A/N Hi guys! I should've started typing earlier. Oh well. Today is Thursday and I'm just starting this now. Oops. Well, hopefully I'll be able to finish this by tonight.
I got a new device to work on! If I can focus enough then I should be able to write a lot more. That also means my writing program is better (FINALLY). Then again, getting used to it has been a challenge. (Of course it has, I only got it yesterday). Typing feels so slow now though. I'll get used to it at least.
I hope you enjoy this chapter! If you follow Restless Spirits, I'll be updating that soon as well.
Chapter 3
With the village awakening and work to be done, Rusl realized he couldn't stay in his home forever. He had things to do. The first of which being Link's obvious need for new clothes. Getting clothes for him wouldn't actually be that difficult. Fado was much larger than the fragile little boy in the swordsman's house. A growing child was bound to have clothes that no longer fit. Hopefully the family would be willing to part with them.
Leaving his house proved to be harder than he thought. With his wife and the child still asleep, hesitancy marred his steps.
Luck must have been on his side. At the sound of the resounding creak of old hinges, Uli woke. Her soft, relaxed hands rubbed her eyes as she sat up. Spotting her husband by the open door, her movements ceased.
"Where are you going?"
A whining creak echoed softly through the otherwise silent home as Rusl shut the door. "I figured I could get him some clothes." As he mentioned Link, he nodded toward the little mound under the covers.
Uli's eyes widened briefly before she recalled the night before. That poor little darling. She nodded in acknowledgement at what Rusl said, sitting up some more while lost in thought. The boy really did need better clothes. While the fabric appeared to have been good quality, it no longer was. Just a glance was suffice to see the damage. Holes riddled it and any colour besides muddy brown was faded. After they got better clothes, Uli would be able to see if any of it was salvageable. Another glance told her it would work better as rags than clothing.
Rusl noticed his wife's distant look. She was very gentle and caring, that he knew. Barely married a couple months ago and a child falls in their laps. He would think that she was overwhelmed, but that didn't seem like her.
"Uli," her name felt sweet on his tongue as always, "I know this may be a bit much to ask, but would you mind keeping an eye on Link? He tried to run earlier this morning. Oh, and he's already eaten breakfast so please don't feed him too much if he wakes up."
A polite nod and smile was her response. It almost went unheeded as something else prowled his mind. That felt…odd. Concern had slipped into his tone. Such concern brought up memories of his own father, or of Bo interacting with Ilia. Natural concern, yes. That's what it felt like. For the time being, he shrugged it off, setting it aside to observe later. At the moment he needed to finish his task. His eyes flicked toward the boy once again as he opened the door. That Hylian needed his help, and he was going to give it willingly.
Stepping back out into the fresh air was a relief. Scents of wildflowers, grass, and wet dust fluttered to him. Taking deep breaths felt as though each inhale was tangible, the smells and air so wholesome. Walking towards the ranch on the hill did not weaken those smells. The only change being the musty, acrid scent of goats. Dust billowed out from under his feet in little sand storms. Greens decorated the sides of the path, bright or pale, flowered or not. Within the sky, serpentine-like tendrils of blue writhed in layers above his head. So many different stimuli at once. Senses wild. Goddesses, he loved it. Reaching his destination almost felt disappointing. That is, until he remembered why he was there. Scarcely familiar care and concern floated back, lighting upon his mind as a butterfly, delicate. Fleeting.
He approached the small shack near the barn. Rusl was aware that the family that lived there already had very little. Asking for something precious such as clothing could very well be too much. Yet, he was fully prepared to pay for them. Even if they didn't need it, he was willing to. That thought strengthened as he rapped upon the door, splinters piercing his knuckles. They stung, but he would deal with them later.
Just as he drew his hand back from the door, the sounds of groaning hinges met his ears. A small, rounded face peered through the opening. Curious eyes peered at him.
"Hello Fado. Are your parents up?"
Groaning hinges swung shut. He guessed they probably weren't awake yet then. Leaving seemed like a good plan, until the door opened again. A very scruffy and worn woman stood where Fado had before.
"Oh! Good morning Rusl, what brings you here?" her inquiry was chirpy despite how gruff and powerful she appeared.
"It's a bit of a long story, but I do have a request. Do you, by chance, have any clothes that don't fit your son anymore?" compared to her bright voice, his was gravelly and hesitant, "I will pay whatever you need for them. I have the money." He added as an afterthought.
She paused, a thoughtful look on her face.
"Hmm… I turned most of them into a quilt, but I may have a few laying around." With that, she dismissed herself and entered her humble home.
