Alright, geeks and freaks. Here we go! Week TWO! Send me those requests because they give me life and they keep the ole noggin churning with bad ideas.
For today, we'll be taking a nice little stroll down soulmate lane! This oneshot comes at the request of Wisdom-of-me, and pulls on traditional eastern folklore + the waywaywaytoomany hours of anime that I've watched to provide a really, truly ridiculous piece of fluff. I would be ashamed but I lost my shame a long time ago and ever cared to find it again.
Order up!
Drabble VII: Sweet Beginnings
On the worst, most miserable, most horrible day of Zelda's life, she met a God.
Strictly speaking, it was actually a Goddess, or, rather, a talking reflection of herself that claimed to be a Goddess. It seemed insane, and might have been indicative of a stress-induced psychotic break from reality— at least, that's what Midna would say, Riju nodding right along beside her.
But they never found out, because Zelda forgot about it almost as soon as it happened.
She was busy sobbing into her hands, hoping that the splish-splash of the fountain would mask the sound of her heartbroken howls (it didn't) when she heard a soft voice.
"Why are you crying?"
She looked up, sniffling and snuffling and making all sorts of undignified noises. Tears were streaming down her cheeks as she craned her head left first, then right, looking for the source of the voice.
"I'm down here," the voice said. Zelda looked between her feet. Nothing. "Not in front of you, behind you. In the fountain."
Zelda turned around and looked down. Her reflection was looking up at her. Well, it was sort of her reflection, but also sort of not. For one, the Zelda-in-the-water was much older, and her face was distorted by (obviously) the ripples of the fountain. For two, the blonde hair was longer— much, much longer— and seemed to very nearly glow in the evening light. For three, her face was framed not by the striped sailor collar of a middle school uniform, but by a filmy white and unspeakably elegant gown. For four, her eyes were the pale blue of tundran ice, and were unspeakably old and kind. In fact, everything about the reflection radiated maturity, elegance, and gentleness.
That could be me, a little voice whispered in Zelda's mind. That could be me one day.
"Umm," Zelda said, looking at the reflection-that-wasn't-her. "Hi?"
"Hello," the reflection said with a soft, kind smile. "Tell me, little one. Why are you crying?"
Zelda scrubbed at the tears dripping down her cheeks.
"I… I told a boy I had a crush on him," Zelda said. More tears brimmed out of her burning eyes to drip down her cheeks. "I told him that… that I loved him, and he… he…"
The memory of it stung. The way he'd shook his head almost pityingly.
"I don't even know your name," he'd told her, sneering. "You're nobody. Just another silly girl who thinks she's in love with me." He'd pulled a face, then laughed. "As if someone like me could ever even notice someone like you! Do you know how many dumb nobody girls tell me they love me? Tons! Too many to count. I bet I won't even remember who you are tomorrow."
Zelda scrubbed her fists over her eyes again.
"He rejected me," she whispered, heartbroken, to the reflection. "He laughed at me and called me nobody. So I… so I ran."
The fountain was her favorite place in the city. It was tucked into one corner of a sweet neighborhood park that was frequented mostly by senior citizens trying to do their morning calisthenics, or young mothers with overactive children that needed to run loose. Zelda had fond memories of coming to this very park when she was little, remembered her mother pushing her on the swing, remembered playing elaborate games of make believe. During those games, Zelda's mother had always insisted— absolutely insisted— that this well was a wishing well, and that her dreams would come true if she made them while sitting on its stone lip.
But her mother had been wrong. Zelda had wished that Link would accept her love, and he hadn't.
"I wish I didn't care about him at all," Zelda blubbered now to the lady in the water. "I wish I could forget this whole awful day."
"Do not mourn," the reflection said. She smiled kindly. "All will be well, in time. Link is your soulmate."
Zelda sat straight upright in indignation at that.
"My soulmate? Who are you kidding, you crazy fountain lady? Link's awful. I hate him. I hate him!"
Her shriek startled a flock of birds from the nearby trees. She got herself under control, shaking her head a few times.
"Anyway, what do you know?" Zelda asked. "You're just a reflection. Just some dumb figment of my imagination."
She looked back down at the lady, but she was gone. Just her reflection— her usual reflection— gazed back at her, eyes red-rimmed and nose streaming.
Zelda wiped her sleeve across her face and stood. It was stupid. She was stupid, talking to a reflection, thinking that someone as handsome and popular as Link would notice a nobody like her.
So he was going to forget her? Who cared? Not Zelda. He was dead to her. She would forget him. Had already forgotten him, the useless jerk.
Setting her shoulders and nodding once, Zelda turned her back on the fountain and marched out of the park, unaware of the glowing, impossibly beautiful woman watching her from the cover of the trees, smiling softly.
"Each wish will be granted in time, my young one," the Goddess whispered to the figure of the retreating girl. She made an elegant gesture with a hand that was rapidly dissolving into pale light, and a few glowing motes drifted through the evening light to alight upon the girl's shoulder and vanish.
