Link gently tugged on the reins of his horse to slow her
down as he rode up the slope to Lon Lon Ranch.
Epona neighed angrily and tossed her head as she slowed to a gentle
trot. Link stroked her head lovingly
then dismounted in front of the barn and tiptoed behind his wife. She was sitting on a box that once carried
milk bottles, washing clothes. "Malon?"
he whispered, placing a big hand on her shoulder. She gasped and swung around, nearly overturning her washbasin.
"Link!" she cried, breathless. She flung her arms around his neck and tightly embraced him. Link was shocked by her reaction. She was, by this time, shaking violently.
He carefully pushed her away from him and sat her down onto
the milk crate. "I told you I'd come
back if you needed me."
Malon nodded, biting her lip. Her face bore an expression of uncertainty. "I knew you would. Well, I hoped you would…" she broke off when she noticed the hurt
look on her husband's face.
Nevertheless, through his pain, Link waited for her to continue. When she didn't he quietly said, "You mean
more to me than my work. I thought you
knew that."
Malon's tone turned bitter suddenly, "You always say that,
and I believed it until you left when I'm…" Once again, Malon trailed off as
her hand went to her stomach.
Link sighed, "I know, I'm sorry. They thought the princess was in danger."
"And was she?" Malon spat fiercely.
Link couldn't help feeling ashamed. He had left his 7-month pregnant wife to
protect another woman. It was his duty,
though. "I'm sorry," he repeated duly.
What else could he say?
Malon stared at him for a few seconds and sighed. When she spoke again, the intensity of her
voice had subsided. "It's your job. I
understand," she said looking up and smiling weakly, "Now, let's go to the
house and eat lunch." Malon stood and motioned for him to follow her. He gently took her hand in his and led her
into their house.
It was a warm, large room with a fireplace on the left
wall. In front of that, sat a little
table with four chairs around it. To
the right of the door, was a staircase leading to Malon and Link's
bedroom. Under the stairs was another
stairway, which led to the basement and the farm hand's living quarters. It was a comfortable house, just big enough
for four people.
Malon motioned for her husband to sit down as she kneeled
next to a pot hanging over the fire. "How are you feeling?" Link asked as he
sat down.
"OK," Malon replied without looking up. "Angia has been
helping enormously by taking care of the animals. Trent has also made things easier by taking things to market for
me. I'm afraid I'm beginning to get a
bit lazy since I never have to leave the ranch," Malon joked as she stirred the
contents of the pot. Link knew that
arrangement wouldn't last long. Malon
was a very self-sufficient young woman, and she would always resist assistance
when it was offered.
She moaned slightly, and her hand flew to her back. Link jumped up, and in a flash, he was
kneeling at her side, "Are you alright?" he asked apprehensively.
"I-It's nothing," she stuttered. Link brushed a lock of hair out of her eyes and kissed her
forehead gently.
"You should rest. I
can take care of lunch." Malon shook her head at the suggestion. Link was on the verge of protest but thought
better of it, and he conceded to his wife without a fight.
He returned to his seat at the table and quietly
contemplated his situation. Two months,
he had been away from his wife. For two
whole months, he had left her. At least
she wasn't alone, but still…
Link turned his head, wanting to search Malon's face for
any contempt she might have had towards him, but her back was to him. He was an expert at reading people, but
Malon was difficult. She seemed so
serious at times, and so light-hearted at others. She also seemed to, in a way, revere him. This was flattering, of course, but Link
felt that her awe was unfounded.
Link's solemn thoughts were interrupted by a low, rumbling
noise. He glanced sheepishly at his
stomach. Malon walked over and ladled
some soup into his bowl. "Sounds like
I'm just in time," she giggled.
"Yeah, I guess so," Link's cheerful tone concealed his true
thoughts. He was concerned.
* * *
Princess Zelda stared blankly at her reflection in the
mirror. Her head was filled with
pensive thoughts. Her mouth was set in
a resolved line. If only she could
muster up enough courage to go through with it!
She closed her eyes and remembered. Thoughts of her dream swam through her head. Her mind stopped and focused on the image of
the hellish beast that had started it all.
The image was seared into her memory forever.
