The Artist and His Muse Chapter 4, a legend of zelda fanfic

Link didn't wake up screaming that morning. He didn't wake up sweating or shivering, still haunted by the face of his shadowy reflection. He woke up as if his dreams had been the most blissful he had ever had. There was a strange sense of satisfaction coursing through his body when he opened his eyes and saw the sunlight pouring in through the windows. Everything, for a moment, seemed beautiful. Link wasn't sure what to make of that beauty, showing itself during the eerie hours of daylight. He lay in bed for a few moments and watched the beauty unfurl around him, noting that he couldn't remember the last time he had had such a feeling of perfect contentment. Then, as if someone had suddenly cried out in his ear, he blinked and sat up in bed and the beauty disappeared. The horrible burden of feeling utterly hopeless descended once again upon his shoulders.

He wondered what Zelda would say when she woke up and didn't hear him screaming. Sitting up and fully aware of the raspy breaths that fell from his dry lips, he looked over at her. She didn't look as if she were sleeping. Her air was too peaceful for that—no tossing, no turning, no hints of slumber on her face. If he hadn't seen her chest gently rising and falling, Link might've thought that she was dead. Her stillness was that deceiving. She must've been in a very deep sleep, though. Her eyelids weren't fluttering as they had been during the night. Sunlight danced along her skin, shining with the remains of his kisses, through the open window.

Link tried to fall in love with her. He decided to begin with her hair. It was spread out beneath her head, shimmering and tangled and the most amazing combination of gold and brown. He grabbed it softly, hoping to be moved by it, and brought it to his nose. Zelda's hair smelled like his tunic, and he couldn't love her through it. He then placed a hand on her cheek and stroked her closed eyelids with his thumb, thinking that perhaps the smoothness of her skin would awaken his inner lover. Her mouth opened slightly at his touch, and she turned her face into his palm. Link's gently lifted his hand and traced the edges of her lips with his index finger and felt her sweet breath against his tingling skin. Her lips were bright red, like blood, and they felt supple. But he still didn't love her.

He bent down, pressed his forehead lightly against hers, closed his eyes to immerse himself in the touch, and breathed into her. His hand moved down to her neck, where it danced along the thin, warm skin, and felt her steady pulse. Everything was so soft and smooth, and Link could taste the mingling of his breath with hers. His eyelashes brushed hers. As he let his hand move, just barely grazing her skin, down from her neck to her chest, her body began to rise. It seemed for a moment that there was a puppet master hovering above them, and there was a string in the center of Zelda's chest, and the puppet master was pulling her gently upwards while Link's hand made its way to her slender stomach beneath the covers. And even as she responded so gracefully to his touch, even as her breathing entered his body, even as he craved the feeling of her skin, he didn't love her.

Finally, he gave up and withdrew. As the princess fell back into her deathly slumber, Link stood up and began getting dressed. He suddenly hated the sunlight. He hated the room. He hated the fact that there was a beautiful girl in the bed beside him, and he hated it that the beautiful girl loved him. He hated that when he looked out the window, he could see a town unfurling in the morning hours. He hated that he could see people smiling, parents working, children playing. He hated that they didn't seem disturbed. They were perfectly happy. He absolutely hated it.

"Oh, come now. That scowl is so unbecoming on that beautiful face of yours."

The voice was familiar, but Link couldn't quite pinpoint it. It was like the voice of someone who had lovingly spoken to him as a child, when he must have been too young to recall the face. But the voice itself was so distinguishable—he had to have heard it before. Then, as he looked at his faded reflection in the window, he saw someone tall and dark looming behind him. The person had red eyes.

Link grabbed his sword from where it sat on the floor beside him, unsheathed it, and whirled around, stumbling over himself and fumbling with the blue hilt. He expected to find himself face to face with a towering figure, looking down upon him with bloodthirsty eyes. Instead, Link was face to face with emptiness. He hadn't realized how loud the drawing of his sword had been until he noticed Zelda sitting up in bed and clutching the covers against her chest. Her eyes were wide and her mouth was open, and she was staring at Link with a wild expression.

"Wha...?"

