Disclaimer: The Legend of Zelda is the property of Nintendo and Shigeru Miyamoto. This is merely a fan fiction and I am making no money from this.

Notes: This is a post-Twilight Princess story. Though I've been playing Ocarina of Time lately, I decided that this plot was best done in the TP universe, as OoT Link, has, essentially, the soul of a boy in a man's body, and placing him in an adult relationship just felt weird for me in a way that it doesn't for my perception of TP Link. Also, I really liked some of TP's side characters. This story begins as Link x Zelda, but I have no particular shipping preference. I principally consider myself a "gen fan," so I am not planting any flags in any one "camp." I hate shipwars, am neutral, and merely obeyed the plot that came to my mind. Please take it as a stand-alone.

This was inspired by some fan fiction I've read and ideas floating out there (not just in this fandom, either). I wanted to do something a little different with the love and tragedy theme. I hope this is enjoyed. Though I am typing and posting this tale chapter-by-chapter, I have the entire story hand-written and I know where I am going with it.

"IN YOUR SHADOW"

A LoZ fan fiction by Shadsie

Chapter 1: The Borderlands

Golden Hands embraced him and he did not hurt anymore. The weight on his chest, the searing pain in his side and the pounding in his head were gone now. The lady looked down on him with kind eyes and a gentle smile. Her skin was golden and radiant, like a newly-minted coin. A green glow surrounded her, evocative of light-dappled leaves in a forest.

"Welcome home, my noble child," she said, her voice like the morning calls of every songbird in the world. Of course, she would be the Goddess to greet him. Link knew that this was Farore. He also knew that this meant that he was dead. He did not fight her embrace or her leading. He'd see the other Goddesses soon enough, Queen Rutela, poor old Auru, others he'd met and lost along his journey, and the parents he'd never known. He was leaving behind friends – in a dangerous situation, no less. He was leaving behind his Queen and his son.. He was leaving behind his kingdom…

Funny… it didn't seem to worry him at all. How unlike himself this was.

Dying has a way of changing one's perspective.

Rusl rode hard through the wind while dirt, grit and grains of sand tink-tinkered off his helmet and armor. He'd hoped the enemy would retreat before the oncoming storm, but bulbins weren't as cowardly as most people thought they were. Apparently, Link had been right. They'd have to fight this band in the gale and the rain.

Colin rode at his father's side. A strong lad of fifteen, he'd insisted on coming. Rusl would rather he'd stayed home, but with his age and brave spirit, Rusl knew he would have come anyway, even if he had to sneak out from under his mother's nose and ride up behind. Rusl spared a thought for how timid his son used to be as a youngster. Now, he was a young lion.

Hyrule was mostly at peace these days and had enjoyed it for nearly six years and counting. Since the last great threat to be destroyed had been Ganondorf himself, the people expected at least a century of peace. There were, however, small threats that had to be taken care of now and again – this time, an organized gang of rouge bulbins that had been waylaying travelers in Hyrule's northern borderlands. Most said they were only after treasure, but some rumors claimed that they sought to resurrect Ganondorf. While King Bulbin fought for Hyrule now, there'd been a split in his ranks. This faction had gotten out of his control.

In any case, many people had been robbed and hurt, and some even killed. The Resistance took it upon themselves to take care of the problem. They had always been a small group, but they'd added more to their numbers recently, including Colin. Riding ahead of them, always ahead and never behind, was the king of Hyrule himself. No one called him "your majesty," or "your highness," because he would not stand for it, and it embarrassed him so. He was now and always, simply Link.

He'd said he'd never felt like royalty. He'd said he'd never felt like a hero, either, but he was both. It had been some months after the dispelling of the Twilight and the defeat of the King of Evil that Princess – now Queen Zelda took Link to be her groom. No one thought ill of the choice because he was of the common class. He was the Hero, and it seemed perfectly natural. She bore him a son, whom they'd named "Midnight," in honor of a mutual friend, who had returned to her own country.

The Resistance had been traveling for days and it was quite clear to everyone that Link was eager to get home. When they'd encountered enemies, he'd fought with a ferocity that seemed uncommon even for him. He was just sick of these petty skirmishes, these little irritations that took them all away from home and family – as were they all.

The wind picked up and the arrows came. Rusl was quick to raise his shield. How did they keep those things lit in this weather? Heat swept past the top of his head and he smelled the strong scent of oil amid smoke. He caught a glimpse of Colin out of the corner of his eye, aiming his small bow. The air was filled with the noise of panicked horses, whinnies and the thump and tear of hooves in moist earth. Grit pinged and clanged off his armor and arrows off his shield. He heard Link shouting orders in his strong and seldom-used voice. Rusl couldn't make out what he was saying over the other noises and the wind. He looked about, desperate to find a clean shot, or to even discern the direction the enemy arrows were coming from.

He saw Shad, dismounted, thrusting and slicing at something with a short sword. Shad was not good at this sort of work, he was a scholar, not a fighter, but bless him, he tried. Rusl jumped out of the saddle, letting his steed run. He got to his friend just in time to see him dispatch his wicked assailant.

