Dancing through Seasons

4. Stories and worries

Link blinked dumbly for a moment, trying to process what had just happened, and looking quite the fool for it. Din's soft laugh shook him out of his daze, and he immediately felt stupid for constantly losing his composure whenever he was around her. It wasn't as if she had asked him anything embarrassing, she just wanted to hear his story, like Mel did. Nothing to get flustered over. He took a deep breath and calmed himself, then nodded.

"It's nothing spectacular," he warned them.

"It doesn't have to be," Mel assured the Hylian. "As my mom always used to say: the more ordinary, the better. Less chance you find misfortune on your way." Link mused over that little titbit of wisdom for a moment, but Din urged him on, wanting to know more about her guest.

"Well, to begin with, I don't really remember my real parents," Link began calmly, leaning back a bit, supporting on his hands while he stared in the fire. "Like so many, they fell to the plague that swept across Hyrule when I was only two or so. It's not uncommon to find orphans from around that period."

"That's true," Mel nodded, interrupting him briefly. She had a thoughtful look on her face as if she had been there back then. "It was a very trying time for the Kingdom, I remember."

Link nodded, not knowing what else he could add to that, so he just continued with his story. "I got taken in by a farmer named Tarin and his wife Romania, and they became kinda like my foster parents, even if I was never officially adopted or anything. Tarin's not rich by any means, but his farm fares well and he does good business, so he could take care of some people. Which he did, I wasn't the only orphan he took in. There were three other boys as well. Tarin and Romania only had a daughter, you see, and though she's the best, Marin's just not fit for taking over the farm later. It's a man's job, in the end, and me and my 'brothers' were raised to be just that."

"Ah, so he only wanted to secure the future of his farm, is that it?" Din observed curiously. Link was quick to correct her.

"No, it was genuine kindness on his part, but he also could use the hand once we grew up. And we did just that, we were raised to be farmhands, and the trade was taught to us from the moment we were old enough," the green-clad teen explained. "Coupling kindness with usefulness is how I see it. And Tarin cares for us and always saw us as his sons and nothing less."

"You were lucky, then," Din smiled.

Link nodded solemnly. "Indeed I was. I know of other victims of the plague that didn't have as much luck as I did. So even if the work sometimes was hard, and there was always a lot of it to do, I always kept that in mind to help me through. And besides, most of the time I genuinely enjoyed the work."

"There's nothing wrong with being a farmer," Mel said with a nod.

"Precisely," Link agreed with a smile of his own. "And when you're a child, a farm's a great place to grow up on. Even if I lost my parents, I still consider myself as having had a great childhood. Work aside there's always a ton to do, and whenever we had a free moment me and my brother were off exploring. And sometimes got in way over our heads, too." A grin spread across his face as he remembered those good times. Like that time the four of them had ambushed an Octorok, only to have them get in serious trouble when more showed up and started spitting rocks at them and sent them screaming back home. He chuckled. Now he could laugh with it, of course, but back then Tarin had given them hell for it.

"So as you can see," he concluded with a shrug. "Just a normal boy with a normal childhood who ended up here by a stroke of bad luck."

Mel shook her head and laughed softly, but then excused herself when she saw Impa mentioning her over. This left Link alone with Din, and the two sat together in comfortable silence next to each other for a while. Link found himself staring at the dancer next to him out of the corners of his eyes, but Din didn't seem to notice. She was also leaning back on her hands, one leg hooked over the other, looking up to the stars, humming softly.

"What about your childhood?" Link found himself asking her, much to his own surprise. He had let it out before he very well realised his mouth had formed the words. Din stopped humming and turned her head to look at him.

"Secret," she said smoothly, giving him a wink. Link fought the urge to roll his eyes. Figures, he thought. Then again, it had been a rather direct question, and in the end it was personal, too, and up to Din to decide if she wanted to share or not. It wasn't really any of his business. He looked at her again, only to find that she was still looking at him, though no longer amused, but very serious and silent. She glanced briefly to see if there was anyone within hearing distance, and when the answer to that was negative, she said quietly: "You're wrong, by the way."

Link frowned, not understanding what she meant. "Wrong?" he echoed, puzzled. "About what?"

"When you said you were just a normal boy who ended up here by a stroke of bad luck," Din explained. "You're wrong. It wasn't bad luck, and you certainly are anything but a normal boy." Link's frown deepened, he still didn't understand what she meant or where she was getting this all of the sudden. She seemed so different, somehow. No longer joyful or carefree, but solemn and serious, as if she carried a heavy burden.

"Look at the back of your left hand," the dancer elaborated. "The proof of my words is right there."

Surprised by her request, Link did as told. He lifted the back of his left hand up before his eyes, tilting it a bit so the light of the fire could illuminate it. He was so used that his left hand looked normal that he hadn't paid any special attention to it today. Now, though, he wondered how in the world it was possible that he hadn't noticed, because the strange mark that was now there stood out quite a bit.

Three triangles, standing together to form one large triangle, stood on the back of his hand. They were black, like scorch marks, as if they had been burned into it. In a flash he had a brief recollection of his time in the abandoned castle. More precisely, he suddenly recalled that he had felt a burning sensation in the hand that was now marked. Fiercely, he started to rub it, trying to see if it wasn't just a peculiarly shaped stain, or a bad joke somebody had painted on him.

"It won't come off," Din assured him calmly, still dead serious. She was looking at the mark as well. "That mark is the proof of what I said: that you aren't normal. It is a sacred mark in Hyrule, Link, nobody would ever even dream of painting or scribbling that on your skin. It is the mark of the Triforce."

