they were losing hundreds of rupees per month. She felt suddenly sick and leaned her frame against the wall. How selfish must he be to spend money they need to keep their child alive on alcohol? Brain buzzing with anger, she sat down. Could she have been a little less harsh, though?
Perhaps.
A gentler way of expressing her concern was always an aspect of improvement. His comments burned slowly and fiercely, filling her to the brim with unwanted hatred for him. Goddesses, no, she didn't hate him, but to mock her for having memory problems, or being plauged with an eating disorder that was long gone? That wasn't in the least bit fair.
Maybe it would've been better if she hadn't argued with him in the first place, or not have been so untrusting, and left the matter alone.
One look at their deteriorating home and her son's thin frame, however, made her reconsider, knowing that the money had to be put to use somewhere else rather than rum.
When he returned home with Link, she decided, they would sit down and talk, excluding any yelling, name-calling, or accusations.
A small voice in her head muttered, "If he returns home."
She knew he would come back. He might be a cowardly, irresponsible, immature, immoral person, but he was by no means a cruel man.
At least, she hoped.
Linebeck crossed the stone path that served as the main road in town, following a track of small footprints. He wrapped his arms I'm front of his chest, looking around the area experimentally. His vision was severely impaired due to the only light being that if the stars and waning crescent moon. He shivered as a gentle breeze blew through, and pressed forward, hesitating slightly.
A snake darted in his path, a projectile from the bushes, and he stepped back in shock for a brief moment. He shook his head, continuing on the path, muttering, "Stupid suicidal creatures."
It had been years since he had traversed the land under the veneer of darkness by himself. He had forgotten the eerie howl of the wind that gusted in increments, or the way the sound of a single leaf falling to the ground could tease the brain into believing it was an earthquake.
The footprints suddenly stopped. His eyes looked ahead, and he found himself beneath an ancient oak tree; half of it thrived in the summer air, and the other half was dead and stiff looking without its leaves. Scuff marks adorned the bark, and he looked up into the tree, squinting his eyes in the darkness.
"Link," He called out experimentally, "Link, are you up there?"
Perhaps he heard a sound, but the wind gusted violently, and the rustling of leaves overtook his hearing range. As a result, he reiterated, "Link, if you're up there, call out so I can hear you."
Unbeknownst to the tired sea captain, a pair of luminescent red eyes observed him from the brush.
Ciela rubbed her temple in a fatigued fashion, and began opening the portholes to alleviate the stuffiness of the cabin. She shuffled into Link's empty room to do so, and found that a piece of parchment had been folded and left on Link's bed. She picked it up with a hasty swipe of her hand, unfolding it and resting her eyes on the words. It read:
Dear Mother and Father,
I do not like it when you two fight for silly reasons. It makes me feel unappreciated and unloved. If you two don't love each other, then how can you love me? I've left the ship and headed toward the mainland where I will fight dragons and monsters. You can try to find me, but you won't.
Your son,
Link
The sloppy ink pooled at the bottom of the letter, making it nearly illegible. Ciela gasped, refolding the letter and discarding it. Only nine years old was he, yet far more intelligent than herself and Linebeck, but immature and incapable of understanding the adult world in its entirety. How blessed he was for that.
She swallowed herself pity and exited the room, dashing up the stairs as fast as her legs would carry her. The deck of the ship didn't sway under her movement, for the waves were placid. She made the wary jump from the deck to the dock, and took in her surroundings. The world seemed empty; the town of which she knew so well was a different locality than she remembered in the daylight hours. None of this deterred her, though, as courage was the substance her heart pumped out as well as blood. Her pace quickened, becoming a run, as she strode across the cool grass, calling out her son's name.
Ciela eventually stopped to catch her breath and examined the itinerary of which she had taken: she had been blindly searching for ten minutes, yet still hadn't found a clue. Plus, she had to admit she was a bit lost.
"Link!" She called out in exasperation, seating herself sloppily on the ground and letting her back hit the earth without a care. The world was cruel and harsh by the mercy of night, and her only child was wondering around in it because she had to have a pathetic fight with Linebeck. She closed her eyes, gripping the grass with her fingers until it came out by the roots. Her eyes opened to the sound of feet running toward her, and she sat up, hoping it to be Link. To her partial dismay, she made out the figure of Linebeck, and she folded her arms.
"Ciela," He sighed, regaining his own breath, "I think Link might be up in that tree over there." He pointed to where he stood only moments prior.
"How...?" She addressed him incredulously.
"I followed the footsteps." Linebeck stated simply, shrugging and jerking his head to the area behind him.
Ciela suddenly felt ridiculously stupid, having been devoid of the common sense to look around for clues. She bit her lip and said nothing as she brought herself to her feet. Linebeck took off at a decent pace that she could keep up with, making his way towards the tree in question.
"You should've stayed in the ship," Linebeck noted, slowing his speed for her own benefit, "It's not safe out here."
"Not safe?" Ciela scoffed, clearly offended, "Then shouldn't you be back home?"
