Obligatory Disclaimer: I do not own Nintendo, nor do I exercise control over any of the characters contained therein. Unless of course, I want to write a story about them, in which case they will do whatever I command.
... it's fuzzy. And mushy. Eeeeeeeee... Here comes yet another of my MarthZeldafluffy fics. I should really write some humor... but that would make you bleed from all available orifices, so I won't.
The day was warm and drowsy, and the scarcity of active thought in Zelda's mind matched it well; few images and fewer words formed blotches of incoherent musings that floated around each other with little order or organization.
Of these very few ideas, the one foremost and most prominent, and also the most enjoyable to her, was the fanciful notion that she was the only thing in the world - at that moment, her heart told her that she and the man with whom her hand was interlocked were blissfully secluded, and that the canopy of gently waving palm trees and the darkness in the wake of the sunset mere minutes ago had been placed there by a cosmic architect for the sole purpose of making the evening perfect.
Her flip-flops, a vivid emerald green to match the grass-turquoise of her summer dress, dragged lazily in the dirt path. The way was slightly packed, as if it had been scarcely beaten down by no more than wind and water, and so peppered with and rocks that even the most limber of travelers would do well to watch carefully her path. Zelda's eyes were not on the road ahead as they should have been, and with each carefree step she skimmed the rocks with dangerous proximity - instead her eyes, blue as the sea and half-lidded, were focused on Marth.
Zelda had always been a woman of sense and substance, but there was something about that night that dulled her awareness and made her simply happy to look at him - at his face, at his hair; anything her ardent gaze could reach... and then there were his eyes, darker than her own but filled with love just the same.
And there was also his voice in her ear, never failing to make her smile... until she realized that she was falling through the air after having stubbed her toe against a boulder. But it didn't matter in the end, for even though she had failed to see the rock, Marth was there to catch her, and she was left with no lesson learned at all; ready to merely laugh at her clumsiness and continue to leave her eyes off the road, using the fall as one more reason to lean on him while mimicking the look of a damsel-in-distress.
The better course would be to make her walk on her own, and to decrease her dependancy on him... but not once had he resisted Zelda's more saccharine advances, and it appeared that he wouldn't start now. There were a million thoughts; a million ideas exchanged wordlessly and contained in a single laugh and a single glance, and once again they continued down the dark starlit path, reinforcing Zelda's growing suspicion that she could die now and die happy.
The evening had started tentatively for all at the Smash Tournament Dormitories - a place which would hold sweet memories for eternity, for that was where Zelda and Marth had met - when the prince had first proposed the weekend outing. To Zelda's slight unease, he had asked her in the midst of some of their friends: Peach, Samus, Fox, Roy... and Link. The blond Hylian had grown a sort of a bad reputation for attempting a few unsavory actions while drunk months ago, and that had ended up as the reason by which Zelda had split up with him (she swore to take to the grave the secret that the real reason had been her growing affection for another).
After that, Link had known for some time that Marth had come in a few weeks later to pick up where he'd left off, but the former had always taken their relationship as a kind of personal insult. As well, it couldn't have been comfortable for any of the others present - watching two of the richest people in the world argue over who would pay the undoubtedly ridiculous bill. That had gone to Marth, as 'paying for Zelda' was one thing of which he never tired.
The actual bill had come up as something just under six hundred American dollars, and a simply ludicrous number of Japanese yen that had lost Zelda somewhere in the millions. Marth, however, hadn't flinched - at least not until Zelda's sidelong glance that clearly said "that was terrible", after which they had, much to the waiter's chagrin, burst out in hysterical sniggers and scattered undercooked fettuccini all over the floor. It was the truth - the meal at the overpriced Italian bistro had been far less than wonderful, and the only dish with food content had easily been the ten-year-old stick of gum Zelda had found in her dress pocket after dinner.
As expected, the two had emerged from the cursed restaurant all-but-dying of laughter. The unexciting food would have put a damper on the day of any other couple, but there was the strange thing about Marth and Zelda - it only made their evening better. To the same degree, when Zelda had still been with Link, he'd always check movie reviews profusely and ensure that it was a good movie before taking her. As a result, she saw a lot of good movies, but couldn't exactly remember when she had last had real fun while doing it; she and Link had laughed very little together, as he'd always seemed interested in the more romantic parts of their relationship.
Marth had never looked to impress her with his amazing taste in film and theater, for he simply didn't have it. From the first date, he might as well have spun in a circle and picked the first movie poster he saw, and as a result of that, Zelda experienced the first bad movie she'd ever seen in her life. And in fact, it was so bad that she and her date had never been able to stop giggling and guffawing loudly in the theater while exchanging snide comments and occasionally throwing popcorn at the screen.