Fifteen years later
Midna burst into Zelda's apartment with her usual lack of decorum, Riju hot on her heels.
"Zelda! Wake up! Are you still in bed? Get up, lazy, that new cafe is finally open and you promised we'd go!"
"I'm not in bed," Zelda called from the kitchen. "And one of these days, I'm going to take away your house key if you keep bursting in without knocking."
"Whatever, if you did that, then who would feed Mia when you go on business trips? Oh, is that coffee? Good." Midna shoved into Zelda's tiny galley of a kitchen, grabbed a mug, and immediately helped herself to the rich, dark brew percolating in the french press.
Zelda was seated at her tiny dining table, sipping her coffee and shaking her head.
"Good morning, Riju," she said. "Did Midna scare you out of bed at the crack of dawn?"
Riju grimaced and nodded.
"You really should've taken up our offer to move in," Riju said. Her thick red hair was in its usual long braid, but looked a little rumpled. "If nothing else, you could shield me from her incessant pestering."
"Pah, I never pester," Midna said. She'd been rummaging in the fridge and now straightened up and glared at Zelda. "You don't have any milk. Why don't you have any milk?"
"Used the last of it in my own coffee," Zelda said, waggling her mug tauntingly at her friend.
"Well that was just rude," Midna said. "Didn't you know you'd have company? You're so inconsiderate." She sniffed theatrically, then hopped up to sit perched on the counter and nevertheless sipped her black coffee appreciatively. "Mmm. This is the good stuff. You don't scrimp on coffee."
"There are few things in life that can't be compromised upon," Zelda said, holding up a finger. "But quality coffee is one of them."
Zelda's remlit, Mia, poked her head into the kitchen. At the sight of Midna sitting on the counter, Mia flattened her large ears against her head, turned tail, and scampered.
Zelda drained her mug and stood, dusting off her skirt. It was a beautiful day, and she'd decided to wear her very favorite sundress: It was knee length, with tie-straps over the shoulders, and made of a lovely white sateen printed with silent princesses.
"Let's go, then," Zelda said, depositing her mug in the sink. Midna slurped up the rest of her own coffee, hopped down, and followed Zelda and Riju out of the kitchen. Zelda grabbed her purse and a large straw hat, then all three women put on their sandals— Riju's, flats, Zelda's, woven wedges, and Midna's, strappy and painful looking— and left Zelda's little one-bedroom apartment.
As she locked the door behind them, she took a deep, appreciative breath. The morning air was wonderful: it smelled a little like dew, a little like flowers, and a lot like the beginning of summer. Zelda tucked her key into her purse, grinning, and followed Midna and Riju down the walkway and down the stairs.
"Remind me why you're so excited about this bakery, Mids," Riju said, stretching. The sun glinted off her bronzed, muscled arms, which were shown off to their very best by a colorful sarong. (Midna, predictably, wore a tight black tank top over a teal bra and a pair of shorts so short that Zelda privately thought they likely barely even qualified as underwear.)
"I'm excited," Midna said with exaggerated patience as she slipped her sunglasses on, "because it's equidistant between our apartments, it never closes, and their pâtissier has won several awards for her French pastries. Do you know how hard it is to find decent pastries in this part of the city?"
"Yes," Zelda and Riju chorused with varying levels of amusement and resignation.
"If this doesn't live up to my expectations, I may never recover," Midna said with a dignified sniff.
A few minutes later, they'd made it to the cafe, which was festooned with streamers. A banner hung above the door that proudly read, "GRAND OPENING!" Zelda could see a crowd forming inside, though it was still quite early— not even eight, according to the delicate silver watch at her wrist.
"Come on, come on, come on," Midna said happily, pushing her way into the cafe.
It smelled like heaven.
Zelda and Midna got in line, which snaked throughout the bustling cafe. It sported a number of cute little tables, each covered in a bright, checkered table cloth, with a flower in the center. Couples, young families, and the elderly crowded around the tables, perched on dainty little seats. Faintly, above the hum and bustle of the crowd, Zelda could hear decidedly French music. She closed her eyes, smiling as she listened to the sweet, wistful lyrics:
On s'est connus au café des trois colombes,
Aux rendez-vous des amours sans abri.
On était bien, on se sentait seuls au monde,
On n'avait rien, mais on a vait toute la vie.
"Watch out! Augh!"
Zelda's eyes popped open as something scalding hot splashed down her decolletage.
"Gwaaaaah!" Zelda echoed, leaping backwards. But the damage was already done. Someone had tripped while carrying coffee, which had— of course— landed on Zelda.
Who was wearing her favorite dress.
"Oh, Goddess, I'm so sorry," said a man's voice. "I'm so— here, let me get a napkin, I'll be right back—"
Before Zelda could get a good look at the man, he'd turned tail and sped off.
"Of all the rotten luck," Riju said sympathetically while Midna sucked her teeth and winced. "That's your favorite dress."
"I know," Zelda said unhappily as coffee dripped down her front.
