Dearest reader,
Hopefully if you have opened this fic you are not expecting a pretty, fluffy tale filled with unicorns, dragons, ballgowns, or Wario. Although there will be a little of each, I assure you, just not the way you would expect. This is a strange tale, one which you might very well dislike. If you shudder at the sight of blood, I implore you to click the back button on whatever magic device you are using to view the contents of my parchment, and find a nicer tale to read instead. You know, a pretty bit of shounen-ai, or a fanfic about Navi's holiday schedule, or maybe even a mylittlepony horror movie. Whatever suits your tastes.
With utmost respect,
Fye Halfmoon
Once, a long time ago, there lived a princess in a castle. Like in every other fairytale, this princess was conveniently single, awaiting the arrival of her hero. She wondered what he would be like, and imagined him strong, tall, and dark in a beautiful way. This was of course only natural, seeing as she herself was strong-willed, tall, and overwhelmingly dark. She knew she could not settle for less, or the man could not tame her wild spirit. This princess was Zelda.
She kept a secret, a very well-hidden secret. Her past, a strangely uncomfortable thought for her. None knew that she lured birds to her window every day, teasing the unfortunate feathered creatures with promises of water, crumbs, and all other such things as birds delight in. But of course this must be a farce, for did wonderful things ever come to one for free?
For years she lived on in such a manner, growing into a woman, ready soon to wed. However, when a hero did come, she was surprised - perhaps disappointed too.
Now this is the time when a child would ask why. Why could he not be perfect for the princess? Why was he not strong, tall and dark? Well, he simply did not look it, and who could blame him? Fate makes the right decisions in the end. To be fair, he was attractive in his own way. His body perhaps did not look greatly musclebound, but slim; however it carried him well and he stood longer than one would expect from a child his age. He wasn't very tall, but he did still measure an inch above the princess. His hair was light, as was his skin. The hero's name was Link.
Perhaps indeed his exterior was light, however inwardly he carried a thirst, a dark thirst. For life, for death. For blood.
In this he suited the princess perfectly, who had also a taste for such things. Her secret, his secret. They were the same. Slowly, slowly, his instincts pulled him toward the castle where a bloodthirsty princess awaited. Impatiently, she walked the halls of the palace, among the infinite whispers she strode, not caring, not caring, for any of the strange looks passing her way.
Every night she stood upon her balcony, waiting and staring up at a bloodred moon. And then one night, she knew.
He was coming.