Dinner and a Familiar Lullaby

Chapter 3

When the fishermen's conversation was reaching its peak, Zelda and her son Cason had arrived at their home, a one-story, thatch-roofed treehouse accessed by a short ladder leading to an unsteady porch barely wide enough to allot three occupants.

With Cason in a tight one-handed clasp, Zelda carefully ascended the rickety ladder, reminding herself grudgingly that this was yet another thing Link had "forgotten" to fix, but she quickly pushed the concern to the back of her awareness, pulling herself onto the deck and bursting through the marred wooden door.

Immediately, the zesty, smoky aroma of onion and cucco filled her and Cason's nostrils, as sweet as the scent of a fresh rain fall and just as welcoming. It made Zelda's stomach churn with hunger and Cason's mouth water.

"Sorry I'm late!" Zelda strode into the room, nearly knocking head-first into her husband, a tall, sturdy fellow whose features were mirrored in those of his son. Neck-length, wind-swept golden hair, demeaning brows, and bright blue eyes, completed by a line of lips set as though the owner were in deep contemplation—was a description apt to depict the handsome man.

Link's stern countenance quickly fell when his eyes caught sight of his spouse, her cheeks flushed crimson with exhilaration.

"…Don't be sorry," he began undecidedly, the soft spot in his heart toward Zelda once again desisting him from acting upon the unpleasant emotions which arose in his mind during the long, toilsome day. With her beside him, all else—burdens of labor, concerns for his family, and pains in his mind and muscles—all melted away into nonexistence and were replaced by a warm, cozy sensation. He gazed contentedly into her sweet, bluish-gray eyes, full of love and delight.

"You're here now," he continued in a quiet voice, but awakening from his reverie, he gave Zelda and Cason a quick hug before motioning them toward the table. "And I have everything ready for us."

Zelda gasped in ecstasy.

"Why, it's most lovely!" she cried, hastening toward the old countertop made new by its tablecloth of soft, crimson fabric.

"What? What is it?" exclaimed Cason, wriggling in Zelda's arms.

"While we were out, Father has been about lighting the candles and filling our dishes," she murmured into his ear, her wet voice soft and tickling, making him squirm. "He has laid out a tablecloth also, and the candles cast a lovely silhouette over the room," she finished, raising her chin to smile at Link in gratitude. His heart quickened at the sight of the long-awaited reward.

"Don't look too long," he began after a moment of soaking in her unmentioned appreciation, his arm casually wrapping itself around her waist. "I am very hungry, and did this purely to preoccupy my mind on something rather than the tempting aroma of the kettle." The crafty smile Link unsuccessfully tried to suppress made Zelda laugh, a charming sound, soft like a dove's coo, yet big and full like a bell.

"Oh, yes! And I am hungry too," she giggled. "Let us eat."

Zelda sat Cason in his seat on the far right, silently placing the candles on the opposite side of the table to avoid disaster. When all was compete, she lowered herself into the chair beside Cason and smoothed out her gown. Link then sat in the chair beside her and quietly folded a misplaced curl behind Zelda's ear. A cool jitter flushed through her body at his touch.

"Ooh! It's cucco soup!" exclaimed Cason, who had felt for his utensils and without restraint, downed a spoonful. "My favorite!"

"Yes, and you doubt that I made it specifically for that reason?" marveled his mother brightly. Cason smiled and shook his head rapidly, his cheeks flushing with delight.

"This must be the best day in all the wide realm!" he shrieked merrily. "Only I wish my friend Dawn could share a part in this meal. I wonder if it is her favorite too…" As the boy continued to slurp and talk, the parents glanced at each other, unsure what to think.

"I suppose I should have asked...but it didn't occur to me... Perhaps tomorrow I shall get to—"

"Who are you talking about?" queried his mother. The boy dropped his spoon into the soup with an ear-spitting clatter.

"Oh! Mother! She was a girl, and she was sweet. And she said I have your heart, and I like her. And I'm going back to talk to her again tomorrow, am I not? Oh, please say I am!" He rung his little hands together feverishly.

With worry arching her brows, Zelda looked at her husband for support, but Link didn't share her concern.

"So you met a new friend?" he asked between mouthfuls, seeming undaunted by his son's unusual excitement. Cason nodded briskly.

"She said she hadn't a name or a mother, so I named her Dawn and said that my mom would love her. Oh, wouldn't you, mother? But then she ran away. Yet I think she'll come back if she sees me waiting. Don't you think she will?"

Zelda continued to stare intently at Link, annoyance flashing in her eyes as he unknowing continued to ignore her, quieting sipping his soup.

"I think she will return if she is really your friend," he answered, when Zelda refused to respond.

"Yes…" wavered Zelda solemnly after a moment of unsettling silence.

As Cason continued to chat on about his brief acquaintance and how wonderful she was, Zelda became more and more fretful. She was glad when dinner ended and she had an opportunity to interrupt his electrified rant.

"Cason," she began. "I see that your plate is nearly empty. Have you finished?"

Cason's eyes widened, and he reached down. Grabbing his bowl and putting it to his lips, he sucked the very last drops from the base.

"Now I'm done!" he said with a smile, his face dripping with broth. A wild carrot clung helplessly to his chin.

"Oh, darling," Zelda crooned. Standing, she took the bowl from him, placed it back on the table, and began wiping away the mess he had made using a towel she always kept close at hand for instances such as this.