"I—"

"What are you doing with your sword?" she stuttered.

He could hear her panting, and abruptly became aware of his own heavy breathing. Link stood up straighter and let the tip of sword drag against the ground. The energy that had only a moment ago been pulsing through his veins swiftly seeped out of him. He felt very, very tired, and he felt frightened.

"Nothing..."

"Link, what's going on?"

"I...I thought I saw someone."

He felt as if he needed to admit that to himself, so he told her. The words tasted like blood on his lips.

"Saw someone?! Who?"

Zelda's eyes began darting around the room. She tightened her grip on the blankets bunched in her fists. Link considered asking her why she was so scared—after all, she hadn't experienced what he had. She couldn't have. She didn't understand him, his nightmares, the person he had seen in the window. So why was she so scared?

"I don't know," he replied. "Someone tall and dark."

"Goddesses, Link, don't scare me like that."

Her expression became a combination of relief and exasperation.

"I-I'm sorry."

He realized his hands were shaking, and no matter how hard he tried, he could not get his heart to stop beating at the speed of light. It pounded in his chest like a drum, drowning out the noise around him and constantly reminding him of the person he had seen. And that voice, like the hidden tune of a music box, continued singing in his head. "That scowl is so unbecoming on that beautiful face of yours," it kept saying. Over and over again. He tried to hide the trembles that burdened his body as he bent down and put the sword back in its sheath.

"Link?"

He felt himself jump as Zelda said his name.

"Are you all right?"

He continued to stare at the ground, but he could hear her get out of bed. Her footsteps were light but pierced his brain as she made her way toward him.

"I'm fine, I'm fine," he heard himself say. The words didn't sound like they could be coming from his mouth, though. His lips seemed too icy to be able to move.

Suddenly her hands were on his shoulders and forcing him to stand straight. He bit his lower lip to keep it from trembling too noticeably. Her deep, blue eyes sparkled with concern as she examined his face and habitually straightened the wrinkles in his tunic. She pressed the back of her hand to his forehead, and then mimicked him by biting her own lip. Link wondered how horrifying he looked.

"You don't have a fever."

Zelda was speaking more to herself than to him. He noticed that she did that a lot.

"I'm not sick, Zelda."

"No, you don't seem sick," she mused. It was then that Link noticed how magnificently naked she was.

"You didn't have to get out of bed for me."

"I'm worried..."

She started playing with his hair again, as she always did right before she kissed him. He had become so accustomed to the feeling of her delicate fingers in his locks, undoing tangles in one spot and causing them in another.

"Really, I'm fine. I think the light was just playing tricks on me."

"Mm."

Zelda stood on her toes, placed her hands on his chest, and kissed him. More by instinct than anything else, he put his hands on her bare hips and opened his mouth to mold into hers.

"I suppose you're right," she murmured. "After all, I can't remember the last time you didn't wake up screaming. Today must be a good day."

"Maybe..."

She kissed him again, and he thought that maybe he would love her then. But he still didn't. At that point, he almost felt guilty letting her body fall into his and savoring the skin beneath his fingers.

"Why are you up so early, anyway?"

The princess stepped away and made her way to her closet. The sun created a glimmering silhouette around her body, and Link almost believed that she was floating rather than walking. She opened the door of her closet and grabbed a white dress.

"I think I'll go into town." The idea entered his thoughts just as he said it.

"For what?"

"I don't know. It's been a couple of days since I was there."

"Oh. All right, then."

"Do you want me to get you anything?"

"No, thank you."

The dress fell against the curves of her body, and she reached her arms above her head and stretched.

"I'll be back," he reassured as he grabbed his bag. "In time for supper, okay?"

"All right."

Link felt obligated to kiss her lightly on the cheek before he left the room. She smiled and closed her eyes as he did, and when she opened them, he was gone. He skipped down the stairs, rushed through the halls of the castle, desperately bolted out the door before anyone could stop him. Something about the atmosphere was stifling. He had to leave before he drowned in his own despairing thoughts. He wasn't positive that Castle Town was the right place to escape to, but it was his only choice. And so, he ran as quickly as he could from the main doors of the castle, walked past the guards, and subjected himself to the rush of the city plaza.

