Chapter 6: Last Lullaby
A week later, Talon sat by Malon's bed, feeding her a bowl of cold soup–hot soup made her dizzy. He spent her every waking hour by her side and talked to her of anything that came to mind. She couldn't speak: she'd all but lost her voice since waking from unconsciousness that day. She spoke no more then a sentence or two a day, but Talon had no problem filling in her silence. They had a lot to catch up to, after all. And when he noticed her eyelids drooping or a yawn that she tried to hide, he'd be out the door in a flash to give her rest. "Sleep that fever away, love," he'd always say before he kissed her and departed.
Malon woke after one such rest to find her father slumped in his usual chair by her bed, snoring louder then thunder. She heaved one of the blankets covering her onto his person, sitting up a bit to wrap it around securely. The effort took up so much energy that it took a good five minutes to catch her breath.
Even though she had been confined to her bed (her real bed) until her fever went down, it was worth it to feel such peace and contentment. Talon was back at the ranch, and Ingo was gone. Her father didn't really understand why or how it had all happened, but he was sure it had something to do with "the young forest man" that had come to see him the day before he'd found Malon in the northwest forests of Hyrule.
"He was all hot and bothered, rushed in callin' fer me like a madman. Blurted out somethin' in an awful rush, an' I had to listen three times to understand, and even then all I knew was that the boy had driven Ingo away from the ranch when he'd come by and seen you weren't there. Begged me to go out an' look for ya, said he had somethin' else ta do that couldn't be waited for. Sort of reminded me of that young fairy fellow you used to play with... Anywho, if I ever find the lad again, I'll bless the air he breathes fer savin' me, you and the whole bloomin' ranch!"
Malon wondered what Link (for it could not have been anyone but him) had needed to attend to so badly. If he'd been so frantic to save her, surely nothing could be more important to him then finding her. The whole thing confused her, and though what he'd done for her and the ranch had proven that he did care for her, she could not understand why he was avoiding her. A reason floated to the surface of her reflections. He'd said he was the Hero of Time. Was it so hard to believe now?
Yes. Yes it was. She refused to believe it. And the more she thought about it, the more it seemed an excuse for his disappearance. It had been the last time she'd seen him. In any case, Link was no longer apart of her. She would continue her life as it was meant to be.
Talon had told her that Link had take Epona. She felt strangely glad of that. Epona liked Link, and she would have a much better life with him that cooped up in Lon Lon Ranch anyway. Now that her father was back, she didn't need to talk to her anymore.
Malon snuggled deeper into the covers. Life was wonderful. She was going to get the life she'd always dreamed of after all: living on the ranch with her father and the animals. Perhaps she'd find a husband someday. Perhaps Link would return? No! She wouldn't think of him.
The room swayed about her, and she shut her eyes tight and clenched her teeth, trying to still her heaving stomach. This was happening more and more often of late. It was less the room that swayed and more her head. She still had hot and cold spells, and though her muscles no longer ached, there was a soreness behind her eyes that hadn't been there before, and her head always felt like it would burst. She rubbed at her eyes, as though to wipe away the pain behind them. This fever only seemed to be getting worse.
How could someone speak so calmly after losing someone so dear to them? How could they stop crying when they knew that they'd never see someone again? Talon sat by Malon's side, as he had done for two weeks since their reunion. Only now, her eyes were closed forever more. Her chest did not rise and fall. Her skin had no warmth. Her spirit had no life.
Her coffin was closed, but the lid was of glass, so people come to pay their respects could still see her. But that wasn't really Malon. The real Malon was young woman full of love and life, with bright blue eyes and sunny red hair. This, this wasn't her. This was a dead shell without colour. Her skin was pale, her hair was faded. The real Malon was gone.
He'd stopped crying now, which was a miracle. Tears had been streaming from his eyes as soon as he realized he was losing her, that her health was only getting worse with each passing hour. He'd tried vainly to save her. But he'd known it was too late. To watch your daughter die in your arms with a feel of unimaginable powerlessness and sorrow was undoubtedly the most terrible feeling on earth. He had sobbed through her last hour of life, holding her close to him as she told him not to worry, when she was the one that was leaving her life behind.
Thank the gods he at least had had a chance to see her one last time. He had gotten the chance to see the lovely young woman she'd become. They had given him that much, and he was thankful.