The news hit Link like a strike of lightning and his eyes widened in shock. He knew he had seen the mark somewhere before, and he cursed himself for his stupidity for not having recognized it himself. He had been educated well, after all, and even to a farmhand like him, he at the very least knew the legend of the Triforce. The relics of the three goddesses, the marks of Wisdom, Power and Courage, said to be able to fulfil any wish when brought together. He winced as another memory flashed before his eyes in a strike of pain. Hadn't there been a bright light in the castle, hadn't there been something triangular inside that light…? Wordlessly, Link stared at his hand.

"That image is often used in Hyrule, especially by the royal family," Din continued. "But it is never tattooed anywhere on the body. The only way for a person to have such a mark burned in their skin, is when someone is chosen for a special fate. Like you."

Link looked up, startled again by her words, wondering when her surprises would stop. "A special fate? Me?" he repeated slowly, in utter disbelief. He fought down the urge to snort, knowing Din would take it wrong, seeing how serious she was. Partly he thought, or rather, wished, that she would burst into laughter any second now, revealing this whole thing to be a joke. But she didn't, her serious, solemn demeanour remained.

"Yes, you, a special fate," the dancer said firmly. "The mark is not to be taken lightly. Don't ask me what it means, why it was given to you or what fate it is, because… I don't know, okay?" The red-haired woman let out a deep sigh and stared in the flames of the fire, looking very tired and worried. "A special fate…" she muttered quietly, so quiet in fact that Link had to strain himself to hear her. Suddenly Din looked at him again, her face twisted in an expression he could only describe as desperation. "Link, I… I…" She faltered then, and her voice died away.

"Yes?" he asked gently, trying to urge her on, wondering if she would now finally let him on to that secret she seemed to have. To his disappointment, however, Din shook her head and looked away again.

"No… no, it's nothing. Nevermind, forget I said anything…" She sighed and climbed to her feet, dusting her bodysuit off with her hands. "I think I'll retire to bed now," she said quietly, turning to smile faintly at him. "Thank you for the story."

Link shook his head, not quite willing to let this all go just yet. "Din, you have to be mistaken, I'm just a normal teenager, just a farmhand!" he said firmly.

The Dancer nodded sadly. "You're right. You're just a farmhand, and I'm just a dancer."

This made Link frown again. Just a dancer? Considering how she insisted he was not a normal farmhand, did she just now imply that she wasn't a dancer either? Not that anything she said now would surprise him, to be fair, but still. He got a bit worried. If she wasn't a dancer like she seemed to be, then who was she? An absurd idea welled up in his mind, and in his confusion at this whole situation, he said it out loud before he knew it.

"Din… You're not the goddess in disguise, are you?"

A moment of silence passed, in which Din stared at him with wide eyes full of shock. Then she burst out into genuinely cheerful and amused, loud laughter. That alone told Link what he had to know, and he felt incredibly stupid for suggesting it in the first place.

"N… no, I am not," the laughing woman said, amused. "I can assure you of that. I'm all made of flesh and quite mortal, trust me." She put her hand before her mouth to stifle another fit of loud, amused giggled. "The goddess, me!" She shook her head in amusement. And as he saw her like that, Link was actually glad he had said his absurd idea out loud. It had apparently shaken her out of her solemn, sombre mood, since she now looked genuinely happy and amused again. He liked her more when she was like that, it suited her so much better.

"Well, sorry," he apologised sheepishly.

"Don't be," Din laughed. "I'll take it as a compliment, thank you." She winked at him again. "But now I'm really off to bed. Good night, Link."

The young farmhand nodded. "Good night, Din. Sleep well."

"Thank you, you too," she replied, before walking away. Link's eyes followed her as she went through the camp and said her good night to the rest of her troupe, until she finally disappeared in the covered wagon near Impa. Once she was gone, Link bowed his head and stared at his feet, musing in silence about all that had just passed. Even a few hours later, when he too retired to his sleeping spot in the second covered wagon, he still laid awake for hours, lost in and troubled by his thoughts.

'A special fate', those three words kept echoing through his head, haunting him and keeping him away. He stared at the mark on his left hand, faintly illuminated by what little moonlight reached through the tree and into the covered wagon. Link kept looking at it, as if doing so would suddenly give him a flash of insight, or make him fully remember what had happened in the castle. It didn't, though, as expected, and the teenager tossed and turned in his bed.

Din had sounded so sure of herself, he remembered, so certain that what she had said to him was true. He had little reason to think of her as a liar, but it still sounded ridiculous to his ears. A special fate, him? He was just a farmhand, he kept repeating to himself. Thinking of himself as 'just a farmhand' made him remember Din's quiet hints that she was not a dancer, which only further confused and troubled him. She had looked so tired, he remembered. What secret did that beautiful woman carry with her? It had to be something of great importance, but what? If she wasn't a dancer, then who or what was she? And why pretend to be a dancer? Not that she really had to pretend, since she was so amazingly good at the art.

The questions and worries just kept coming, and the answers remained frustratingly absent, for hours upon hours. Only when the night was already almost over halfway, when he was finally too exhausted to ponder, did Link drift away into an uneasy, troubled sleep.

To be continued.

...

AN: Next chapter we'll probably finally get to Onox his attack. But I wanted to spend time on Link's thoughts as he learns he has a special fate to fulfil. In the game, Link of course doesn't speak, has no character, but I of course can't write him here as "Special fate? Okay, where do I start?". That wouldn't be realistic. Or interesting.