Hey everybody! So I got five reviews so here's the next chapter! Thank you to the people that reviewed, I think we can do it again, yeah? Five reviews? You guys are really awesome so I think we can. Oh. And if you want to review, please don't review saying "Update." Nobody likes that guy. Fellow writers, am I right?

So I forgot about something on the last chapter that is kind of exciting (for me at least). So in all of my boredom, I made a playlist/album for this story, yes truth. I plan, in a perfect world, to write a chapter for every song, which means I forgot the first chapter. Silly me. In case you're interested, the song for the first chapter is: Restless Dream by Jack's Mannequin. The song for this chapter as you can see is... This Is The Thing by Fink.

If you're interested in seeing the cover art I made, go over to my blog I basically made just so I could show you, go to: leavenodoubt1432 dot tumblr dot com


The floor is cold when I leave the bathroom, steam curling around me as I exit. My wet hair falls to the middle of my back, dampening the light cotton dress I wear. I dread the winter days where this attire will be too cool for the chilly nights, when the summer warmth is drained from our home.

I take the brush from the vanity and sit down in front of him on our bed, brushing the knots and tangles from the day outside from my hair. He smiles at me as I make myself comfortable, my forehead scrunching as the brush catches on a tangle. "Such pretty hair," he murmurs to me.

"My mother had the same hair, the same color," I say quietly, giving up and running my fingers through my hair as a makeshift comb.

"You don't talk about her very often," Link says, "does it make you sad?"

I purse my lips. "I hardly knew her," I say.

"I didn't even know my parents... but it makes me sad to think about them," Link admits.

I glance down, narrowing my eyes as I try to recall thinking about her. "I guess I told myself it was silly to be sad about her... because I always had my dad..."

"It's not silly. It's okay to be sad," Link tells me.

I keep my eyes down, tears welling in them for a reason I can't decipher. Maybe it's years worth of sadness I've kept inside, maybe it's because tomorrow he'll be gone, maybe it's because I'm embarrassed that he had to tell me that. "Is it?... Okay to be sad, that is."

"Of course. If we were never sad, then we would never know what being happy is. If I didn't lose my parents maybe I wouldn't have found you. And I'm happy that I did, but it doesn't mean I don't miss having them..." he says softly, reaching out to encircle my wrist in his hand.

I let him pull me towards him, crawling to sit in between his legs, mine draping over one of his. "I don't have to be sad anymore," I say, looking up at him with a smile even though there are still tears in my eyes.

"Me neither," he says, cupping my jaw in his hand and delicately pressing his lips to mine.

He weaves his fingers into my hair and holds my face close to his chest as I hold onto his wrist, securing his hand there. I lay my ear over his heart, listening to its constant thrum, taking comfort in it, trying to memorize the sound for when he's not here to remind me.

"Your hair smells so good," he whispers, a smile in his voice as he rubs my back unconsciously. That's one of the things that I love him for, he knows that he can comfort me with the easy pressure of his hand on my back. Now he doesn't even have to think about it before his hand starts making soothing circles between my shoulder blades.

"It's called soap, you should use it sometime," I joke, trying to bring some light into the room despite the quickly descending evening.

"Soap, huh?" he mutters, finally letting go of my face and resting his hand on my knee.

"Yeah, it's a new sanitation product," I tell him, grinning as he plays along.

He takes my hand and twines his fingers through mine. He presses my knuckles to his lips. "Malon, you're freezing," he murmurs.

"I'm always cold," I say gently, my voice faltering slightly as I watch him look at me with concern.

"Come here then," he says, pulling down the covers for me to slide in beside him. He takes both of my hands in his and presses them to his lips, blowing warm air on my chilled fingers. "Now, how's that?"

I nod, nestling in closer to him and resting my wet hair against his shoulder, he wraps his arms around me, holding my trembling body close to his warm one.

"I'm probably going to leave early tomorrow," he whispers, "before the sun comes up."

I'm glad I can hide the disappointment on my face in his shirt, and I try to keep my voice even when I say, "Alright."

"And I'll be back as soon as possible," he says.

"Okay," I mutter.

"And Red?" he asks, using his nickname for me.

I look up to him as he swallows, the sound audible to my ears.

"Don't forget about me."

I gently grasp his shirt in my hand. "I won't," I manage to say.

He inclines his face towards me, laying his upper body on top of me as he kisses me slowly. He reaches over to the bedside table and turns the switch on the lamp, the flame regressing to a faint blue light, and then disappearing all together.


"You're shivering."

"It's cold," I say, rubbing my arms to try and create friction to warm myself up.

