A/N : Hi! This fic is basically going to be a set of related one-shots about Link's journey with Midna. Yes, it will be in chronological order.
The idea got into my head because of MyPie234's review of my story "Semblance" which is just a tiny one shot. She told me to continue it and make a fic :D
And ever since then, these little ideas about their journey have been popping up in my head.
Read and review, pretty please? =)
He spent hours in the dungeon, inhaling the dank smell of mold and decay through his too-sensitive nostrils. The chain clamping tightly on his neck was beginning to itch.
He lost track of time, and finally lay down when he started to see glowing specters along the corridor of his cell.
"Pretty lazy, aren't you?"
The high pitched voice jolted Link from his exhausted slumber, and he started forwards.
The chains snapped him back.
His first impression of Midna was that of a chubby, disproportionate baby.
She spun in circles, squealing out cries in voices he knew didn't belong to her.
"Ne... if you help me, I'll help you. That's the way it works." She picked lazily at her headdress, once she'd reverted to her form. Her tiny feet still hovered over the cold stone ground as she came to the bars of the cell. "But I'm not going to help just any brainless peasant."
She caressed the metal with one hand, the other beside her. An audible snap made him jump again and he turned around to see that his chain had been severed.
"Get out of the cell, and then all you'll have to do is follow what I tell you. Simple, ne?" Her single exposed eye was playful. She leaned back into the air behind her and floated lazily in front of him.
He didn't know who she was, or what she wanted, but at that moment in time, he was lost. Ilia was gone, he didn't know if Colin and the other children were safe. She may not have been help, but she was something. Staying in the cage long enough to starve to death did not appeal to him. He sniffed around, ignoring his audience.
"I saw you try to attack them..." she snorted.
"You're hopeless, worse than anybody I've seen."
She flipped into a sitting position again. "Do you even know where we are?"
For the most part, Link ignored her. She did not seem to expect any replies from him and continued chattering, stopping to grin at him only when he growled at her out of impatience.
The familiar scent of hay tickled his nose at one end of the cell.
An exaggerated sigh left her. "Does it really take you this long just to find a way out?" She cupped her face in her hands.
When he'd first woken up, disorientation and faint nausea had gripped him, making him heave with the novelty of being able to smell everything around him with almost painful intensity. His nerves had seemed tangled up and sluggish.
But instinct was ground into him, whether he knew it or not, and his paws scratched at the mixture of mud and hay.
As soon as he got out, the pressure on his back from squeezing through was replaced with the lighter one of Midna's body.
Instinct also wanted him to throw her off.
Link thrashed around, his canines bared. His vision swam red, and suddenly his body was bucking, trying to fling her off.
Nothing made sense, his limbs weren't listening to him. It was like drowning; you kicked out irrationally, only half aware of what you were doing. Her heels were digging into his flanks, and he rammed his side hard against the wall, trying to dislodge her.
And then she nipped his ear and held it between her teeth.
"Throw me off, and what will you do?", she said it lazily, as if she didn't care.
He stilled, his senses focused on her sharp fangs digging into the soft skin of his wolf ears.
"You listen to what I say, and you'll get them back. Weren't you paying attention? " She trailed off with another high pitched giggle and gripping the fur of his mane tightly between her fingers, yanked hard.
It wasn't the beginnings of a friendship. It was more like an absurd parody of partnership.
She let him do all the work, flicking at his forehead or lashing out with her red hair...thing.
She poked orders at him (her directions were always punctuated with a prod or a harsh tug on his fur), orders that, even if he followed led him absolutely nowhere, but somewhere, since he knew he'd never visited this corridor before. The smell was different.
She was antagonistic and strangely cheerful, as though everything was fine, and this was how the world always was.
And it comforted him.
Disclaimer : The Legend of Zelda does not belong to me.