A steady stream of sympathisers came from Lon Lon Ranch's gateway. The coffin stood outside in the bright sunshine, where Malon had loved to sit and sing her mother's song. The horses were in the paddock, and the chickens and cows still in the barn. Malon had always loved horses best.
Presently, there came a thudding of hooves on the dirt path, and Epona trotted through the iron gates, ridden by a handsome young man with gold hair and wearing a green tunic and a sword and shield strapped to his back, followed by a fairy. His eyes were fixed to Malon's coffin, even when he dismounted and began walking up the line of people.
Talon jumped to his feet and almost ran to greet him. It was the boy that had told him of his daughter's predicament, the one that had reunited them once more. Had the young man asked, he would have grovelled at his feet. But the fellow brushed past without a glance, and came to stand beside Malon and stare through the glass lid at her face. A stone would have envied the blankness of his face.
A murmur rippled through the small crowd of mourners. Who was he, they asked. Why didn't he wait in line, they wondered. But no one twitched a hand in his direction except Talon, not with that dangerous look in his bluer-then-the-sky eyes. The big rancher approached to stand beside him, and didn't seem to care at all that he was totally ignored.
A tear trickled down the young man's face, but he noticed it no more then he did anything else. He gazed down at a Malon's face as though it were the only real thing left to look upon. He reached a hand out, undoubtedly to touch her red-gold hair that streamed out under her head like thousands of tiny ribbons, but it was stopped by the glass around the coffin. He made no attempt to remove it.
As the silence grew at the ranch-a silence that was only occasionally broken by the whinny of a horse-people began to fidget uncomfortably. The boy did not look ready to move, and no one wanted to go near him. After an eternity of waiting, a change occurred in his stance.
From his pack he took a blue ocarina beautifully shaped and crafted, with the crest of the Royal Family carved into its centre. It produced a soft, sweet sound when he brought it, and the song he played was a happy tune, making it contrast with the sombre looks on everyone's faces. Talon stared. It was the same song his late wife had sung to Malon over her cradle every night. This boy, whoever he was and whatever connection he had with his daughter, would remain in his heart forever. He had played for Malon her last lullaby.
A week later, Talon sat by Malon's bed, feeding her a bowl of cold soup–hot soup made her dizzy. He spent her every waking hour by her side and talked to her of anything that came to mind. She couldn't speak: she'd all but lost her voice since waking from unconsciousness that day. She spoke no more then a sentence or two a day, but Talon had no problem filling in her silence. They had a lot to catch up to, after all. And when he noticed her eyelids drooping or a yawn that she tried to hide, he'd be out the door in a flash to give her rest. "Sleep that fever away, love," he'd always say before he kissed her and departed.
Malon woke after one such rest to find her father slumped in his usual chair by her bed, snoring louder then thunder. She heaved one of the blankets covering her onto his person, sitting up a bit to wrap it around securely. The effort took up so much energy that it took a good five minutes to catch her breath.
Even though she had been confined to her bed (her real bed) until her fever went down, it was worth it to feel such peace and contentment. Talon was back at the ranch, and Ingo was gone. Her father didn't really understand why or how it had all happened, but he was sure it had something to do with "the young forest man" that had come to see him the day before he'd found Malon in the northwest forests of Hyrule.
"He was all hot and bothered, rushed in callin' fer me like a madman. Blurted out somethin' in an awful rush, an' I had to listen three times to understand, and even then all I knew was that the boy had driven Ingo away from the ranch when he'd come by and seen you weren't there. Begged me to go out an' look for ya, said he had somethin' else ta do that couldn't be waited for. Sort of reminded me of that young fairy fellow you used to play with... Anywho, if I ever find the lad again, I'll bless the air he breathes fer savin' me, you and the whole bloomin' ranch!"
Malon wondered what Link (for it could not have been anyone but him) had needed to attend to so badly. If he'd been so frantic to save her, surely nothing could be more important to him then finding her. The whole thing confused her, and though what he'd done for her and the ranch had proven that he did care for her, she could not understand why he was avoiding her. A reason floated to the surface of her reflections. He'd said he was the Hero of Time. Was it so hard to believe now?
Yes. Yes it was. She refused to believe it. And the more she thought about it, the more it seemed an excuse for his disappearance. It had been the last time she'd seen him. In any case, Link was no longer apart of her. She would continue her life as it was meant to be.
