A/N: This is the first LoZ fic I ever wrote seriously. It actually was started about three years ago and has been finished on and off after having survived through three hiatuses and a serious consideration of scrapping. But I decided to give it another chance, and am actually quite pleased with the results. Rated PG-13 for violence and Link's surprisingly dirty mouth; warnings include angst, sadness, violence, Link/Zelda pairing (no citrus), and alternate realities. The timeline I'm basing things on is a quasi-alternate-reality of my own creation: I base most if not all of my Zelda fanfiction on the idea that all the deeds done and chronicled in the Zelda games (with the exception of the Wind Waker for obvious reasons) were the deeds of one brave young lad chosen by Destiny and the three Goddesses as the Hero of Time, the Legendary Hero. Oh. And I don't own Linky (more's the pity) or Zelda or any of the game's other characters. They are copyrighted to Miyamoto Shigeru-san and Nintendo, the lucky bastards. I own, however, sole copyright of each and every one of my original characters. Steal them and I will hunt you down and break your elbows. Remember: A vague threat is no one's friend. And also, this act is where things kind of get silly. Just keep in mind that most o the time while I was writing this I was in high school and that I've improved dramatically since almost four years ago, AND I had no idea what I was doing when I did start it. So if it seems a little far-fetched...deal with it. xp
-Act II-
-Dimensional Refugees-
13
Fifteen minutes later, Kate burst in the door, her expression harried and anxious. "What's the problem?" Link asked, looking up at her from his position on the couch.
She grimaced. "I have good news and bad news."
"What's the bad news?" John called from down the hallway.
"We're not leaving tonight."
"What?!" Link cried.
John came out of the bedroom to stare at Kate incredulously. "What's the good news?"
"The police aren't here yet," she said blandly. "We're leaving, now. If you value your freedom, we need to go."
"That bad, huh?" he laughed. "All right. Let's go. You got your stuff?" he asked the Hero of Time.
Link merely nodded.
"We'll take my car. With any luck, it'll throw them off long enough for us to get to Pier 39."
"Not for the first time," Kate said, "I'm really, really glad you live right on the shoreline, John."
"Me too."
The classic, 1965 Mustang sped down the highway, the metallic hunter green reflecting in the noonday sun.
John was pushing the envelope of the San Francisco speed limits, weaving in and out of traffic, passing closer than was really safe. More than a few irritable drivers honked, cursed, and gestured as John unfortunately cut them off. Kate spent a large part of the drive with her head in her hands, rubbing the bridge of her nose wearily. "We need a big sign that says 'We're sorry our driving bites, but it's really important for us to be ahead of you,'" she sighed wearily over the rushing wind. The convertible, John's pet, a restorative project that had taken him almost three years, was not the most nondescript car they could have chosen, but with Kate's Sonata having been identified by the authorities, it was imperative that they choose a new transport.
John sighed. "I'm going to miss this car," he said mournfully, thinking about their future journey into a different world.
"John?" Kate said.
"Yeah?"
"Dry up."
"Sorry," he replied.
John put on the brakes, pulling his speed back down to the limit as three San Francisco Police Department units came racing past them-heading the opposite direction. Kate watched them pass in amazement, her mouth hanging open. Her mouth twitched, and she laughed. "Beautiful," she cried between giggles. "Absolutely perfect."
"That gives us a little bit of an advantage," John said. "Let's not waste it," he said, pushing the gas pedal to the floor. Link, knowing he was in for another bout of creative driving, closed his eyes, gripped the door handle, and said a quick prayer to the Goddesses that he'd live through it.
