I just couldn't stay away.
Alas, it is I. Back to my Zelda/Link roots though this time we're on the Skyward Sword side of things. So, for this story I decided that I'm going to have shorter, but far more updates. It won't be like Memento where there was only 14 chapters that were all immensely long. I guess that is really all. And I missed writing from Link's perspective, so I'm going back. Also, interesting fact I just realized, all of my stories, here, and my original novel I wrote, all start with someone waking up. Guess it's like my trademark.
Last thing, I totally lied up there when I said "that is really all" I guess... but I got the name of the story from the Coldplay song, Us Against The World. Kind of embodies the relationship here in my professional opinion.
I love all you guys so much, and I love writing for you. I don't think fanfiction will ever be rid of me.
Half of my heart's got a real good imagination
Half of my heart's got you
Half of my heart's got a right mind to tell you
That half of my heart won't do
My eyes shoot open, my chest heaving with labored breaths. I glance at the open sky above me, a million points of light piercing through the black. I sit, waiting until the world stops swirling around me. I narrow my eyes, finding something sharp in my hand, a smooth surface. I lift it's face to the moonlight, the beams reflecting off a jagged green piece of glass. I hold it back down closer to my eyes, not knowing where it came from, or why I have it. I stand on trembling legs, tucking the piece of glass into my pocket, my joints popping when I reach my arms over my head. There is always a moment of shock when I awake with the sky over me rather than a roof, my muscles seizing as a tingling ache washes over my body. I don't have the slightest idea where I might be, but there is no panic eating at me.
There is no panic because this isn't the first time. Nor is it the second, or the third.
I turn to my left and find that I haven't veered very far off the dirt road through the forest. I'm grateful that the sleepwalking only developed following our move down here. Sleepwalking in Skyloft would have been a death sentence.
I step through the thick underbrush back onto the road, squinting up ahead and finding the silhouettes of houses. I wince then, my elbow succumbing to an overwhelming sting. I twist my arm around and let my eyes fall to the glistening stain on my skin. I must have tripped and skinned my elbow while I was asleep.
I close a hand over the wound, stumbling down the silent path towards the outline of the house I know almost better than my own. I slide the window on the east side open and hoist myself through it, landing on the wooden floor with a soft thud. She's asleep, just like I assumed she would be, her face just Zelda's right now.
She stares off sometimes in the day, and I'm sure she's remembering something of a life long past, but when she sleeps she's just the girl I've known since I was a child. I tiptoe across the floor to her and kneel by her bedside, leaning my chin on her mattress. I reach up and gingerly caress my knuckles to her forehead, her fever breaking finally. She breathes out then, almost in relief, and her pink lips remain parted, her warm breath making the hair across her forehead flutter.
How I want to touch those lips.
Her cheeks are flushed, her skin sticky with sweat. I pull her covers up close to her chin, not wanting her to get sick again— she's just started to get over it. I know that she'll be alright, it's just the flu like so many of us had when we were young, but I can't help but worry about her now.
She stirs as the blankets shift over her, and I hold my breath as her glistening eyes lazily open, her brow furrowing when they focus on my face, her pupils dilated.
I break the silence first. "How are you feeling?" I ask her in a hushed voice.
She nods, clearing her throat. "What are you doing here?"
I scratch the back of my head, "I was sleepwalking."
"Did you hurt yourself?" she asks, reaching out with a quivering hand to brush a piece of my hair out of my eyes.
I bite my cheek, she can see right through me. "It's not as bad as the first time," I tell her, lifting my elbow to show her the evidence of tonight.
She props herself up, swinging her legs over the edge of her bed to turn the dial on her oil lamp until a golden flame sweeps away the shadows like cobwebs, the features of her face that had been cloaked in blue taking on their natural tones. She rummages in a drawer for a moment or two and pulls out a bandage. She takes my arm in her lap and wraps in around the scrape on my elbow, securing it with a pin.
She tucks her feet back away beneath her blankets, and shifts over before laying back down. She leaves the blankets by her waist, waiting.
I lift myself cautiously up onto the bed beside her, inching myself underneath the blankets as I lay down. I breathe out in relief, my elbow clawing at my attention with a dull throb, though it immediately is pushed out of the way as Zelda nestles her head beneath my chin. "I'll keep you close," she murmurs, "so you won't hurt yourself again."
I swallow, something she probably notices with her forehead resting against my throat. She takes so much blame for what I did, what happened to she and I. Some of that guilt still resides within her when phantom pains haunt me, or dreams rip me from sleep. For tonight I hope she can sleep well, that she can dream of home and of a time that was quiet. My first night I slept upon the surface, I couldn't find dreams because it had all seemed so loud. Birds calling, bugs chirping, frogs croaking, the wind in the trees and the grass and the water. This was a couple of months after... when our houses were finished being built and we could live here safely and comfortably. She had come to me that night, crept through my window and curled her shaking body into mine. She had spent many nights here on the surface, but always with the constant companionship of her mentor. It was an unspoken agreement, that when the night wouldn't grant us our sleep, that we could find it within each other.
I'd always found it easier to sleep when she was near. Something about the way her breathing hushed the startling sounds, how her heartbeat seemed to drown them out.
She turns knots in my stomach, makes every vein in my body feel as though it carries liquid fire. My every thought is consumed by her presence ever since she fell that day when we flew above the clouds. I cannot fathom what I possibly would have done had I been too late, had she been taken, used for her power.
