four: queen of light and livestock

"Ganondorf."

I can't say I'm surprised; I half suspected that he knew who I was. The trouble is, now I don't think I can defend myself, much less possess the strength to face the Hero in an actual battle. Why did I follow him to this forest, anyway? He baited me; I relied too much on my outward appearance. It seems that underestimating this brat is a recurring oversight for me. It's bad habit. I am too prideful, I suppose. This does not bother me. Pride goeth before a fall, but I have been falling all my life. I am used to getting up, brushing off the dirt, and trying again.

"He's done something to you, hasn't he?"

Link's next question befuddles me. He? He who? Did he not just say—?

"Tell me, Midna. Has Ganondorf manifested himself in the Twilight Realm?"

Din save me, this boy is as thick as iron. "I told you I cannot remember a damn thing."

Link massages his left hand. "I can…I can sense remnants of his power in you," he admits, and his voice grows abruptly harsher. "The fiend probably put you under some kind of curse. I don't know how he managed to enter the realm of the living but I have no doubt that he's back. He's like a roach."

Steady yourself, Dragmire, I warn my body as my hand involuntarily curls into a fist.

The Hero seems to be talking to himself.

"We have to figure this out, in any case. Strange things have been happening around Hyrule for a while but I didn't think that it was that serious...and there's no way back to the Twilight Realm without the Mirror. Perhaps we can lure him to Hyrule somehow—" He stops himself and turns to me. "Do you remember anything, Midna? Anything at all? What were you doing before you woke up in Hyrule Field? Was there any warning beforehand?"

I was floating in the nothingness that you condemned me to.

"If I have to repeat myself again I think I'll scream," I reply. "I know nothing. I was there, and then I was here. I feel so…lost." I struggle to keep the smirk off of my lips. It's a truly pitiful performance; I have to go about this operation delicately.

I try to keep my gorge down as I reach out and take one of Link's hands in both of mine. Steady, steady. "But I believe that I am back for a reason. I need to get back to my kingdom, and you're the only person I can turn to for help. I need you, Link. Please say that you'll help me."

He looks so lost. His fingers tighten against mine and I have to nearly bite through my tongue to avoid recoiling.

Yes. Believe my lies, Hero. Have faith in me. Let me see how trusting you are.

"I will do everything in my power to help you, Midna. It is my duty as your former partner and your friend."

How scripted. How sweet. How perfect. I smile wanly back at him as he beams up at me. He is a little boy again, looking up at me with awe. I very nearly have him in the palm of my hand. I must play the part, now. I can't let him see past the façade.

"Let's hurry to the village, then, shall we?" I quip lightly. Still holding my hand, Link turns and leads me down the path, clicking his tongue at Epona to follow him. The forest is shrouded in twilight now but the Hero's hand in mine is sure. The resonance of the two Triforces is enough to make my mouth water. Courage is as good as mine.

It is too dark to see much when we enter his house—of course you would live in a stump, carrier of the ancestral title of Hero of Time—but Link, ever the gentleman, points out the ladder that leads to a wooden platform sticking out of the hollowed-out tree trunk. There's another ledge, higher up, nearly twenty feet above the ground.

"You can sleep in my bed."

I will die first. "My back hurts; I'll make due against the wall. Thank you, though."

Thankfully, he doesn't argue. We are both exhausted from the stress of the day. Mounting the ladder himself, he waits until he reaches the uppermost platform to call down to me, "Sleep well."

Collapsing against an empty space on the curved wall of wood, I slide into a sitting position on the ground, on leg tucked under my body. My body that's not mine. The limbs that I'm looking at are false. I am a self-made prisoner. The back of my right hand is blank and cold.

Din, I call wordlessly. You are there. I know You are.

No response.

I rest my elbow on my raised knee and let my head thump against the wall behind me. Sleep does not take long to find me.

I wake up to complete darkness. For a moment I am disoriented; I immediately think that I am back in that endless space between Life and Death, always dying but never dead. The echoes of time do not reach me there.