When he was clean again, Zelda relaid the news, "It's time for bed, you know." At first, Cason didn't react, allowing Zelda time enough to lift him from his chair, but when he realized she was not joking, he squealed, his eyes widening as if she were about to carry him to his doom.

"I don't want to go to bed!" he shrieked outright. Wriggling like a worm, he pushed her away, ignorantly unaware that if he succeeded in his escape, he would have fallen quite a distance to the floor. Thankfully, Zelda was not about to let that happen. She held him tightly, expecting every move he made.

"Please mamma, can't I stay up a little longer?" He stared at her with wide, pleading, absent eyes, trembling with anxiety. Usually Zelda would give in to his entreating, but though she felt the evaluating tug in her heart, bigger matters than his desires were weighing upon her tonight. Right now she needed to talk with her husband alone.

"No…" She hesitated. "Momma is tired and wishes to go to bed also."

Many years ago, Link had learned that he had no authority concerning whether or not his child was allowed to remain awake past bedtime, for Zelda would always have the last word, no matter what. Therefore, he stayed out of the conversation, meanwhile pouring himself another serving of soup.

Zelda glanced at him comically before she vanished into Cason's small room, having to slouch beneath its heavily-slanted roof. She sat Cason on his bed before grabbing some pajamas out of a hand-carved dresser nearby. As she helped Cason change, he pleaded with her.

"If I must go to bed now, will Daddy at least tell me a bedtime story?" he implored. Zelda shook her head decidedly.

"No way!" she began, tickling him under the chin. "His stories always get you all roused up and excited. Right now you should be thinking about sweet, darling things…like a brisk, warm breeze or a fresh summer rain." Zelda pulled the last of Cason's nighttime garb—a soft, green night cap—over his tangled hair before lying him down on the cot. She kissed him on the forehead and went to hasten to the doorway, when Cason called out sharply, "Mom!"

"Yes." Zelda turned impatiently.

"Will you please, please sing to me?" he begged, wrinkling up his face until it turned red with exhaustion.

Zelda wavered for a time, glancing between the hopeful young boy and her husband in the kitchen, but finally her face softened.

"...Oh…alright" she yielded, leisurely walking back toward the cot.

Zelda sat beside Cason and stared down into his upstretched face. Breathing in a quiet breath, she began the one lullaby she knew by heart—the one that had been sung to her as a child, though she had altered the words somewhat from the original.

"Dear-est child…" she began in a soft and low, drawn-out voice. "...Close your eyes…Sleep and dream until the sunrise. I'll be here…so you need not fear…as this world stands still." Her voice came out strong and clear as she hit the high note, and her son's smile widene, as he listened with all his little heart, reciting each passionate word in his mind as she sang them.

Wondering what was keeping Zelda, Link went to the room, but he paused in the doorway, enwrapped in her magnificent voice. He had forgotten how beautiful it was, having not had time to listen to her melodies in what seemed to him many years, but, in truth, it hadn't been that long a duration. It was just that every time he heard her voice in song, it was new to him, sweet and ringing and passionate like an endless river. He gazed at her lovingly, but she didn't see it. Her back was turned, and she didn't know he was watching her.

"Oh, way beneath the stars…peace, will not wander far. Love…is a sweet promise I'll keep." As Zelda continued, her voice began to waver.

Cason didn't catch the pain quivering in her vocals, for he was slowly descending into a peaceful slumber, but Link immediately detected it. In a second, his arms were around her, caressing her frail white arms, supporting her weak body. She forced a painful smile as she continued, but her eyes brimmed with tears.

She couldn't understand it. Many times, more than she could remember, she had sung this same song to Cason to lull him to sleep night after night, and every time she had been able to conceal the hurt, drown out the ghostly voice that would haunt her every lyric, blink away the piecing crimson eyes that would gaze at her through her remembrance. But now that never-faded memory struck into her vision, blurring her eyes with a sight too awful to bear. A lady with white hair lay, white and beaten, in a garden, holding Zelda's hand...singing...and slowly slipping away from her...into a death bleak and mysterious, and there was nothing Zelda could do to help her.

Unlike Zelda, Link didn't question her uncommon moodiness. He knew the story, for he had been present at the time, and it too sometimes brought a secret and unshed tear to his eye. He began gently leading Zelda out of the room, trying to do so quietly, but the floor creaked with each step, and Zelda's sobs, though quiet, rebounded loudly in the empty room.

Cason opened his eyes.

"Mother, father? Are you there?" he whispered uncertainly.

"Wait for me in our room, dearest," Link purred into Zelda's ear, and she obeyed, fleeing to her room.

When she was gone, Link walked over to Cason. "I am here. Goodnight, son," he said solemnly, leaning down to kiss the boy's forehead, but Cason's words made him stop and listen.

"Oh, Daddy. ...Who do you think Dawn was? She seemed so special to me." The boy looked genuinely perplexed.

"I don't know," wavered Link, planting the kiss in its mark before rising.

"...Maybe she was an angel..." he added quietly before leaving, his mind still focused on Zelda and how she was faring.

"…An angel…" Cason murmured mystically to himself when Link had gone. He gazed absently at the dark ceiling woven with the distilled silver and gray emittance of the moon as it gleamed through the cracks of the the curtains. "That's what she was…"