She is such a fragile thing, I muse as I touch her hair, the strands like corn silk, and yet she has more power within her than I can begin to imagine.
She grew angry with me one evening when I brought it up, she began to cry and push me away from her every time I tried to get close. "I am just like you," she had told me, her voice raw, her eyes filled with betrayal.
We don't talk about it anymore, there is no need.
But I still think about it, and I know that she does too. She distanced herself from many of her friends back home, from her own father. There was a minute part of her, the part inside her mind that liked to laugh and play that drew away from me. But there was another part, the quiet, still part of her that clung to me for dear life. The part that always wanted to be held, for someone to be holding her to remind her that she's safe. That was the part of her that didn't seem to trust any others.
She's tired, just roused herself from sleep long enough to wrap my elbow. Her breathing is still deep, her chest expanding and contracting against mine. She flinches once, startling me though she's still lost amongst dreams as I hold my breath, waiting for her to wake. She's safe now, safe until morning. I pry myself away from her, our skin sticking together from her damp forehead and hair. I burrow my fingers into the soft golden waves and push them back off her temples, wanting beyond all else to lean down and press my lips to her face.
My heart pounds behind my ribs, an ache burning inside my stomach as I gaze down upon her. There is no one else in this home, I could easily lay back down and no one but she and I would ever know.
But that twisting in my stomach makes me leave the room, cut myself off from her. I sit down in a rocking chair in the kitchen, taking a deep breath through my nose as I bury my face in my hands. I kissed her once when we were young, only six years old, on the other side of the lake where no one would see us. We counted to three and then pressed our lips together, giggling about it after. We thought we'd be in trouble if her father found out, so it remained a secret between us. Even now it hasn't managed to leave either of our lips.
I am very close to sleep, my head propped against my fist, when I hear footsteps on the floor. I jump, waking myself as my chin snaps up, seeking out the person the footsteps belong to.
Her eyes gaze down at me, doleful and searching my face. "Why did you leave?" she asks me.
I fidget in the chair, straightening myself up a bit. "I'm sorry," is all I can think to say.
"It's so hot," she murmurs. It's true, in the mid-summer the air is dense and still holds the heat of day in the dead of night. "I keep waking up."
I stand up then, taking a step towards her to meet her. I gently press the back of my hand to her cheek, then to her forehead. "You feel much cooler though," I tell her.
"When I was sick I felt like I was freezing," she says.
I nod, remembering sitting by her bedside as she trembled, goosebumps rising on her skin while I tried to cool the fever with a wet cloth. "Let's go outside," I tell her, a small grin teasing the corners of my lips.
She smiles too, the first time I've seen the real flicker of light in her eyes since she fell ill, and follows me out her front door. "Come on," I murmur to her after she shuts the door behind us, reaching out my hand to her.
She slips her warm fingers into mine, lifting up the skirt of her nightgown in her other hand, so she can run. "Where are we going?" she asks, the whisper of excitement fluttering in her words.
"You'll see," I say with a smirk, half-jogging as I lead her down the path.
"Link!" she whispers, interrupted by a laugh as we swerve off the path and stumble down a hill, the cool air hitting us like a surge of adrenaline.
I smile, but only for the stars watching us. I love the sound of my name when she says it.
"It's just a bit farther," I say back to her as we pass under a stone arch, the smells of the forest evolving to something lighter, like when Skyloft would pass through a storm cloud and droplets of water hung in the air like crystals. The sounds of the creatures of the night fade away, the distant sound of a waterfall swallowing them.
When we burst through the treeline she sees it, the calm lake, the starlight bouncing off it's glassy surface. She lets my hand slip through her grasp as she continues running towards the sandy banks, and into the black water, glistening beads kicking up behind her. She holds her arms outstretched like wings, like she could take to the sky should the wind choose to take her with it, her face up to the glimmering stars. "It's cold," she murmurs, her ethereal blue silhouette outlined in silver.
I stop a few steps behind her so that the water only reaches my ankles. Half of my mouth lifts into a smile, but there is a pain in my heart, a pain that doesn't allow it to become full. A pain born from a need for her.
She drops her arms gracefully to her side, twisting her torso towards me as she extends a palm, "Are you coming?" she asks.
I let my gaze rest on her palm before I cover it with my own, allowing her to pull me towards her before she winds her arms around my waist, mine wrapping protectively around her shoulders as I lean my temple into the top of her head. I don't mind that the tide laps at my shins, dampening my pants just as the hem of her dress drifts lazily in the calm surf.
"Link," she whispers.
"Yeah?" I ask quietly.
"Thank you... for staying down here with me."
I squeeze her tighter, in the depths of night and with the lake surrounding us it looks as though we're drifting through the stardust in the open sky. I can feel her pulse drumming beneath her skin, her heartbeat against my ribs. Just like me.
My jaw is set tight as my eyes close, a muscle by my cheekbone twitching as if in pain. I can feel each of her fingers against the muscles of my back, keeping me pressed tight against her. I can feel the tension within her, that part of her that doesn't trust others is screaming.
It's asking if she's safe.
It's asking if I'll keep her there.
I reach up and cup the back of her neck in my hand, warm skin against warm skin. She sighs, the part of me that fears everything, that fears life, fears death, the part of me that I've only ever shown her, telling her yes.
Thank you for reading. I would love it if you would subscribe or review... or both! You'd be such a champ in my books.
-Leave No Doubt