He pulls me into his arms, resting his chin on my head, "Soon the world will be warm again."

"When you come back... will the butterflies come back, too?" I ask, keeping my arms close to my chest rather than wrapping them around him.

"And the birds," he says softly.

I nod, remembering when I used to watch the gulls circling overhead, chase the butterflies out in the field.

"Don't forget about me," he whispers, and then breathes in sharply like he's going to add to his statement but thinks better of it. A brief pang of fear wracks my heart as I imagine him saying: 'Don't forget about me, in case I don't come back.'

"How could I?" I ask, closing my eyes and leaning against him as a tear rolls down my cheek. "I love you, Link."

"Don't do that," he whispers, taking my face in his hands and making me face him, "don't say it like you're saying goodbye."

"But I'm scared," I manage to whisper, my lips trembling.

"I'll come back" he says, pressing his lips to my forehead and then folding me back into his arms, "I'll come back."

"Do you promise?"

He doesn't speak for a long time and I wonder if he's heard me at all. I consider asking again, but decide not to dwell on my fear, but to dwell on this moment in the comfort of his arms. I don't want to think about it, but the thought is prevalent in my head; that this may the last time he holds me.

He lets go of me abruptly, as if he just needs to make a clean cut away. He climbs onto Epona's back and looks in my eyes one last time, something behind them that makes my heart hurt, a knot in my stomach. He doesn't say anything, doesn't betray his emotions with words, and he doesn't make any promises.

I know that he heard my question, I know that he didn't answer it for my sake, to not fill my mind with false hopes.

I wish he would've lied.

He rides off then, without a word, without a backwards glance. I watch for long moments after that, the cold wind causing the hair on my arms to stand up straight. I let the warm tears on my face turn cold.

"Malon," my dad's voice suddenly says from behind me.

I look down, one of the chilled tears falling from my chin.

"Sweetheart, what are you doing out here? You're gonna catch a cold," he grumbles, wrapping an arm around me and directing me back towards the house. My toes are cold, having left my shoes inside the house, so I don't feel my feet moving, but they take me with him.

"Do you want something to eat?" he asks me, "Some soup or somethin'?"

I shake my head, wandering up the stairs stiffly, holding up my skirt in one hand, pulling myself up the banister with the other.

He sighs, his footsteps following soon after mine. I wander over to the window, my vision skewed as I glance out and see the thick cloud above Castle Town, my heart racing as I know Link will be there soon. My father's footsteps stop at my door as I raise my hand and touch my fingertips to the glass, the cold outside forming little white circles on the window around them.

"Malon," he says hesitantly, not wanting to broach the subject with me.

I jump slightly, not expecting to hear him speak. "Dad... do you remember when I was younger... you fell asleep outside of the castle?" I don't wait for him to respond, I drop my hand and watch the condensation on the window disappear. "When you got back, I told you I wasn't mad. That I don't mind being alone."

"I remember," he says gruffly, the guilt still inside him.

I turn back around, looking at his sullen expression. "I lied," I whisper.

He looks down, taking a step back before quietly saying, "He's going to be fine, Malon. He's a strong boy." He shuts my door as I sit on my bed, finding myself alone again.


I'm roused from my shallow sleep by the soft click of a drawer closing. The darkness of the room disorients me, and I reach out to his body but find his side of the bed empty, the sheets and his pillow, cold. I roll over and find him standing by our dresser, an oil lamp dimly lit by him as he packs one of his bags with clothes.

He sets his bag down and wanders back over to me, his boots echoing in the quiet room on the wood floor. He leans down and presses tender lips to my forehead. "Hey, sweetie," he whispers.

"Good morning," I murmur, my throat still groggy from the early hour.

"Did I wake you?" he asks, an apologetic set to his eyebrows as he sits on the edge of the bed.

I shrug, one side of my lips pulling up into a small smile.

He looks down at his hands, one of his tunics still in them. "I'm sorry. You can go back to sleep now."

I sit up, one of the straps on my dress slipping off my shoulder though he's quick to fix it for me. "No, I'll get up," I say.

"You don't have to," he says, his voice barely above a whisper.

I sit up, swinging my legs over the side of the bed. I lean in and kiss his cheek, "I'll go get you some breakfast."

"If you want to go back to sleep, you can," he says softly.

"I want to get you something to eat," I say with a tired smile, yawning afterward, stretching my arms above my head.

He wraps his arms around my waist, my arms wrapping around his neck and the next second he's pulling me up with him, hooking my legs around his torso. He walks downstairs with me in his arms, I lean my head on his shoulder just like when my dad used to hold me when I was small. He sits me down on the counter once we're in the kitchen, setting his hands on my thighs. I cup his face in my hands, grazing his earlobes with my thumbs and kissing his forehead before hopping down.

