Hey everybody! Good work with the reviews. You guys make me one happy kid :) So as promised, here is the next chapter! This one is called... Light A Way. The song is by He is We which is one of my absolute favorite bands of all time. Everyone reading this should check them out. They are an incredibly talented little duo and make amazing music. One of the few bands that pleases me with every song they write.
If you want a sneak peek at the songs I'll be using for the story, the playlist and album art for Memento are at: leavenodoubt1432 dot tumblr dot com. (Obviously, just replace the "dots" with actual dots.) Also on the blog are a few pictures that I drew. (though keep in mind, I am NOT a self-proclaimed artist) One I drew a few months ago, and it kind of inspired me to write Memento. One of them, I drew specifically FOR Memento, and one of them I drew for my friend Elena, AKA Zelda-Fanatic121's story "The Legend of Zelda: Terminal Twilight." You guys should definitely check out her story, especially if you're in the mood for a good ZeLink.
Now, to address the people saying that I shouldn't force people to review, I say this: I am not forcing anyone to review, if you don't want to review, then don't. But I can't guarantee that you'll get another update. If my asking you to review puts you off, then sorry, I guess you don't care about how this story goes. The thing is, I am a very busy person, so I am not going to spend hours writing with little to no feedback. It's discouraging and disappointing.
Renegador73095: Thank you! I needed to use a translator to understand your review fully, but it meant a lot to me!
FoxyMonday: I hope you like this chapter after what you said ;)
Savinglifelessness: one of the best reviews I've ever gotten. And thanks for reading After Seven Years too!
Simetra: Hmm, I might just have to. Skyward Sword was soo cute! Stay posted and we'll see what happens after this one is over!
I fold a letter back up he'd given me once, the edges worn, the surface soft and the ink faded. I grin as I glance out through my window, knowing that he'll be here tomorrow at the latest. It was three days ago that he left for the desert, and though I constantly worry for his safety, I've grown more comfortable over time. I have to tell myself that he knows what he's doing. He has to remind me too.
I'm undeniably selfish. The fate of Hyrule, or even greater, the world, rests on his shoulders, and yet I don't refuse his offer to visit the ranch in between the places he sees. I welcome this time, I pray while he's away that he'll be safe, that something greater than myself will guide him home. That it will bring me back to him.
I lay back on my pillow and touch my hand to my mouth, my fingers fluttering over my lips as my mind traces over the last time we'd parted. He'd kissed me so softly.
My fingers ache for the time that they can fit between the spaces in his, my toes curling in anticipation as I pull my knees up to my chest. Soon, I have to tell myself, he'll be home soon.
Our time is short when he's here, he takes much of the time to rest, to eat, but it's much the same for me. As long as he's here that sore spot in my chest feels better, the part that worries and worries for him. I laugh to myself as I recall him telling me that he'd worry about me while he was away. I'd told him he had it backwards. I don't know what he has to worry for now.
That's what he does though. He worries about everyone but himself.
That's part of what scares me. I know that should the situation arise, that he would put himself in harms way for the safety of another. I wish I could understand his selflessness, know why he wants to protect a world that has done nothing but take from him. He is the greatest victim of us all.
I hope he'll be okay after all of this is done. I hope he'll be able to look at me and smile like he means it. I'm scared that everything out there will change him and hurt him and he won't be able to see anything without seeing those terrible things first.
I unfold the piece of paper again, reading its contents with a smile. I pray that the soft humor, the light naivety won't leave him forever.
I jump as I hear the door slam shut. I lay paralyzed with momentary shock until I realize that my father shouldn't be back from his delivery to Kakariko yet. I stand and glance out the window, finding Epona below.
My heart stutters in excitement as I spin back to my dresser. I glance into my mirror once, fixing my tousled hair, straightening my shirt. I fold the letter up and shoving it into a drawer beneath my clothes, managing to shut it away just as he opens my door.