The Mustang screeched to a halt in a small parking lot in front of Pier 39. The police had not yet shown up, but sirens could be heard in the distance. The trio knew there was no time to waste. Link leapt from the car, pulling a green leather pouch and the Book of Mudora from his duffle bag. He opened the book to the right spot and set it down on the dock. Looking closely at one page, he took the pouch, and drew an odd triangular shape on the pier in green powder. Kate watched, fascinated, noticing in the back of her mind that the shape on the ground was the same shape as the mark on the back of his hand. Link reached into the bag once more and pulled out a long, silver rod with a large, smoothly rounded blue stone set in the tip. He settled it across his right arm, closed his eyes, and said three words in a language Kate had never heard before. A blue beam shot from the tip of the rod, and the powder ignited.
Flames of vivid azure flared up around him, creating a flaming chamber all around the Hylian. Gazing through them at the book, he began to speak in the same, strange tongue, occasionally pausing to look down at the book.
Screeching tires in the middle of Link's spell announced the presence of the SFPD. The doors of the vehicles opened, and six officers suddenly all had guns pointed at the trio, who stood there with hands up, trying to prove their current harmless state. "Cease your operations," one female officer cried through a bullhorn at Link, who did not look up.
"I think she means you, kid," John called. "You done yet?"
"Almost," he replied.
"Put your hands in the air and prepare to be apprehended," the officer called.
"They already are," Kate said irritably. "Look, if you'll just be freaking patient, we'll be out of your hair permanently, and you won't have to worry about us anymore."
"I can't do that," the officer said with a quick shake of the head.
"Half a minute," Kate pled.
"I'm sorry," the officer stated firmly.
"Got it! Go, now!" Link barked. The flames, once about six feet tall, were burning down to the ground, wisps of white smoke curling as they died out. Behind Link was a shimmering circle in the air, like the iridescent hue of a bubble, laid out flat, or oil on the surface of the water, a multi-colored sheen that rippled with each gust and breeze. "Kate, go!"
She reached down and picked up the long, narrow box that held Link's broadsword in it and took a step toward the portal.
A shot rang out.
A bullet ricocheted off the dock inches away from her left foot. Her head whipped around and Kate stared in shock at the police. The moment froze.
"Kate, move!" Link roared, and everything unstuck.
More bullets started to fly as gunfire broke out. Kate's eyes widened in horror, and she raced for the portal, not even pausing to grab her bag before she dove headfirst through the shimmering wall.
John was right behind her, dodging bullets and running as fast as he could. He followed Kate through the portal, and it rippled with his passing.
Link watched the gunfire calmly for a moment, all started by one overzealous rookie with an itchy trigger finger and a little too much initiative. He bent down, stowed the Book of Mudora back in the duffle, and stood up again, the backpack and duffle slung over one shoulder and a box under each arm. He turned away from the startled policemen, and without flinching, walked slowly through the portal.
It collapsed behind him.
-Act II-
-Dimensional Refugees-
13
Fifteen minutes later, Kate burst in the door, her expression harried and anxious. "What's the problem?" Link asked, looking up at her from his position on the couch.
She grimaced. "I have good news and bad news."
"What's the bad news?" John called from down the hallway.
"We're not leaving tonight."
"What?!" Link cried.
John came out of the bedroom to stare at Kate incredulously. "What's the good news?"
"The police aren't here yet," she said blandly. "We're leaving, now. If you value your freedom, we need to go."
"That bad, huh?" he laughed. "All right. Let's go. You got your stuff?" he asked the Hero of Time.
Link merely nodded.
"We'll take my car. With any luck, it'll throw them off long enough for us to get to Pier 39."
"Not for the first time," Kate said, "I'm really, really glad you live right on the shoreline, John."
"Me too."
The classic, 1965 Mustang sped down the highway, the metallic hunter green reflecting in the noonday sun.
John was pushing the envelope of the San Francisco speed limits, weaving in and out of traffic, passing closer than was really safe. More than a few irritable drivers honked, cursed, and gestured as John unfortunately cut them off. Kate spent a large part of the drive with her head in her hands, rubbing the bridge of her nose wearily. "We need a big sign that says 'We're sorry our driving bites, but it's really important for us to be ahead of you,'" she sighed wearily over the rushing wind. The convertible, John's pet, a restorative project that had taken him almost three years, was not the most nondescript car they could have chosen, but with Kate's Sonata having been identified by the authorities, it was imperative that they choose a new transport.