It had seemed strange and new to her at first - to misbehave so openly in a public place, she a princess and he a prince. But even that had its advantages, for no one dared reprimand them even if they so wished - in fact, some of their comments had actually issued laughter from the crowd, and consequently she'd realized, when it was all over... that she'd had fun.
It wasn't as if the notion was new to her. She'd often had fun on her own while horseback riding, swimming, even just reading... but she'd always been obliged to entertain herself. Now she'd had real fun with another person, and from that moment on she'd simply closed her eyes and trusted his judgment - or what little of it there was. If the movie was good, then she saw a good movie, and if it was terrible, all the better. Only weeks after they'd become involved they'd started to finish each other's sentences and laugh about absolutely nothing, becoming notorious in their clique for disrupting a perfectly normal conversation by bursting into happy tears at the mention of a random word or phrase.
But by no means did that make their relationship all laughter and trivial inside jokes. Such was proved on the activities subsequent to the dinner - after their laughter had died down, their wandering had brought them onto a deserted harbor-park where the sun had just begun to sink below the distant mountain-range. Zelda's wide-eyed whisper had been that it was like the beautiful creation of an artist - the newly-exposed sky was painted with ravishing red and orange, as if someone had taken paint and paintbrush in a divine hand and splashed vibrant colors across the sky with wide, lazy strokes... and in the midst of it all, the bright orb of the sun had somehow lost its glaring harshness and glowed a warm ember-gold.
A solitary bench on the waterside had been their resting spot for the next hour, as they watched the sun and its rays dive slowly into the mountains. As it had grown darker, Zelda had simply allowed the environment to take effect, and the romantic gestures had happened all on their own, and in their own time. That was the way they functioned as a couple - if the time was right, then something happened, a kiss or more... but if it didn't have to happen, it simply didn't.
Thus the physical romance in Zelda's life was less frequent than before, when Link had used every opportunity he could find to smother her in kisses and too-close embraces... but when it did happen - when, before she knew it, the perfect moment had crept up on her and suddenly she and Marth were interlocked in a way only true lovers could have been... she could swear she'd died and gone to heaven.
Minutes later, after having left the park, she walked along the path hand-in-hand with him in the night that was still darkening with the prolonged absence of the sun. Neither needed to speak - they both were comfortable with their silence, as far more had been said without words not long in the past - and once in a long while, a faint white glimmer blinded Zelda's eyes from overhead beyond the roof of palm trees. Although she was drowsy and drunk with happiness, she felt as if every sense was alive - through the thick mist of blackness she could feel the cool, inviting summer breeze playing across her face and her bare arms... and when she reached up with one hand to pull away the hair tie that held back her long sun-colored hair, it billowed out behind her like a silk curtain.
When the refreshing sensation whistled across the back of her neck and ticked her ears, she couldn't help but laugh - a light, gleeful chuckle that often gathered stares from anyone... and it didn't fail now. When she glanced to her left, Marth was gazing at her, and there was a wide smile on his face. Zelda's hand came to her flying hair to keep it out of her face, and carelessly she tucked a strand behind her ear.
"What?" she asked, simply unable to discard the infectious grin, and with his free hand Marth reached over to push the remaining golden rivulets out of Zelda's face. They slowly came to a halt, and Zelda had another pleasant tingle as she felt his hand on the side of her face, guiding her eyes upwards into his as he scrutinized every inch of her face.
"You're a dream come true," he told her with a grin that reminded her of a smitten school boy, "that's all."
A small geyser in Zelda's stomach bubbled happily. Marth spoke often enough about her supposed beauty, and she soaked it up like a sponge... but she attempted to stifle her giddiness and donned her best pout, as if to repeat, "that's all?"
As Marth grinned at her through shaggy cerulean bangs, loose from his usual golden coronet, Zelda knew with a sneaking certainty that there was something sinister afoot. While she didn't want to make assumptions, there was something about the roguish gleam in his eye that made her suspicious... and then she loosed an indignant shriek as the remainder of her golden hair, usually held in check by a tiny-yet-ridiculously-expensive silver tiara, cascaded over her face in a mess of thick curls.
"Hey!"
Zelda threw her head back to cast the massive waves over her head and off her face, and after looking wildly around, saw Marth mere feet away, the miniscule hair implement in his hand, waving it tauntingly in the air at her and still grinning - although he appeared slightly shocked at exactly how much hair had been cleverly hidden underneath such a tiny crown.
"Give that back!"
The Smash Tournament required relatively formal garb for all contestants, and therefore forced her into a constricting pink gown during battles, but Zeldawas a good runner. The jade summer dress allowed her plenty of room to pump her legs, and she managed to kick off her flip-flops within a few seconds of giving chase to the quickly retreating Marth. Her hair felt like a badly-made, heavy cotton hat that sat too low on the back of her neck, and she decided that when she caught Marth she would have to shove his face in it just to show him how uncomfortably fluffy it got when she neglected to blow-dry it.