Zelda opened her eyes and shuddered. What was that demon she had seen in her
dream? What did it want with her? She couldn't possible know until…dare she
even think it? It was a haunting
thought, but it had already entered her mind.
She'd never be at peace until she met this frightful monster and
discovered his motives.
A sharp rapping at the door made the princess jump. She scolded herself for being so
nervous. What would Link think?
"Enter," Zelda called, hoping she could hide the quivering
of her voice. Evidently, her efforts
were successful. As her old servant
hobbled in, carrying a warm bottle of milk, she said nothing different to the
princess.
"Good evening," Zelda quipped. She was anxious for some company after withdrawing from such
sober and disturbing thoughts.
"Hullo, your majesty," the old woman said with spirit. Despite her age, she had always displayed an
extremely vigorous personality. Lhasa
was her name, but Zelda knew her as "Mama Lhasa". Zelda had lost her real mother at a very young age. She only remembered her mother's smile and
the way it lit up the room.
Zelda smiled at the thought of her mother, and her hand
automatically went to the locket she always wore around her neck. It was her mother's special picture, and
only Zelda and the deceased queen herself had ever seen it.
The princess took it out in her mind to prevent Mama Lhasa
from seeing it. It was a tiny photo of
a young, golden-haired woman with a small, smiling child on her lap. Zelda sighed, and her hand closed around the
locket. Her mother had said it was very
important that no one should ever touch that locket. Zelda didn't understand these orders, but she followed them
anyway. Their special picture…
"Princess?" Zelda's hand released the article, and she
regretfully withdrew herself from her pseudo-euphoric thoughts. Lhasa's eyes met her own with an
understanding gaze. "Are you thinking
of Her?" she inquired.
Zelda nodded, and smiled. "She must have been really
wonderful," she sighed wistfully.
"Oh, yes she was indeed.
She loved you a great deal, too," Lhasa said, perching on Zelda's bed
daintily. "She really loved singing to you.
You always like it, no matter what it was. You were a very special girl.
You still are."
Zelda nodded with a smile, but inwardly wondered how
conversations of her mother always seemed to go off on a tangent.
"I'm sure you understand, I must be going," Lhasa ventured
setting down her burden on Zelda's vanity.
The princess returned her gaze to the mirror and sent Mama Lhasa off
with a wave of her hand.
Talk of her mother had lifted Zelda's spirits and any
asinine attempts at immersing herself in serious thought would have been in
vain. The gloomy cloud that had been
oppressing her spirits had lifted.
Zelda looked at the bottle of milk next to her with distaste. I believe I'll forego the milk tonight,
thank you, she thought.
The princess quickly got ready for bed, realizing she was
quite tired. She soon flopped (very
un-royally) onto her large, comfortable bed and snuggled into the welcoming
sheets, which promised warmth and protection.
These simple actions, Zelda would later regret.
* * *
It was nearly eleven o'clock when Link finished unpacking
his belongings. His wife had long since
fallen asleep, despite her best efforts at staying awake to help him. She deserves the rest, he thought as he
tucked the blanket around her and kissed her cheek. For a few moments, Link stood there, simply absorbing the
distinctive feeling of being at home and safe.
But was he? Was the
princess? Was anyone safe? Link's thoughts returned to the princess and
her dream. Just thinking of the
retelling made Link yearn for the blanket that incased his wife. The incredible uncertainty that surrounded
the whole situation left him decidedly uneasy.
He had never found himself wishing for such a thing as monotony before,
but now his safety and that of his family was compromised. The princess's dreams were always something
of an event, so when Link received word that the Princess had woken up in the
middle of the night, screaming, he had left at once.
The sleeping bundle on the chair stirred. "Malon?" he whispered, going over to
her. He got no reply, and he saw her
eyes were tightly closed. "I wonder
what you're dreaming," he sighed, "I'm so sorry. I didn't want to leave you, and I won't do
it again." Link kissed her soft cheek once again, "I love you," he murmured
into her ear. He then proceeded to blow
out the candle and walk upstairs to his room.
Once certain that Link was gone, Malone ceased her feigned
slumber and sat up. Caressing the spot
on her face where her love had kissed her, she let out a low whimper. Burying her face in her hands, she began to
sob, with no one to comfort her except for the twinkling stars shining in the
sky outside the window.