"They're using Death Mountain lava-tar," Shad said between coughs, "They could burn the bottom of Lake Hylia if they'd wanted to."

"Got an estimate on their number?"

"About twenty, I think. They're firing from up on those rocks. Ashei, Kip and Xin have got the west. Sara, Zyll and Marl have got the south, we're here, and Link's out ahead."

Rusl contemplated the rock formations on either side of them. "That's why their trail was so straight," he growled. "They've lead us into an ambush."

Just then, Rusl heard a scream. Through the windblown grit he saw Link fall from his horse. Colin aimed his bow and fired out ahead, his face twisted in a cold and fierce expression. A bulbin fell from the northern rocks. At once, Rusl and Shad ran toward where their king had fallen. They were surprise to find him on his feet, firing his bow rapidly, with an arrow sticking out of his right side. Its fire had been snuffed in the dark blood that was now running down Link's tunic and pants. Rusl reached out, ready to grab the young man and pull him back when a volley of flaming arrows rained down.

Shouting, heat, an explosion, random noise – these were the things that Rusl heard. He also heard the terrible, yet delightful death-cries of bulbins. The wind was subsiding.

It took several moments for Rusl to register that the arrows had stopped coming. Several littered the ground, impaled into the earth and still burning. His comrades staggered out from behind the rocks, weary, bruised, but otherwise none the worse for wear.

Link!

He was hurt, and badly. Rusl scrambled over stones. What he first caught sight of was Epona, nuzzling something on the ground.

"Link!" Rusl called. He could hear the breath and footsteps of Colin and Shad behind him. Epona was nuzzling the young king's hair, as if begging him to get up. "My boy…" Rusl said in a half-choked whisper. Link's eyes were half-lidded and his expression was utterly blank. Rusl desperately checked for breath, and for a pulse, knowing that it was hopeless. Link's body had second arrow in it, in the chest – and by Rusl's trained eye, it was right in his heart. It was a precise shot.

He stood and bowed his head before the gathered members of the Resistance. He sighed deeply and tried not to show his tears. "Ladies and gentlemen," he said, "our Hero is dead."

"Queen Zelda, the Resistance has returned from the borderlands."

"Thank you, Martin," the queen said, nodding to her messenger. Her son was seated on the floor. Perhaps it wasn't fit for a throne room to have a four-year old child playing with his toys in the middle of it, but Zelda never was conventional royalty. The young prince knew to clean up his play sets when important company was visiting. Midnight gathered up the little model wagon and the little wooden goats his father had carved for him and placed them in the clever little toy box hidden beneath the cushion of his tiny throne.

"Does this mean Daddy's home?" Midnight asked.

"Yes it does, sweetheart," Zelda said, a gentle smile on her lips.

She stood to greet the single figure that respectfully entered the throne room. Zelda inwardly groaned. Shad. He was so long-winded. Why was it customary to send in one member to give her a status report before she was allowed to see everyone? This, unfortunately, was a custom even she could not change.

Wait, something was different about Shad. He didn't carry himself in his usual way. His eyes looked tired. Had he been weeping? He read off a brief account of the group's journey, detailing enemy movement on the northern border and the various small skirmishes they'd fought.

"And the desert-edge stronghold was wiped out, my queen. Also, regrettably, there was one casualty."

Shad knelt before Zelda. Zelda felt sorrow whenever any of her fighting men or women fell. So many had sacrificed so much for the kingdom, and it weighed heavily on her heart. She'd memorized the faces of everyone in her personal guard and the castle army, as well as everyone in Link's band of friends. She dreaded what was to come next – Shad giving her the name. She wondered whose face she would never see again.

She was surprised when Shad did not give her a name. She sighed. "Bear him home to his family," she stated.

"We are doing so," Shad said slowly.

Several people entered the throne room, bearing a large litter. Upon it hung green flags bearing the royal Triforce crest in gold. Resting on it was a figure wrapped head-to-toe in a black cloak. Upon the figure rested an un-sheathed sword, a common, but sufficient blade. A tremor rose in Queen Zelda's heart. She knew that sword. It couldn't be, could it? Was this some kind of cruel trick? The pallbearers set the litter down. At once, everyone bowed to Zelda and Midnight, hands clasped over their hearts.

"We are… deeply sorry my queen… my prince: Rusl said. "He fought bravely, as always."

Zelda approached the litter, slowly and cautiously. She could hear her son's footsteps behind her. "Someone went to the Sacred Realm again, Mommy?" Midnight asked.

Zelda pulled back the part of the shroud covering the deceased's face. She shook with disbelief, sorrow and maybe even a touch of rage. His eyes were closed tightly, as if in sleep, and he looked peaceful, perhaps even perversely so. He was pale, so pale – she had never seen his skin that pale. She cautiously touched his cheek. It felt like ice.

"L-Link?" she whispered.

"Daddy's just sick, right?" Midnight asked, tugging on his mother's dress. "He just needs rest and potion and he'll get better."

Zelda broke down in sobs. The desperate scream that came a few moments later could be heard throughout Castle Town.

-- To Be Continued. Turn to the Next!!