Talon had told her that Link had take Epona. She felt strangely glad of that. Epona liked Link, and she would have a much better life with him that cooped up in Lon Lon Ranch anyway. Now that her father was back, she didn't need to talk to her anymore.
Malon snuggled deeper into the covers. Life was wonderful. She was going to get the life she'd always dreamed of after all: living on the ranch with her father and the animals. Perhaps she'd find a husband someday. Perhaps Link would return? No! She wouldn't think of him.
The room swayed about her, and she shut her eyes tight and clenched her teeth, trying to still her heaving stomach. This was happening more and more often of late. It was less the room that swayed and more her head. She still had hot and cold spells, and though her muscles no longer ached, there was a soreness behind her eyes that hadn't been there before, and her head always felt like it would burst. She rubbed at her eyes, as though to wipe away the pain behind them. This fever only seemed to be getting worse.
How could someone speak so calmly after losing someone so dear to them? How could they stop crying when they knew that they'd never see someone again? Talon sat by Malon's side, as he had done for two weeks since their reunion. Only now, her eyes were closed forever more. Her chest did not rise and fall. Her skin had no warmth. Her spirit had no life.
Her coffin was closed, but the lid was of glass, so people come to pay their respects could still see her. But that wasn't really Malon. The real Malon was young woman full of love and life, with bright blue eyes and sunny red hair. This, this wasn't her. This was a dead shell without colour. Her skin was pale, her hair was faded. The real Malon was gone.
He'd stopped crying now, which was a miracle. Tears had been streaming from his eyes as soon as he realized he was losing her, that her health was only getting worse with each passing hour. He'd tried vainly to save her. But he'd known it was too late. To watch your daughter die in your arms with a feel of unimaginable powerlessness and sorrow was undoubtedly the most terrible feeling on earth. He had sobbed through her last hour of life, holding her close to him as she told him not to worry, when she was the one that was leaving her life behind.
Thank the gods he at least had had a chance to see her one last time. He had gotten the chance to see the lovely young woman she'd become. They had given him that much, and he was thankful.
A steady stream of sympathisers came from Lon Lon Ranch's gateway. The coffin stood outside in the bright sunshine, where Malon had loved to sit and sing her mother's song. The horses were in the paddock, and the chickens and cows still in the barn. Malon had always loved horses best.
Presently, there came a thudding of hooves on the dirt path, and Epona trotted through the iron gates, ridden by a handsome young man with gold hair and wearing a green tunic and a sword and shield strapped to his back, followed by a fairy. His eyes were fixed to Malon's coffin, even when he dismounted and began walking up the line of people.
Talon jumped to his feet and almost ran to greet him. It was the boy that had told him of his daughter's predicament, the one that had reunited them once more. Had the young man asked, he would have grovelled at his feet. But the fellow brushed past without a glance, and came to stand beside Malon and stare through the glass lid at her face. A stone would have envied the blankness of his face.
A murmur rippled through the small crowd of mourners. Who was he, they asked. Why didn't he wait in line, they wondered. But no one twitched a hand in his direction except Talon, not with that dangerous look in his bluer-then-the-sky eyes. The big rancher approached to stand beside him, and didn't seem to care at all that he was totally ignored.
A tear trickled down the young man's face, but he noticed it no more then he did anything else. He gazed down at a Malon's face as though it were the only real thing left to look upon. He reached a hand out, undoubtedly to touch her red-gold hair that streamed out under her head like thousands of tiny ribbons, but it was stopped by the glass around the coffin. He made no attempt to remove it.
As the silence grew at the ranch-a silence that was only occasionally broken by the whinny of a horse-people began to fidget uncomfortably. The boy did not look ready to move, and no one wanted to go near him. After an eternity of waiting, a change occurred in his stance.
From his pack he took a blue ocarina beautifully shaped and crafted, with the crest of the Royal Family carved into its centre. It produced a soft, sweet sound when he brought it, and the song he played was a happy tune, making it contrast with the sombre looks on everyone's faces. Talon stared. It was the same song his late wife had sung to Malon over her cradle every night. This boy, whoever he was and whatever connection he had with his daughter, would remain in his heart forever. He had played for Malon her last lullaby.