John sighed. "I'm going to miss this car," he said mournfully, thinking about their future journey into a different world.
"John?" Kate said.
"Yeah?"
"Dry up."
"Sorry," he replied.
John put on the brakes, pulling his speed back down to the limit as three San Francisco Police Department units came racing past them-heading the opposite direction. Kate watched them pass in amazement, her mouth hanging open. Her mouth twitched, and she laughed. "Beautiful," she cried between giggles. "Absolutely perfect."
"That gives us a little bit of an advantage," John said. "Let's not waste it," he said, pushing the gas pedal to the floor. Link, knowing he was in for another bout of creative driving, closed his eyes, gripped the door handle, and said a quick prayer to the Goddesses that he'd live through it.
The Mustang screeched to a halt in a small parking lot in front of Pier 39. The police had not yet shown up, but sirens could be heard in the distance. The trio knew there was no time to waste. Link leapt from the car, pulling a green leather pouch and the Book of Mudora from his duffle bag. He opened the book to the right spot and set it down on the dock. Looking closely at one page, he took the pouch, and drew an odd triangular shape on the pier in green powder. Kate watched, fascinated, noticing in the back of her mind that the shape on the ground was the same shape as the mark on the back of his hand. Link reached into the bag once more and pulled out a long, silver rod with a large, smoothly rounded blue stone set in the tip. He settled it across his right arm, closed his eyes, and said three words in a language Kate had never heard before. A blue beam shot from the tip of the rod, and the powder ignited.
Flames of vivid azure flared up around him, creating a flaming chamber all around the Hylian. Gazing through them at the book, he began to speak in the same, strange tongue, occasionally pausing to look down at the book.
Screeching tires in the middle of Link's spell announced the presence of the SFPD. The doors of the vehicles opened, and six officers suddenly all had guns pointed at the trio, who stood there with hands up, trying to prove their current harmless state. "Cease your operations," one female officer cried through a bullhorn at Link, who did not look up.
"I think she means you, kid," John called. "You done yet?"
"Almost," he replied.
"Put your hands in the air and prepare to be apprehended," the officer called.
"They already are," Kate said irritably. "Look, if you'll just be freaking patient, we'll be out of your hair permanently, and you won't have to worry about us anymore."
"I can't do that," the officer said with a quick shake of the head.
"Half a minute," Kate pled.
"I'm sorry," the officer stated firmly.
"Got it! Go, now!" Link barked. The flames, once about six feet tall, were burning down to the ground, wisps of white smoke curling as they died out. Behind Link was a shimmering circle in the air, like the iridescent hue of a bubble, laid out flat, or oil on the surface of the water, a multi-colored sheen that rippled with each gust and breeze. "Kate, go!"
She reached down and picked up the long, narrow box that held Link's broadsword in it and took a step toward the portal.
A shot rang out.
A bullet ricocheted off the dock inches away from her left foot. Her head whipped around and Kate stared in shock at the police. The moment froze.
"Kate, move!" Link roared, and everything unstuck.
More bullets started to fly as gunfire broke out. Kate's eyes widened in horror, and she raced for the portal, not even pausing to grab her bag before she dove headfirst through the shimmering wall.
John was right behind her, dodging bullets and running as fast as he could. He followed Kate through the portal, and it rippled with his passing.
Link watched the gunfire calmly for a moment, all started by one overzealous rookie with an itchy trigger finger and a little too much initiative. He bent down, stowed the Book of Mudora back in the duffle, and stood up again, the backpack and duffle slung over one shoulder and a box under each arm. He turned away from the startled policemen, and without flinching, walked slowly through the portal.
It collapsed behind him.