He looks dazed as he stands in my doorway, his eyes softening as they find mine. I lean against the dresser, resting the heels of my hands on its surface as I face him, waiting for him to move closer. "Hi," I manage to say, slightly breathlessly.
He takes a few quick steps forward then, reaching towards me and I close the distance between us. He cups my face into his hands and brings his lips to mine abruptly, his eyes squeezed shut as he kisses me roughly. He pulls back just for a moment and says, "Malon, I missed you."
"I – I missed you too," I say, holding onto his waist. Something isn't right though; something in his haste, his desperation. "Link... what's wrong? You're trembling-"
As if just remembering something, he pushes away from me, his face losing any ease it had once held. He looks anxious as he holds his forehead in his palm, his hand shaking. He steps past me quickly, letting out a shuddering breath as he does so. "I just came back to get some things. But I have to go now," he mutters.
That pain in my chest doesn't relent like it usually does as soon as he's home. It clutches my heart even harder. No. He can't go.
"I don't understand. Why do you have to go now? I thought you said-" I say, the stress making my throat ache as I follow him pick up his things.
"I know what I said," he blurts out, and then stops, turning back around to me. "But things changed."
I remember the way I used to look at the ranch in the late summer, some of the leaves on the trees turning gold and the rich color of the sunset brushing across the grass that ripples in the breeze. It used to be someplace magical, like a picture from a story book.
Now it turns a knot in my stomach as I instead feel the chill of winter creeping in, stealing the vivid green from my trees, the white light from my days. As I gaze across the fields today, a sweeping sense of nostalgia tugs at my lips. My eyes follow the apparition of a small red-headed child chasing a butterfly in her little white dress, a yellow handkerchief billowing out behind her like a cape. She isn't running through a field though, she's running through a sea of golden thread, and she's chasing a star.
She disappears suddenly though, her and the butterfly slipping out of my vision as a seizing ache rocks through my lungs, short coughs escaping my lips. I straighten up, having nearly doubled over with a hand on my chest. I clear my throat, taking a deep breath when I start coughing again, this time though it's more difficult to shrug off. I feel my face getting hot, panic entering my body as I can't stop. I can't get enough air to my lungs.
My feet start stumbling beneath me, carrying me towards the house, to water. I try to cover my mouth with my hand, but it's useless. It's like I have no control over my body as it convulses with endless, breathless coughs. I'm sucking in air in between each, but it doesn't seem to reach my lungs. I can't breathe. Please, somebody help me.
When I finally stumble through the door and make my way over to the counter, I reach for a glass and the pitcher of water sitting out. I lift the pitcher in my hand and attempt to pour the water into the glass, but I knock the glass over, spilling the water in the process. Using whatever control I can maintain, I set the glass back up and pour just enough for me to swallow. I have to use both hands to bring the cup to my mouth, my body shaking beyond my control, and let the water slip past my lips and down my throat, soothing the dry ache for now.
I crumble to the floor, resting my forehead against the cupboards, panting, my chest heaving. Sweat on the back of my neck leaves my hair damp, my body shivering as it cools back down. I stay there for a long while, unsure of if I should move or not, afraid to spur on the erratic coughing fits.
Once my breathing has slowed back down, the sudden aggressiveness of the fit leaving my body fatigued, I make my way up to my room, finding that the sun has slipped down over the horizon. I crawl into my bed, not bothering to change my clothes, shivering and holding my knees tight to my chest.
My door swings open a few moments later, and I open my weary eyes to find my father standing in the doorway, watching me apprehensively. "Malon? I heard you coughing. Are you alright?" he asks.
"Mhmm," I murmur, "I'm okay now."
"Are you sure?" he asks, entering my room and closing the door behind him. He comes and sits on the edge of the bed, laying his palm gently on my knee that is hidden beneath the covers.
"Yeah, it was nothing," I tell him gently, closing my eyes again.