Some day, when this seal is broken…that is when I will exterminate your descendants! As long as the Triforce of Power is in my hand—!

Ah, yes. I said that once, didn't I? How many lifetimes have passed since then?

Oft I find that I cannot remember who I am, or which incarnation of myself I happen to be residing within. I seem to be the only one of the Three who retains dim echoes of who and what I used to be. It is tedious, having to explain my ambitions over and over to the other two when they finally catch on. Perhaps this time I should overlook such trivialities.

But there are sounds in these shadows that make me realize that I am no longer lost to an eternal space; the scurry of small paws, the flutter of owl wings, the sounds of a breathing world all alert me to the fact that I am breathing right along with it. I have been allowed to walk the world once more. Something has freed me. I remember a face, a myriad of colors, and….

I raise my hand in front of my face. The room is black as pitch but strange markings on my arm glow coolly, illuminating the space around me.

Ah. So it wasn't a dream. Pity.

I sit up. I hear steady, rhythmic breathing on the ledge above me. I rub my temples, appalled at the situation. My eternal foe and I, sleeping in the same room as each other.

My eyes are growing used to darkness, and there is some light coming from a heavy moon outside of the open "window" near the uppermost part of this dead stump that the Hero calls a home; thus I am able to easily lower myself down the ladder from the ledge where I was sleeping. The fire has burned out and the smell of smoke has been overridden by the smell of the night-blooming niphlox flowers, but the summer night warmly greets me as I open the door and wander into the dark.

Something is calling me. Nagging me, more like it; I feel compelled to seek something, even though I am not sure what I should be looking for. It is close by; I can sense that much. And it is waiting.

The red mare shifts in a grassy space next to her master's house. Her ears flick backwards when she catches my scent with her flared nostrils, and she stamps her foot in warning.

"Believe me, the feeling is mutual," I say. Good goddesses, is this really my voice…?

The Ordonians have treaded many pathways through the heavy trunks of their surrounding woodland; the dirt is worn smooth and feels decently cool under my blistered feet as I wander through the forest. I never thought I'd be thankful for such a small mercy. It will take a while for me to break this body in.

I come to a small junction in the woods. The path I have been walking leads straight over the wooden bridge that I crossed yesterday when entering the village, but a second trail leads through an ivy-covered gate and into a clearing, which houses a flowing spring, crystal waters turned silver with the light of the moon. The circle of trees around the spring shift in the wind, casting dancing shadows on the sand.

I set my jaw and enter the hallowed ground, crossing my arms when I see a figure standing in the middle of the pool of water, snatching playfully at a group of fairies dancing above its head, just out of reach. The form is transparent and I am barely able to make out the delineation of its limbs, but that doesn't matter. Its face is what I am interested in. It is shadowy like the rest of its form, but with each turn of its head, I can make out flashes of color. Majora.

"They won't come to you like that," I say dryly. "You have the eyes of a wolf."

"And you," the figure replies in a symphony of voices, "have the eyes of a girl."

It turns its back, but the head rotates on its neck and faces me. If the mask had a mouth, I'm sure it would be smiling.

"Tell me, princess, do you like your new dwelling? I must admit, you have adapted to it quicker than I thought you would! I guess you had no problem getting in touch with your more feminine side."

I bristle. "I hardly think it is beneficial for you to have brought me back in this condition."

"Ah, the dark wizard is concerned for my ultimate well-being! Thank you; but I will keep you as you are."

"Where is my real body, you little wretch?"

The figure's grasping fingers still. It turns towards me and smoothly raises its arm, the palm of its hand facing towards me.

"I think you had better watch your tone with me, King of Evil," it says. I am about to retort when something shatters inside of me and ignites my body with paralyzing agony. I clutch my chest, unable to draw breath to even scream. I feel myself being moved, and I dimly realize that I am being held above the ground, as if by an invisible hand. I can only watch with blurred vision as I am dragged through the air to hover in front of Majora's shadow. The mask regards me with its lidless stare.

"You thought you could escape our contract," it gently whispers, the voices belying its obvious anger. "Even though your mere existence depends upon my magic, you still thought of betraying me."

