Hiya! Wow, it's been way too long for me! ^^ I-I missed this place so mu-uh-uh-uch! *Tearfully rubs face on fan fiction* I thought it'd get restarted with a simple ol' oneshot, and see if I can think of some long term story to write ^_^ So, thank you very much for stopping by, and I hope that you enjoy ^/^
She had always said that it was the edge of his sword that she saw her reflection in. That the deep, thoughtful blue eyes and chocolate hair could only be captured in something unseen; something delicate. The little silvery glint of an edge, the edge of his heart, perhaps, or barrier between life and the cliff of death itself. The most tender, fragile thing to exist and thrive in the human mind. However, through years of gentle words and serene thoughts, she had learned that, for him, it was the opposite.
The edge of a blade is most dangerous part, supposedly, because of it's inconsistency and inability to discern. It is easily controlled by the hand, and the hand is often uncontrollable. For her, it was flawed, and she crinkled her nose at it whenever he wasn't looking. However, for him it was sensible, powerful and yet tame. He saw himself in the mirror surface of the blade, past the stains of battle and peeking specks of rust. With the beastly eyes and sandy hair, scars dancing on leathery tan skin staring back at him with a firm jaw sculpted from the trails of life.
He saw the hardened, tangible side. The smooth yet somehow tangy surface of old metal, bouncing sunlight around the room when he walked. The untouchable side that never caused harm, and never did wrong. He relished in the heroic and graceful side, only catching hints that even his princess could lose sight of this grace. Innocently blinded by the reflections staring back at him.
Many years passed in this form, in a blurry and hazy state that his mind somehow managed to smooth into time. He took her hand and kissed the pale shadow of wisdom everyday, and saw her delicate features almost glowing in the dim light. He watched her watery eyes dance when near fire, her thoughts stirring and crossing behind bright irises. He drank up the sound of her sighs after the moon rose, and treasured the silky feeling of her hair between his rough, calloused fingers. He did so everyday. Every hour. Yet he never saw himself. And they hardly ever saw each other.
However, they soon discovered that "Over summer feelings grow, then fall comes to dwindle them away, and winter gentle chills the heart, all for spring to save the day." A year passed just s any other, yet it hinted at something more that Princess Zelda and her hero. Something more than him and her. Perhaps it was the unseen edge of a blade finally becoming clear, or the bluntness of the world peeking through the cloudy curtains that separate the human world and the imagination.
It came slowly, but steadily. Pale lips would pull away from a kiss, and tired eyes would blink away a caress. Fire slowed down a heartbeat and reflections slowly blurred. Joy itself seemed to be playing on the edge of a cliff, and each moment was a miracle that it didn't topple over. However, innocence is a non-permanent quality, and eventually the mind exchanges knowledge for hope, and reflections become images.
It was cold, he remembered, that night when he first realized this. The moon and been but a sliver, and the stars were hiding behind spotty clouds. The sound of a cricket had somehow made it through the high windows in the castle bedrooms and the cool air was breathing gentle around them. Her skin had been pale, almost white, her eyes dusty and tired. There had been sweat clumped in her unkempt hair, and her breath was shallow and slow. There was no fire in a the hearth, and the stillness had made him think that the world itself had stopped to try and save her. Her hand had reached up for his, in one last innocent action, and the ghostly fingers wrapped themselves around his warm, tight grip, like a fresh breath flowing around sandy dunes.
In the final moments, a small smile had graced her sunken cheeks. Her eyes unblinkingly rested on his features, and her soft, delicate skin glowed in the serenity of the moon. Gentleness replaced pain, and she took away her grip to run her fingers over the pink, raised scars on his hardened features. Her touch, her sweet and tender touch caught the strings of his heart, and he felt his hand cover hers. And they both smiled, the unbreakable barrier allowing them one small glance at something more. The ghostly, serene image of her innocence and connection to imagination shining, as though her mind was already being carefully carried away to the dreams and wishes that they all treasured, all clashing with his hardened features. His simple ideas of life and reality, both meeting in that moonlit room, however briefly. And in her pale, glowing face, he saw himself for the first time. An image, no longer a reflection.
And he choose that moment to look back on for comfort, to rest on for joy, and when his heart was weary he would close his eyes and find himself staring at the edge of a sword, the intangible and dodgy thing that bordered the edge of whatever conflicted in life. And in these odd moments, he would feel a cool and delicate hand cup his cheek, if only on the breath of the wind.
I always feel like I get carried away with endings ^_^" Oh well… I really hope I've improved, and I'd love to here your tips, so review please, if you'd like ^_^ Don't wanna force you guys to XD;;; I love criticism, so feel free to say whatever you'd like ^^ I swear I won't get angry with you XD