He let's out a shallow sigh. "Alright, Mal. Tell me if it gets worse, got it?"
I nod, waiting until he finally stands up and leaves to turn over and reach over to his side of the bed. I slip my fingers into his pillow case where I'd tucked the letter he wrote me. I don't open it, I just hold it close to me, feeling some peace as my eyes slowly close.
I remember when Link would run me a hot bath when I was sick, boiling countless pots of water without hesitation at the first hint of illness. I would lay in the water until it grew cold, until my fingers were past being wrinkled, inhaling the steam and allowing it to sooth my throat and congested lungs. He would just sit beside me, resting his chin on the edge of the tub and make sure I was okay, sometimes dangling his fingers in the water.
And then he would touch his damp fingertips to my face, erasing the salty trails down my cheeks from discomfort or pain, and replace them with pure water, like clean tears.
"Three days, four at most."
"Longer than usual," I murmur.
"It's a longer trip than usual. Across the desert," he explains.
"Will you be safe?" I ask, a constant concern of mine.
"Of course," he says softly, closing his eyes as he lays in the grass, his hands behind his head.
I bite my lip but lay down beside him, lolling my head to the side to look at his placid profile. "This is the last one... isn't it?"
His eyelashes flutter, his eyes opening just so he can answer me as he turns his face towards me. "Yeah. It is."
"And then..." I trail off.
"And then I'll fight him," he finishes for me.
My brow furrows as I watch him look completely at ease with the situation. "Are you ready to fight him?" I ask.
"I will be," he says, opening one of his eyes to examine my face. "Stop worrying," he adds after a moment, "it'll make you sick."
I roll my eyes to no one in particular. "You know why I do," I mutter, closing my eyes as my gaze returns to the sky.
I hear him take in a sharp breath and suddenly the backs of my eyelids go dark, the sunlight not shining through and turning them red. I open my eyes to find his face hovering above mine, his forehead crumpled as the blue in his eyes warps, anxiety twisting the liquid azure into a hurricane. "What can I do to make you believe me?" he asks almost silently.
I pause, momentarily struck at how close he is to me, trying to kick my mind into making up an intelligible reply. "Nothing," I finally whisper before he almost immediately claims my lips with his. There's no urgency in the way his lips move with mine, there's just an endearing sincerity that makes me believe he's relaxed about this whole thing, and that I should be too.
He pulls back too soon, brushing the tip of his nose to mine. "I should go," he says, "it's getting late."
I purse my lips, tingling slightly from the contact with his, and wait as he pushes himself off of me. "Help me up?" I ask.
"Of course," he replies, taking my hands and helping me up to my feet. As soon as I'm on the same level as him, I sling my arms around his neck, holding him once before he has to go.
"Come back home, okay?"
"I will," he says, reluctantly letting go of my waist, turning to look at Epona, grazing beside us. "Stop worrying," he chides, reading the hesitancy on my face.
I playfully shove his chest away from me, "Just go then," I say sarcastically, but then with a note of seriousness, add, "but don't take too long."
"I'll try," he says, grinning at me as he climbs onto Epona's back.
"I'll see you soon?" I question, my eyes pleading for a good answer.
He nods, his eyes falling from mine to rest on the pendant he made me. "Keep that close. And when you can see the stars tonight, think of me, and I'll be thinking of you."
"And for a moment we'll be together just like we are now? Thinking of each other?"
He laughs silently, shaking his head. "I'm always thinking of you."
I shrug, my cheeks turning pink, "Then we're always together, aren't we?"
He nods, gazing back ahead toward his destination, before kicking his heels into Epona's side and setting off without a backwards glance.
The first day is tolerable, the second day is difficult, the third day is unbearable.
Having not heard from him in so long is starting to wear me down, eat at my nerves. I can't seem to find enough to keep me busy, keep my mind on other things, though the thought of him never strays far regardless. It's not as hard as it once was, where I constantly worried. Where the nagging feeling in the pit of my stomach wouldn't subside.