As he walked through the streets of people, he recalled looking out of the window and hating it. His hatred for the air of the town had subsided a little, but bitterness still permeated his mind. Something felt dirty and squirmy inside of him, and he wanted to cleanse himself of it. But more than anything, he wanted to get the voice of the dark, tall person out of his head.

"That scowl looks so unbecoming on that beautiful face of yours."

Over and over again in his head, as if he were hearing it anew each time. He tried to let the sounds of the town's inhabitants drown it out, and he tried to think about something else, and it faded eventually. But he could still feel its echo in his skull. It was almost painful.

Link let his legs take him wherever they pleased. First, he walked around the fountain a few times. He listened to the music of the small trio playing beneath the archways, watched the children trip and play in front of him, overheard the gossip of the young women and the old women who gathered, tried to enjoy the sun. He kept walking in circles, taking notice of the same things happening in the same places. Everything was bright and clear, but at the same time, everything was foggy. He kept his eyes on the ground as he walked and watched his own feet take one step after another. One moment everything was too fast, too loud, too excited. The next, the world was slow. The voices were dim. And through it all, Link felt the same emotion of monotonous despair.

"You're just going to keep walking in circles? Is that it?"

The voice was right in his ear this time, and he could almost feel someone's chin resting on his shoulder.

Link swatted at his ear wildly and began tripping over his own feet as chills suddenly covered his skin. He bumped into people, sent them flying, as he turned around to face the person who had whispered those horrifying words.

There was nobody there.

He began hearing murmurs of the people around him, utterances of how rude, how odd, how strange, how jumpy he was. Their words were like bees buzzing around his head, too loud for him to think clearly. The world fell into chaos around him at the feet of that voice. In a panic, Link stumbled to the edge of the fountain and forced himself down before his knees had the chance to give out. He buried his face in his hands, rubbed his temples, and became even more frightened by his own scattered breathing.

He could feel people looking at him. He knew that they were watching him. This strange young man—one they swore they had seen before—hunched over on the edge of the fountain, breathing so heavily that his entire body shook.

"Oh, that's right! He's the new knight."

"No, really?"

"Yes, yes, I'm certain! His knighting ceremony is in a couple of weeks."

"So he's the one who's been gallivanting around with the princess, huh?"

"That's the one!"

"Well...what is he doing here?"

"And whatever is the matter with him?"

Shut up, shut up, shut up, he thought. Stop talking, please, please, please.

Link pulled at his hair and wanted so badly to feel the pain in his scalp. Anything to distract him from the voices, endless voices, circulating around him like cockroaches. Sweat poured down his face like waterfalls. He turned around and began desperately splashing his face with the water in the fountain, biting down hard enough on his lip to draw blood. The water was cold against his face, but as it penetrated his skin and washed away the sweat, he felt even dirtier. He opened his eyes and looked down at his reflection in the water. Crazed, bloodshot eyes, as pale as a ghost. And then the water began to change. It twisted in milky circles that distorted his features and made him look, at first, like a monster. Then the ripples rushed through the surface, and Link was left to stare at his reflection once more. Except that his hair was no longer blond, but the color of a raven's black feathers. The signature blue hue of his eyes was replaced by a piercing red. The lips of his reflection were upturned and peeled back to reveal a smirk...but he himself wasn't smiling.

"Aren't I breathtaking?" he said to himself. Link felt his mind caving in on itself. "Simply breathtaking?"

"No, no, no, no," he repeated. He kept shaking his head, but his reflection stood still and continued smile.

"Is it getting to you, Link?" his reflection asked. "Is it all getting to you?"

"Stop, stop, stop, stop..."

"Just admit it."

The voice was in his ear again, whispering, so close that he could feel the saliva against his skin.

"You want me. You want me more than anything."

"I don't want you more than anything—"

"Yes you do."

"I hate you more than anything..."

"No, no, no," the voice laughed. Link was frozen, staring at the lips of his reflection move as he himself stood completely still. "You love me."

The last thing Link remembered before he let darkness take him was the sound of his own bloodcurdling scream.