Disclaimer: I do not own the Legend of Zelda and no profit is being made from this story. I do like owls, but nobody cares.
Resurrected by a Beamos
Link stepped into the warm shafts of sunlight that patched the floor of the Sandship, breathing hard beneath the chainmail which threatened to drag each breath under. Heaven knew, he was so ready to be done with this thing. So ready to crawl back into a bed somewhere in Skyloft until the cool of night cloaked the island.
And I already freed those frickin' sailors, Link thought grudgingly as he cocked an arrow and aimed it high through the bars in the ceiling. He pulled his arm back. He was glad to have saved the robots, yeah, but he was no idiot. He could guess what was waiting for him in the control room, as had waited for him in the final room of the Ancient Cistern, before the last sacred flame. He felt his eyes slide into focus, the purple Timeshift Stone glinting deep violet in the glaring sun that had long since drenched his undershirt. Aligning arrow with stone, Link took a deep breath. With the exhale, he let the feathers slide from his tensed grip. He saw the arrow spring free, watched the purple jewel flash as it collided and plunged the ship into the past.
Link lowered his bow, as the ghost of a painful memory slid down his spine in a jagged line. He recognized the rubble pile in front of him as once being a Beamos, and as a previous era slid around the ship he slung his bow across his back and readied his sword.
He'd fought plenty of Beamos before, he knew how dispatch one. A couple quick horizontal swipes with his sword and—but wait—couldn't he just use his bow to take out the eye?
Stupid! Why didn't you think of that while you still had it out? Link thought angrily, as the gliding line of the past slid over the floorboards feet from him. He'd have to be quick, he thought, sheathing the Master Sword and—
The Beamos flashed to life in front of him.
Why was he so slow? Link raced to pull his bow into position, but it caught on something. Shit. The Beamos was humming, laser powering up-
Link tried to throw his shield up as the air in the room began to crackle with electric static, but it too was caught. He looked up, straight into the glaring cobalt eye of the Beamos, a deer in the shock of headlights. Electricity launched. Pain rocketed through his veins, and he felt his muscles seize up around the bow shaft still clenched in his hand, jerking of their own accord amid the sudden, instant agony. And then he was released. Everything went black.
The Beamos leered above its victim, uncomprehending. But it spotted a Bokoblin racing from the shadows, electric weapon aloft and sparking. Not knowing anything else, it charged its beam once more and electrocuted the monster, which fell to the floor in a twitching pile.
A twitching pile. Link was looking down at the very same Bokoblin, seizing on the floor, some cortex of its brain fried beyond function.
Several feet from the Bokoblin lay the extinguished hope of heroism, a sizzling green figure twisted awkwardly, the sun still bearing down hard on his still-warm body. The body of a young boy, in a misplaced time, far from home, with no heart of courage beating in his chest.
Wait, what?
He was…he was on the ground! So why could he see himself? Was he…no. He couldn't be.
But he was. His heart was stopped. That's why it didn't pound in his panicked, ghostly chest. He was dead, lying there in the Sandship, nowhere near Zelda—
The Beamos attacked the wriggling Bokoblin again, and this time it stilled.
"Link!" someone was calling his name. Shit, he didn't see a light anywhere.
"Link!" it was yelling, urgent. The world washed to whiteness, extreme light blotting out Beamos and Bokoblin corpse and hero's body. Oh please, let this be a dream, let this be—
"Link! What are you doing here?"
A woman stood in front of him, silhouetted by a light behind her. He couldn't see her face. Damn, it was so bright.
"Link, what happened?"
"Mom?"
"Yes, honey, what happened?"
Link stuttered for an answer, and sure enough, it hit him full in the face. He really, truly, had died. Failed. Had left the world to its fate. There was no more Hero to send Demise back the next time the seal failed. Not anymore.
"Link?" He could see her face now, her eyes the same as his.
"Is Dad here too?" he asked, voice breaking.
"Link!" he was tackled by a ten-year old Zelda. "A crimson loftwing? Those only come to special people, you know!"
"Wait, what? Mom? Mom! Where did you go?" He called around, frantically, but the light had softened to the colors of Skyloft.
All of a sudden his dad was laughing below him, spinning his son around through the air. When had he gotten so small?
He saw Zelda standing with both her parents. His grandparents paraded him with birthday gifts and Pipit, acting all high and mighty, lectured him on what it meant to be a knight. Eagus rescued him as a toddler when he tumbled off the edge, tottering on newfound legs.
People were hugging him. "Link! Oh, Link, we weren't expecting you!"
"My son…"
"Still as confused as always, eh boy?" an elegant woman who shared Zelda's manner smiled at his bewildered expression, as plump from her good cooking as she had always been.
A large man in armor watched him from the side. A man who looked a lot like him, only more worn.
"Pipit, how's he been?" a man with his arms crossed asked, chin up as he watched the confused kid.
"What?" Link managed.
"My son, Pipit."
Link backwheeled in shock.
"No need to be so surprised, boy. It's only that since we're here and you've just come from there, we'd like a little news."
"Has old Pumm been minding business and my little Kina, now?"
"Tell that hubby of mine Peatrice can have any man she likes. Is he still trying to relive his glory days?"
"Oh my. Granma must fix you some soup now, mustn't she?"
"Mom, he's not here to stay." Link's mom took her own mother by the shoulder as she looked at her son.
"What?" Link was taken aback. All these people…
"Link," his mother consoled, "you've got big stuff ahead of you. Do you remember what we taught you?"