I walk up the stairs to my bedroom, hoping to find some solace there and retire for the evening. I know it's going to be difficult to find my way through another night of wondering where he is, but this should be the last. I stick my hands into the pockets of my apron as I make my way over to my bed, but I find something within the pocket that surprises me. The worn edges of a piece of paper.
Hands trembling in excitement, I remove the paper from my pocket and bring it in front of my eyes, unfolding the soft creases and reading the words that are written there:
Mal, don't forget about the rock beneath the floorboards.
I won't tell if you don't.
Link
I smile with quivering lips, kneeling on my bed and looking out the window to find the first of the stars showing. I fold the letter back up, smiling to myself as I do so. I hope he's thinking of me now just like he said he would.
I lay back on my pillow, my fingers trailing gently over my lips. Soon, I tell myself, he'll be home soon.
My throat hurts when I wake up, my breathing hoarse. I vaguely recall waking up several times in the night and morning, being unable to breath, coughing hard. Dad had come in a few times, once with a glass of water, once he just watched uncomfortably from my doorway, once he brushed the damp hair off my neck.
This time when I start coughing, he waits until I'm finished to talk to me. "Do you need to go to the doctor?" he asks gently, crossing his arms over his chest.
"No," I manage to say though my voice is croaky and barely audible.
"Then you should be taking your medicine," he says stiffly.
"No," I say stronger this time, sitting up and blinking a few times as I feel blood rush to my head. "I'm not taking that."
"Malon," he begins, "do you want to stay sick?"
"I don't want to take that medicine," I say, my voice thick as I feel tears pricking at my eyes.
"He would want you to take it, Mal," he says softly, easing off as my emotions begin to show.
I shake my head, trying to keep my lips sealed shut so that I don't burst out into exhausted and raw cries. I lay back down, trembling as I face away from him, hiding within my blankets. I just want him to be here. Him being away is tough, but I've become used to knowing that he'll come home, holding onto that to get me through. I've learned to respect what he's gone through and why he does what he does, why he leaves for periods of time.
But when I feel like my body is breaking, there's nothing I want except for him to be here and to comfort me through it.
I feel a hand on my shoulder then, and I jump to find my dad sitting down on my bed. "Please don't do this to me, Mal," he whispers.
"I'm fine," I argue weakly, swinging my legs over the edge of the bed and standing up just to prove to him that I'm alright, just like I'd told him when Link first left. I'm not going to be alright, I am alright. I am.
"Whoa, Malon. Sit back down," he starts to say, his voice sounding distant though, something not right about the way my feet are moving beneath me. I reach my hand out, catching the doorpost before I let myself fall. I turn back to find Dad watching me with anxiety written in his eyes, his hand outstretched like he's about to catch me.
"See," I mumble, "I'm fine."
He drops his hand quickly as if he's trying to erase the fact that he'd reached out to me at all.
I grip the handrail tight as I make my way down the stairs, my mind not confident with following my feet. I make my way to the kitchen and pour myself a glass of water, the strength of my arm depleted but able to do what it couldn't yesterday. I gulp the water back, feeling the groggy residue of the night before being filtered out of my system already.
My lungs expel a few remaining coughs as I try to contain them within myself so that Dad won't hear. I wipe the back of my hand across my mouth and head outside, hoping that the clear air will help rejuvenate me.
It's warm outside, already late. I'd slept longer than I thought. This isn't what I wanted. I didn't want things to change while he was away. I wanted to prove that I was better, that I wasn't going to let what happened get to me while he's away. It's easier to find something to overpower the ache when he's here, not that I'll ever completely forget, but it's easier. I wish I was strong enough.
I sit outside of the ranch until the sun goes down, waiting for some sign of him from the castle. I wait underneath the tree by the entrance and sip tea, one of my blankets draped around my shoulders. Dad checks on me a few times, Ingo peers around the corner at me once, but they leave me alone. I guess they just want to make sure I'm still breathing.