Linebeck, as he always did, ignored her insult. He stopped at the base of the tree, and motioned upward, "I've tried calling out for him, but he won't answer."
"Maybe he's not up there," Ciela suggested, "We're just wasting our time."
"Have you got any evidence to prove that he isn't up there?" Linebeck smirked almost grimly.
Ciela sighed dramatically, "Help me climb up into the tree."
"What?" Linebeck blinked, "No, help me up the tree. You'll just get hurt."
Ciela closed her eyes and forced down every remark about how sexist he was, "Just...do it. I've a better chance of convincing him to come down, and I'm more agile than you are."
Linebeck complied unwillingly, and grabbed Ciela by the waist before she could expect it, hoisting her up high enough to where she could grab onto a branch. She did so, and clambered up with strength Linebeck didn't realize she had. Ciela nodded to him, and disappeared into the collage of branches and leaves. Linebeck, uneasy by his newfound loneliness, swallowed and looked around anxiously. He looked behind the tree, behind himself, and then behind the tree again. He shuddered, and shut his eyes, imagining the warmth of his ship. He reopened his eyes and to his horror, noticed the red eyes in the bushes, boring into him like a nail. His breath stopped halfway in his lungs, and his heartbeat pounded so loudly he could hardly think. When his ability to inhale returned to him, as well as the thought process, he noticed that the set of eyes didn't blink, nor did they dart around to observe the surroundings. Linebeck relaxed a little, supporting his hope on the notion that perhaps this was a figment of his imagination- a trick of the plants under the moonlight- until they blinked. These two, round, blood-red eyes blinked simultaneously and reopened as vibrant as ever.
"Ciela...?" He gasped quietly, his voice high and soft. He cleared his throat, inching his way towards the tree, "Ciela?"
To his relief, the woman appeared moments later in an opening in the tree's thick leaf cover, looking at him in his pathetic state, "What?" Link appeared next to her, obviously convinced under her persuasion to come home.
"There are...eyes over there." He pointed a shaking finger over to his right and looked up at her with a plea for sympathy.
Ciela grabbed hold of a branch and leaned over the ground, turning her head to where his finger depicted. She too, froze, darting her eyes back and forth from Linebeck to the eyes. "Climb up the tree," She whispered, "Now." Ciela directed Link up further into the tree where he would be undoubtedly safe.
Ciela leaned over the branch nearest to the ground and extended her arm as far as it would go. Linebeck nervously inched towards the tree, and placed his foot on a protruding piece of bark before projecting himself up towards her hand and latching onto it. She gasped unintentionally at the new weight upon her one arm, forcing her to latch her feet onto a branch near her legs. She pulled as hard as her muscles would allow, but it would not suffice; her arm was far too weak for this act.
"Try to kick your legs on the tree trunk to make your way up," Ciela ordered, and inhaled heavily.
Linebeck obliged, and struck the tree trunk with his boots as if running up the side. Progress was achieved, until his foot scraped heavily and with much noise against the bark. An uproarious snarl, hiss, and then roar followed, and both adult's eyes grew wide. From the bushes bounded a hideous, ferocious beast, similar in appearance to a cat, yet far larger and stronger. Linebeck continued hastily in his effort to climb the tree, whilst Ciela held onto his hand with as much force as her body could muster. The creature was now a mere twenty feet away; the distance of the beast to them was directly proportional to the amount of energy the two had left. Like a slingshot, the animal leapt from the ground and, with its massive jaws agape, latched onto the sailor's legs.
Ciela screamed with terror- horrified and unable to comprehend the events- as Linebeck kissed her hand and fell to the ground at the feet of the beast. The courage Ciela had held up to this point vanished, and she turned from the scene; perhaps her eyes did not visibly witness the death of her husband, but his screams would remain with her forever.
There was no funeral, for the remains of the body were a horrendous sight, and Ciela had requested there not be one. A deep depression and silence overtook the usually optimistic and bright woman; even more so, however, was the guilt that rested with her. He had died angry with her, the snarky and mean remarks she had always thrown at him replayed in her head every minute, and all that she wanted was for them to shut up. She tried drinking alcohol until she couldn't see, but ironically that reminded her of Linebeck and how she needed to stay sane for Link, so she stopped quickly. She went to counselors, fortune-tellers, and even to so-called "magicians", but to no avail- the world had halted, and with it, her love for life.
She found herself on a new island, foreign to her knowledge and peaceful in its aura. Link found some children his age to play with, and Ciela took it upon herself to take a walk. Blindly, she found herself on a cliff, gazing down at the ocean below. Jumping off of it didn't even cross her mind entirely as she sat down and let her feet dangle over the edge. Besides: She would likely survive the fall anyway. The wind grew heavy in pulses like it had done that night, whipping around and tossing her hair behind her like someone had picked it up and began to brush it. Ciela smiled and thought of Linebeck, closed her eyes, and lay down on the soft grass where she fell into a calm sleep for the first time in weeks.
So this is it. Ehh... Let me know what you thought- comments, criticism, thoughts, concerns, food...
Heh.