The man sped back, a wad of napkins in his grasp. He made to start sopping, then stopped, realizing it was Zelda's chest, and handed her the napkins.
"Here," he said. "Um, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I'll… pay for your dry cleaning bill."
"Don't worry about it," Zelda said wearily. She began to mop hopelessly at the stained, ruined silk. "Thanks for the offer, though…" She looked at the man, then stopped and really looked at him.
By all that was holy, he was handsome.
He wasn't especially tall, which Zelda liked, and he was well-built, which Zelda quite liked. He had a face made for smiling, with intelligent, bright blue eyes, and dusty blonde hair.
"I'm afraid I didn't get your name," he said. Part of Zelda— the small, vain part— proudly noticed that he was staring at her with just as much awe as she was staring at him.
"It's Zelda," she said. "Zelda Bosphoramus."
The man grinned. "My name is Link Forester." He looked her over again— not lewdly, but with equal parts appreciation and embarrassment. "I'm so, so sorry about the coffee. Can I take you out to dinner to make up for it?"
A date? He was asking her on a date after dumping hot coffee all over her?
Zelda opened her mouth to answer but— predictably— Midna cut in.
"Link Forester?" She repeated, incredulous. "You didn't happen to go to New Hylia Middle, did you?"
"I… yeah?" Link looked at Midna, confused. "Why?"
"Link Forester," Midna repeated darkly. "You're Link Forester."
"Yes?"
"Oh!" Riju popped the side of her fist into the palm of her other hand. "Zelda, this is the guy who shot you down in seventh grade. He called you, um…" Riju turned to Midna. "What was it, again?"
"A dumb nobody who wasn't even worth noticing, one of a faceless brigade of idiots to confess her love, someone he'd forget about the next day…" Midna, ever one to hold a grudge, recited Link's litany of cruelties. As she spoke, his face fell, and fell, and fell.
"I, uh…" He slumped, rubbing his hand along the back of his neck. "Yeah. That sounds like me. I was… pretty awful back then." He grimaced, then looked at Zelda.
He was giving her honest-to-Goddess puppy dog eyes, she realized.
"It seems I've got a lot more to make up for than just some spilled coffee," he said. "I'm really sorry. Really sorry. And I get it if you're not interested, but I really would like to take you to dinner. To apologize, and, um… reconnect?"
Zelda couldn't help it. Those puppy dog eyes were too damn effective.
"Everyone has something stupid that they're ashamed of in their past," Zelda said. "In your case, you were an asshole. But that's OK." She smiled. "Dinner sounds great."
Link perked up.
"I— wow— really? Thank you. I'm so sorry— you won't regret this— here, let me get your number—"
They swapped cell phone numbers, Midna and Riju looking on in disapproval and amusement, respectively.
"I'll text you," Link said. "And we'll get dinner."
"It's a date," Zelda agreed, unable to keep the laughter from her voice. "I'll look forward to it."
Link grinned, blushed, ducked his head, grinned again, and sped off. Zelda watched him go, then giggled a little as she turned back to Midna and Riju.
"That was surreal," she said. "Link Forester? I'd forgotten entirely about him." She laughed a little more in embarrassment now and palmed her face. "I had the hugest crush on him, didn't I?"
Midna snorted.
"I bet he hasn't changed a bit," she said. Then, more grandly, "Don't let him break your heart again, Zelda. If he does, I'll have to kill him."
"Oh, shush, she'll be fine," Riju said. "It seems like he's changed. And anyway, this time Zelda has the upper hand."
Zelda grinned.
"This time I do indeed," she said.
And feeling optimistic, even though her favorite dress had been ruined, she followed Midna and Riju the last few steps to the counter to order the requisite celebratory coffee, sweets, and pastries. For the first time, she realized what the name of the cafe was:
Sweet Beginnings
It was too perfect. It was too good. Zelda found herself grinning. Sweet beginnings indeed, she thought, feeling incandescent with joy.
Sweet beginnings indeed.
And there we have it. God, I've been writing all evening. I'm tired! Today was a doozy at work (I work from home) and my son is still a little sick (not the virus, don't worry) and my husband is also a little sick (allergies, not the virus, of which I have to remind him every five minutes) so it has been A Night. Hopefully I'll be able to get tomorrow's oneshot written and published in a more reasonable time frame tomorrow.
As a final note, the song in this fic comes from the peerless amazing wonderful beautiful CrazygurlMadness. It's Le Café des Trois Colombes, by Joe Dassin, and the translation of the lyrics (again, provided by my one and only soulmate, CM) is:
We met at the Three Doves Café
At the meeting spot for loves that have nowhere else to go
We felt good, we felt alone in the world
We had nothing, but we had our whole life ahead of us
And there we have it! Coming up tomorrow, for Guest, we'll have a sweet little slice of family life for Link and Zelda. Until then, stay safe, stay inside, and WASH YOUR HANDS! Air smoochies to all, and to all a good night.