The postman nods to me as he passes, but that is the extent of human interaction.
I like it this way. It's peaceful.
When the moon has drawn the warmth of day away, I head back inside, trying to ignore the disappointment that he didn't come.
I change out of my clothes and find something lighter to sleep in. I shiver as the stale air makes contact with my bare skin, quickly slipping on my nightgown and covering myself in my bed. I keep the letter he wrote me beneath my pillow, and pray silently for his safe return, a small spark of excitement lighting inside of me as I realize that he said he'd be home by tomorrow.
I'm drifting off when I hear my door open and close, quiet footsteps echoing in the quiet closer to me. I wait for my dad to tell me he's going to sleep, to let him know if I feel sick in the night.
The mattress shifts underneath me, a warm hand resting on my shoulder and then something softer, something that makes my heart twist inside of my chest. Lips on my bare shoulder.
I roll over, looking up in the dim light that streams through the windows to find a familiar face above me, weary eyes capturing the star dust and lighting up. I sit up, pulling in a soft gasp as I wrap my arms around his neck, his protective arms winding around my upper body.
"Hey," is all I manage to get out, tired relief straining my throat.
"Hey," he whispers back, his fingers combing through my hair and trailing down my back.
"I missed you," I say, the emotion showing clearly in my voice now.
"Me too," he replies softly.
I pull back slightly, resting my palm on his cheek. "How are you?"
He lets out a breath of a laugh. "Tired," he whispers.
I nod, a shaky cough slipping past my lips. "Do you want to go to bed?" I ask, brushing his bangs out of his eyes with my fingers.
"Not if you're still up," he answers, leaning in to caress his lips to my face again.
"You're so cold," I say gently, "let me run you a bath so you can warm up."
He grins at me, though his eyes are still drained. "You're tired, you don't have to do that."
"I'm awake now," I murmur against his skin. "I'll do it while you unpack."
"M'kay," he says, touching his nose to mine.
I kiss him again, feeling nothing but calm as I sit in his arms, just like he'd never been gone. "Alright," I whisper, reluctantly letting go of him and standing up, "I'll go start that."
"Don't take too long," he says, holding onto my hand until he can't reach any longer.
It doesn't take as long as I had expected to heat enough water for our small tub. Link puts his things away, drops the tunic he's wearing and his hat on the floor, leaving him in his undershirt and light pants. He kicks off his boots and watches me fill the tub, offering to help though I neglect him, wanting to do this for him after he'd done it for me so many times.
When I return upstairs with the last pot of water, I find him sitting on the edge with his pant legs rolled up, his feet in the water. I pour the last of it in and join him on the edge, leaning my head on his shoulder as we sit with each other.
"I was going to come home tomorrow, but I decided I couldn't wait any longer," he whispers.
I smirk, linking one of my arms in his, resting my other hand on his forearm, "I'm glad."
"Your hands are so cold," he says, claiming the hand I'd settled on his arm in one of his.
"I don't feel cold beside you," I say, though I can't deny the difference in temperature between his hand and mine.
He lets go of my hand then and grips the edge of the bathtub. I expect him to climb out so he can undress, but instead, he slips right into the water, completely clothed.
I let out one shocked gasp as I smile down at him, "What are you doing?" I ask as the water sloshes up the sides, splashing me.
He reaches up and takes my wrist in his drenched hand, gently tugging me in after him. Carefully, I follow him in, laying by his side as I rest my head on his shoulder, my hair falling into the water, the side of my face against his wet clothes. His arms encircle me, radiating with the warmth of the water.
"I don't want you to ever be cold," he murmurs once the splashing has subsided and all we can hear are the crickets outside.
Keep those reviews coming guys, I really appreciate your time! Also, I rushed to put this up, excuse any errors and I'll get to them as soon as I can.