"Are eggs okay?" I ask, tucking my hair behind my ear.

"Absolutely," he says, "I'm going to finish packing."

"Okay," I say, turning back to the cupboards to make him his breakfast.

I yawn as I watch his egg cooking in the frying pan, the butter sizzling and crackling. It hasn't hit me yet, that he's going now, or maybe I'm just too tired to fully comprehend that in an hour or so he'll be gone, but I almost feel comfortable with it, just knowing that he's definitely going to come back soon. I just have to make it through.

I hear him coming back down the stairs a few moments later and I smile up at him as he descends upon me. "Smells good," he says gently, not wanting to wake my dad.

I nod and dish the food out onto a plate for him, pouring him a glass of orange juice before sitting down beside him at the table. "Did you sleep okay?" I ask him.

He nods, giving me a reassuring smile that means he's telling the truth.

"Good," I say, resting my cheek on my fist, "it's a long road."

He looks down, scooping a bite onto his fork though he doesn't eat it immediately. "It'll be longer without you," he murmurs before filling his mouth.

"How do you think I'm going to feel?" I ask, giving a theatrical roll of my eyes and pinching the bridge of my nose, "I'm just going to be waiting here... day in... day out... day in... day out..."

A breath of a laugh escapes his lips and it's only a moment before my character breaks and I join him. "I'm going to miss you," he says, narrowing his eyes and shaking his head slightly.

I look down at my hand, tracing patterns on the table with my fingers, mimicking the knots and whorls in the wood. His hand closes over top of mine then, the warmth of his palm causing my jittery fingers to pause. I realize then that the clang of his fork against his plate has ceased, that his glass is empty.

"Thank you," he says gently and then hesitates a moment before saying, "I should go." I nod, standing up and reaching towards his dishes. He picks them up though before I have the chance. "I've got it," he says.

"Thanks," I mumble, crossing my arms as I watch him put them in the sink and then continue over to his bag settled by the front door. I follow him as he puts on a thicker woven jacket to protect him in the early cold, and secures his hat on his head.

I stand in front of him and straighten his hat, smooth out his shoulders before laying a hand on his heart, feeling the faintest of thumping under all of his clothes. Under his jacket I can see the chain that holds my pendant.

"I'll come outside to see you off," I say after a moment, looking up at him with a melancholic grin.

He shakes his head, "It's cold outside."

"It's okay," I say, taking an old knit blanket that had been draped over the back of a couch. I wrap it around my shoulders and wait for him to open the door.

He sighs at my determination and opens the door, slinging his bag over his shoulder as he holds it open for me. I step out into the brisk morning, the sun's rays still hidden behind the horizon, but blue light starting to lighten the world. He closes the door behind him and unties Epona at the barn, leading her back over to me to say our final goodbyes.

"You've got everything?" I ask, the brief paranoia of him being unprepared making me anxious.

"Yup," he says.

"Clothes, food, your gear?" I ask.

"Yes, I have everything," he says with a nod.

I nod, hesitating only a moment before I step forward and he gathers me in his arms. I reach up and wind my arms around his neck, the blanket falling from my shoulders. I step onto his shoes, keeping my feet off of the cold ground as he holds me tight, pressing his lips to my neck.

"Malon," he murmurs softly, his lips so close to my ear, "I love you."

"I love you too," I say, my voice breaking slightly. "Come home to me, okay?"

"Okay, I will," he says softly.

"Promise?" I ask.

He lets go and I step off of his boots as he sets his eyes on me, looking just as clear and cold as the sky in the winter once the clouds have opened up. He crouches down and picks up the blanket that had slid from my shoulders and drapes it around me, pulling me back in once I'm covered again. "I promise."


"It's my fault. I shouldn't have let them take her," Link says, his head in his hands as he sits on my bed.

I lean my head on his shoulder, my hand making circles on his back. "It's not your fault, Link. You did everything you could."

"If I did everything I could, he wouldn't have taken her," Link cries out as if he's suffering.

"Shh." I reach up and let my fingernails trail gently along his neck, "Link, he wants you to have no other choice but to go to his tower. He doesn't want you to be prepared."

"I've been given no other choice," Link mumbles, his voice breaking.

"No, no. That's what he wants you to think. If you just wait, think this through-"

"And wait for the Princess to be killed? Malon, I can't do this!" he shouts, standing up away from my touch.

I can't ignore the hurt in my voice. "Link-"

"He'll kill her and then who's fault is it? She's waiting for me to come," he spills out, his eyes wide as a flurry of emotions cross his face; pain, anger, fear.