"It appears," I wheeze, my body recoiling with the pain lancing through it, "that you have a brain behind those empty eyes of yours."

Majora laughs, the sound high and hysterical in the small grove. The invisible hand drops me and I land with a mighty splash in the water, choking. The pain throbs once, twice, and then ebbs away until all I feel is a splitting headache.

"Judge not by appearances," it singsongs, dancing in front of me. "You'll learn that phrase quickly enough. I have taken great pains to make sure you don't slip the leash. If you want your true form restored to you, you had best work on finding a key for that door I want you to open. Until then…well." Majora crosses its arms, putting one hand under its pointed chin. "You will just have to deal with those swaying hips of yours."

"It seems you've already manifested yourself back into Hyrule," I spit back at him. "Why do you still need my help?"

Majora shakes its head. "You house a portion of my magic. Wherever my magic is, I exist also. Not in form, no. I have no form. Not yet. I still need you for that."

The figure is quiet for a few moments. Then it points absently at me. "When I wish to communicate with you, you will hear me." It brought its face close to mine. "And you will answer."

I don't reply. I don't have time to.

In the space between one heartbeat and the next, the quiet silver forest around me explodes with harsh golden light. I find myself kneeling in the spring, the water lapping at my thighs. The fairies have evacuated the premises. The shadowy figure wearing Majora's Mask is nowhere in sight.

It's morning.

Have I been sleepwalking?

And something is incessantly nudging the back of my head. I put my hand up to shoo whatever it is away; my fingers sink into something wet and slimy. I look hesitantly over my shoulder.

An Ordon goat is standing next to me in the spring. Its blue coat, flecked through with patterns of white, looks freshly trimmed but still rather to heavy for such a hot summer day. A lead rope trails from its single, circular horn and a hank of something orange hangs out of its mouth. I realize it's my hair.

"Stupid animal," I say, jerking my head away. The goat clamps its lips together in an attempt to rescue its 'meal'. "You can't eat this. You'll get colic. Leave it!"

The goat begins walking backwards and starts pulling me after it, giving my hair a few sharp yanks for good measure. Forced to follow it by the sheer pull of its body, I stumble along, bent over at the waist, all the while trying to shove my hands into the goat's mouth to get it to release me. I receive a ring of teeth marks around my wrist for the effort.

"Miserable creature; that hurt!" I am appalled to find myself complaining. If I had any idea how to control the magic in Midna's body then this goat would be roasting over a bonfire by now. I wouldn't need to resort to protesting like a child. "When I regain my true power, I will make sure that you will be the first course served at my coronation feast! I said let go!"

In a last-ditch attempt, I dig my hands into the goat's fur and rear my head back. The pull is so violent that a sharp pang shoots down my neck, followed by a tearing sound and the feeling of a huge patch of hair being ripped out of my scalp.

The goat spooks at the sound, and I find myself with both hands clapped to the side of my head, bellowing curses to wake the dead. The goat, kicking up its back hooves, bleats in triumph and prances down the path towards the Ordon Village, a decently large trail of sunset color held tightly in its mouth, blowing like a banner in the wind.

I return to Link's abode, locate a small hunting knife in the basement, and proceed to shear off every damnable inch of this ridiculous mop of hair. Since this, apparently, is going to be me until I can get myself back from that mask, I'm going to do damn well what I want to this body to make myself as dignified as possible.

Which means no more getting shoved around by goats.

Lesson learned.

It is always hard for me to write Link because he has always been the "silent hero" for me. Talking just doesn't suit him. My apologies for making him so stiff; I'll work on improving this.

Also, has anyone noticed there is an inordinate amount of Midna-hatred among LoZ fans? Good lord, I didn't really pay attention at first, but most people shit themselves when you mention L/M pairings. I'm not really a shipper of anything (if it's written well then I'll like it) but it still irritates me that people won't give a character their due just because of preconceived notions about how the fandom "works".

Please review (or don't :3) and tell me what I need to do to improve. Have a wonderful day!