Not that he would mind, she told herself smugly as she bent her torso low into the wind, widening her stride. But while she was fast, the dress was tight around her long strides, and simple slacks made Marth much faster. He quickly put enough distance between them to turn around and jog backwards in an infuriatingly nonchalant manner.
"You wait till I catch you," she threatened, pumping her fist in the air and donning her best enraged expression, "You'll be sorry!"
"What's my punishment?" he called back playfully, and Zelda didn't even bother answering, because they both knew the answer to that - the blonde princess was quick to forgive and even quicker to overcompensate in terms of affection.
The air was full of laughter as Marth turned again and kept running, the glittering tiara clutched in one hand. Zelda noted with satisfaction that there was a spot of pure blackness ahead. The night sky was quickly approaching, and there would undoubtedly be little place to run after they cleared the road of overhanging palm trees. A few moments had passed before she realized that the gap between them had decreased alarmingly, and wondered if she was truly quick enough to catch up with him... but then she saw that he wasn't running anymore; he had come to a halt just as soon as he cleared the palm canopy.
A grin crossed her lips. She didn't know why he had stopped, but it had been the biggest mistake of his life. Twin cries of surprise split the air as Zelda hit him running, her head tucked to the side as her chest and shoulders crashed into his back.
Knowing that in a perfect world, Marth would have given enough support to merely be pushed a few feet, Zelda hadn't held back. But what she hadn't expected was for him to be either so distracted or so 'out of it' that he offered no resistance whatsoever, and went down just as easily as if Zelda had tackled a bean-bag. She, of course, had little time to react, and thus clung to the back of his shirt the whole way down.
Lice, was her first thought, preceding even the obligatory assessment of injury. However, after she was done freaking out about the proximity of her hair to the sand, she was finally able to see that there was sand here, white and soft... they were near the beach.
"Listen, Zel," Marth began, his voice weirdly muffled, and Zelda realized with a start that her rear end was positioned comfortably on his back, "that was a nice tackle, but... look up."
As she hurriedly rose from her seat and turned her eyes skyward, the breath was simply knocked from her lungs. For as far as the black sky stretched, there were glimmering dots of light, sparkling and glowing like millions of tiny eyes winking at her from the heavens. There was darkness all around, sheer and pure, and because of it, the stars had never looked so beautiful.
"Goddesses," Zelda whispered, her eyes wide and awed, "it's beautiful... I haven't seen them like this since - since Altea!"
She really hadn't. Around the Smash Dorms, there was far too much light pollution to see much of the stars at night, and at her home in Hyrule, there had never been a cloudless night. But once, she and Marth had taken a week off from the Tournament to visit his homeland, and she couldn't remember a more beautiful place. The towns themselves had been unique, a fascinating mixture of Japanese and European culture, followers of bushido and chivalry alike - a place where the citizens lived not only in love of their country, but love of their ruler as well, which meant that Zelda, his chosen consort, was given treatment that rivaled that of her own home.
War had ravaged surrounding lands and taken a toll on the villages and their peoples, but the magnificence of the surrounding land had been untouched - wherever she had turned, she'd seen things green and alive, and there were placid lakes on the hills surrounding the valley where Altea castle was located... and at night, when every light in the castle-town was extinguished, there remained pitch-blackness and a cloudless sky in which thousands of stars could shine unabated. The first night alone, Zelda and Marth had spent the night outside on a secluded hillside, lying side-by-side on the soft grass and gazing upwards into the stars.
"Oh my God!"
The leakage of American language had all but taken over her own religion. But this, Zelda felt, was an appropriate occasion.
"A shooting star! Did you see that?"
"No, I missed that one. I saw one before, though... you know, right before you nearly killed me."
She whirled around and bent down slightly towards Marth, who was still sitting in the sand where Zelda had crashed into him. She threw out a hand and grabbed his wrist, putting all of her own weight into pulling him up from the ground. "You baby. I hardly touched you."
She hauled him forwards, further into the sand and over the beach, scanning the horizon, and then looking around for a good vantage point. Casting her eyes to her right, she saw a hill rising from the white sand and leveling to a flat plane at its apex.
"Look," she called, and then began to pull Marth up the incline, "come on! We have to make a wish together!"
Well, once again, no bad things, no unrest.
PirateGoddess, even though she didn't review - Don't worry about not understanding some of my other stuff (coughSoBelowcough), 'cause I assume you, like me, come to FFnet for the writing... and if you don't, don't tell me :-).
Now then, shall I write part 2? The world may never know...