I wait a moment, not wanting to be cut off yet again. I can feel tears in my eyes though I don't know why.

We both wait in silence for a long time as he tries to regain his composure. He swallows and then says so quietly that I almost miss it: "At least she'll know that I tried if he kills me."

And then I know why the tears are there. Because he knows he must leave immediately, and he knows that because of that, the battle with Ganondorf will claim his life. There is no time for him to make a plan with the other sages, no time to get Princess Zelda out first. He's expecting death, accepting its inevitability.

"No," I say abruptly, standing up to look him in the eye.

"Mal," he says gently, his voice so weak, the pain bluntly clear in his eyes.

I put my hand to my forehead and divert my eyes from his, almost willing myself to believe this isn't happening, that none of this ever happened. I burst into sobs, and look back up, watching his chest tremble as he watches me, watching his face contort into a miserable image. "You can't think that way," I manage to mumble though my throat feels as if it's closing. "You can't let him take everything again."

He steps forward and quickly sweeps me up into his arms. "Oh, Malon. That'll never happen," he whispers, his voice shaking.

I nod against his shoulder, drying my tears on his tunic though his words aren't able to stop the anxious cries burst from my lips.

He pulls back after a moment and wipes away my tears with his sleeve. I adjust his hat on his head, smooth out his shoulders. "I need to go now," he whispers, kissing my forehead once and then turning away. For a moment I'm too stunned to move, and then he's out of the door, and then I hear him leave the house. The slam of the door snaps me back to reality, starting my heart again as I sprint after him, the adrenaline rushing in my heart as I fear missing him.

As I fly out the door, I find him still preparing Epona to go, tears streaming down his face that he'd tried to hide from me upstairs. For a moment I don't feel the cold, I just feel the relief in my heart that he's still here, so I can tell him I love him before he goes, so I can beg him to come back.

We stand across from each other, his eyes still wide in shock until they ease into concern. "You're shivering," he murmurs.

I'm aching inside, wishing he didn't have to leave, but knowing that he's doing it for Hyrule, for everyone, for me. I've never felt such a weight on my heart, felt it in such a freezing grasp. "It's cold."


"You should go back inside," Link murmurs, after holding me for so long. "You're going to catch a cold."

I nod, stepping back away from him. I look down and let my hair fall in front of my face, hiding my misty eyes.

"I'll be back in a few days," he says, his voice low and reassuring.

I look up and smile at him, "I know."

He mounts Epona and gazes back towards me. "Don't forget about me," he says with a half smile, our little joke for every time he has to go.

"Good luck." He nods at me once before kicking his heels into Epona's sides and disappearing moments later behind the corner. "Be safe," I say quietly to myself once the sound of hoofs on the ground has faded into the chirping of crickets, the soft whir of the wind, the gentle trills of the birds.

I'm about to head back inside when a flutter out of the corner of my eye catches my attention. A spark in my imagination connects what I'm seeing with someone I haven't seen in many years. I envision the sparkling blue light to follow the white wings, the fairy that accompanied Link.

But when I turn to capture her in my vision, all I see is a fluttering white butterfly, lost in a whimsical dance. I follow it out into the corral, alone amongst a chorus of early morning sounds but able to engage me.

It flits off and out of the corral too soon, before the sun has come up to illuminate its display. I hold onto the bars and watch it go, beyond the walls, beyond my line of sight. It's so small, so pure, but able to go so high.

I wander back into the house, already the smell of him fading from our sheets, the drawers empty of his clothes. I miss his clothes on the floor, the sight of him fast asleep on the bed after a long day, his face returning to a state of innocence, his mouth popped open. I wish that the smell of his hair lingered longer on the pillow cases as I rest my head once more, wishing he was here beside me to warm me up.

My door opens a few moments later when my consciousness is almost drained away, my eyes flashing open as I wait with my back to the door, my back to the demons.

"Malon?" my dad asks in a hushed voice.

"Yeah?" I whisper.

"Did he leave already?" he asks, confusion in his tone.

"Yeah... Dad. He left early this morning," I say quietly still, refusing to turn towards him.

"Okay..." he mumbles, closing the door again. When he's gone I close my eyes, tears welling between the corner of my eye and the bridge of my nose, but no one is here to wipe them away this time. I know my dad worries when he's away, worried that I'll slip away like I did once before. I don't like thinking about that time, so I quickly shun it from my mind.

My heart starts racing and I pull the blankets up close to my chin, hiding within them. I'd almost let the demons back in.


Alright guys, we can do this! Five reviews before chapter three!