"Yes, always!"
She launched into the lesson anyway, "You don't need swords and battles to be a hero. What you need is courage in your heart—"
"—and a heart to serve others no matter the cost to yourself. I remember, Mom."
"Good. And what did we say about sleeping?"
"''Night is best, morning is fine, but the world needs you in it and you can't keep it waiting forever.'"
His father stepped forward.
"The world is waiting, Link."
Pain. Every fiber in Link's body ached. For the love of—midthought, he heard the sound of the Beamos charging its electric laser, a streak of voltage colliding with the wooden floor feet from him.
Link rolled to his feet, pulling his sword out from his back. He nearly avoided the blue thread that had just restarted his heart and swiftly sliced the Beamos.
The contraption hissed and sputtered as he swung again, lowering it once more. He thrust the blade deep into the blue pupil which had watched him die, and by some stroke of insanity, saved his life.
Link stumbled backwards, his heart pounding a million miles a minute. He couldn't do this. Crap. He couldn't, he couldn't—he stepped on a switch and a panel in the wall opened. Link jumped, startled out of reason by this tiny reaction. He fell against the wall and slid to the floor. He couldn't. Not ever. He had died. Dead. Met his mother, father…it had to be a dream. But did he really want to believe it wasn't real?
He didn't know. It was too much. Too much. His throat burned with thirst and his chainmail was still hot from the electricity that had both killed and revived him. His head was spinning, his feet and fingers were numb, the air was filled with the acrid scent of charred hair and fabric…
No. No way.
"You've got big stuff ahead of you."
Electricity crackled across the door out of the room. He'd have to hit the Timeshift stone on the mast if he wanted out that way. But there was no way he could ever aim for that. His hands shook like no tomorrow. Desperate, he tried.
He couldn't even pull back an arrow.
He couldn't breathe, he couldn't think. Link laid his head back against the wall. "Home, Fi," he whispered, "get me home."
In a delirious moment, he imagined her saying "You were just there."
"Master, I calculate a 95% chance that you will need to use your bow to get out of this room. I also calculate a 73% chance that you are currently unable to use your bow."
Link laughed weakly. "You got that right."
The next room had three more Beamos. And behind a barred door lay the boss key.
He couldn't.
"Do you remember what we taught you?"
Forcing his trembling muscles to obey Link plopped a reclined leg against the switch, opening the hatch through which he could shoot the next trigger to open the door. Barely managing to load his bow, he let an arrow weakly fly two feet in front of him.
"A heart willing to serve others, no matter the cost," he panted, his whole body shuddering.
"And who are you here for, Link?"
A broken chain in the Earth Temple, a meeting cut short by a Sheikah, a harp passed to him as she fled. Zelda.
With a deep breath and the last dregs of will, Link reloaded his bow and held his breath. He aimed through his shivering vision, stretched the string until he thought his arm would fall off, and let the arrow fly.
Switch hit, and bars slid off doors.
In the next room there stood not one, but three Beamos towers. He staggered forward. You got this. You run for the exit—
The exit was barred. It was fight or nothing.
Instinct taking control, Link felt his mind glaze over. He loaded his bow and took out one eye. But as he turned to the next, pain coursed through his body, and he felt his muscles lurch of their own accord until the Beamos released him, where he fell to his knees, unable to breathe.
Desperate, Link stumbled to his feet at a run. Sword out, he sliced the Beamos' tower once, twice. He stabbed out the eye and pulled his shield off his back and managed to catch the beam of the next Beamos without it hitting him.
Sparks cackled off of the divine material and Link's hair stood on end. When the force ceased he charged the last tower. One swing, two swings, all he had left. When had his sword gotten so heavy? He jabbed out the eye, feeling the zap travel from sparking eye to metal sword, to hand which tingled so much he had trouble convincing it to keep its grip. The tingle vanished and there was a whir as the machine cackled and exploded. Link staggered, barely able to walk.
He tipped toward the boss key chest, opened it, pocketed the obscure puzzle piece.
Delirious and exhausted, the Hero dragged himself into a corner, where he curled up around the boss key, delusional.
"How's my boy, Pipit?"
"Oh dear, Granma must make you some soup, musn't she?"
"Is that hubby of mine still trying to relive his glory days?"
"Link! We weren't expecting you!"
The exhausted Skyloftian's mind wheeled and whirled and tumbled across events past, present, and beyond. Hazy shapes drifted into his conscious as he drifted off to sleep, unable to hold on to reality any longer. Time drifted past him like the sands that had encompassed Lanayru. Suddenly, all cleared, and a single voice rang into his mind.
"The world is waiting, Link."
He opened his eyes to a ship swaying and creaking against the waves. The Hero got to his feet, pocketed the key. He had a goddamned boss to fight, a goddamned girl to save. The world needed him in it, and he couldn't keep it waiting.
A oneshot brought to you by the Franken-Fly! My friend told me this story at a bus stop. She was at her aunt's farm, where there are horses and so huge horse flies. She was out in the barn with her her aunt and an electric fly swatter, and she swatted a huge fly. It died. Curious, she hit it again with the electric swatter. It came back to life. And thus the Franken-Fly was born.
Anyway, if you like this oneshot, you should go check out it's brother, "Mrs. Fi Uppitypants", which you can find on my profile. That oneshot picks up after Link beats Tentalus and takes on more of a humor narrative as opposed to drama. Thanks and happy reading!
Ninja out.