It took awhile for her to return. He didn't mind waiting outside. It was doubtful that there would even be enough room for another person in such a small place. So, he was patient. Several minutes passed before the door opened again. A triumphant smile rested on her face, 2 pairs of old and worn clothes resting on her arm. In her hands were grasped 4 holey boots, thankfully repairable.
A large, grateful smile decorated his own face. "Thank you so much," Rusl pulled a few rupees from his wallet, "Here, I hope this is enough"
The herdswoman smiled and shook her head politely. "You don't need to pay me Rusl, I have all that I need."
His protests and insistence on payment went unheeded. Once she finally got him to be silent, she bid him goodbye and closed the door, leaving Rusl in the cool morning air. His jaw slack and rupees loose in his palm. Reluctantly, he turned his feet back down the path.
As he neared his home with clothes in hand, he spotted Uli by the creek next to their house. Concern rippled through him again. Surely she should've been inside watching over Link, not outside washing platters and cups. Such concern was dampened. It was an exaggerated emotion, amplified by an odd sense of protection.
Approaching his home, his wife turned towards him.
"Don't worry sweetie, I've been keeping an eye on the door. He isn't even awake yet."
Thanking her briefly, he opened the door quietly. Unusual quietude met him instead of the typical creaks and groans. Then, he heard it. They were gentle. Muffled. So tiny and full of fright and sadness. The very sounds themselves appeared to be hiding, just as their creator was. Hiding beneath the covers of the bed. Not quite sobs, not quite sniffles, but more than simple tears. Such…pain. Rusl found himself stunned, standing within the pillars of light streaming into the door. Weight in each shallow, shuddering inhale surpassed the soft sounds of tears pattering onto rough fabric.
The Hylian had woken up. Alone. In an unfamiliar place, wounded and scared. Rusl had left him there. By himself. Guilt. Regret. Trauma already marked the boy's path. He needed support and care, the experience at Bo's proved that much. Closing the door finally caught Link's attention. Sniffles ceased, the lump under the covers left unmoving.
More soft creaks accompanied each one of Rusl's steps. Short distance covered in few strides. He was uncertain of what to do, his hand hovering over the hiding boy. He cared, but perhaps…not enough. Not enough to know what to do. Still, he tried. He placed a hand on the trembling back, tense under his touch.
At the disturbance, Link poked his head out from under the piles of fabric, tear-made trenches in the dirt on the gaunt cheeks. That was another thing they would have to take care of, he required a bath almost as much as comfort. Upon seeing Rusl, that frightened little boy shied away, just an inch. A miniscule bit. Other than that he didn't move. Timid, flitting eyes scanned the man. Within them something akin to trust drifted, an incandescent spark from a flame that had yet to grow larger. The boy leaned into his touch after that, allowing and even welcoming the following embrace.
Uli found them like that, some time later. She dared not disturb them, silent tears were flowing from the Hylian and her husband looked so tranquil and caring. The hard soldier he had once been left behind, memories and hauntings in the past. Having left the clean platters and cups on the table, she left the house as quietly as she could.
Minutes passed. Tear wells nearly exhausted, emotions worn thin, Link let go and Rusl did as well. Tenderly.
A mumble came from the younger. At first Rusl thought he imagined it, having only heard the hoarse and unused voice the first time he met him. The moment it took for him to process the single word, he found that he recognized it. Simple and clear. A cognate, similar in old and new Hylian. It meant what it sounded like. 'Stolen'. His mind turned over and over as Link kept his head bowed and unmoving. What did the word 'Stolen' have to do with this boy? Confused, he carefully asked the Hylian what he meant.
"What do you mean? What's been stolen?" he kept his tone hushed and gentle, hoping the boy would try to speak again.
A drawn out pause followed his question. Link kept looking around, but not lifting his head at all, just moving his eyes. Then, he pointed. Not at anything particular at first, another moment passed before he moved his hand again. He was pointing at his ragged clothes? No, Rusl realized the child was pointing at himself.
That brought on more confusion.
"What? I don't understand."
Again the hand pointed towards the boy sitting on the in bed with him.
"I'm sorry, I don't get what you mean. Are you saying you have stolen?" Rusl truly did not know what the other meant, it was beyond him.
A sharp, frustrated head shake was the response to the swordsman's question. For the third time, the Hylian pointed towards himself, frustration showing through.
Finally, he got it. "Wait, are you saying that you were stolen?"
Relief at being understood was dampened by a rush of resignation. A kind only spotted in those who realize their fate is sealed. Rusl watched Link nod once, eyes dark again, sullen thoughts could almost be seen drifting through the blue. Drifting like ominous storm clouds on a once clear and shining night sky. Stars of hope drowned out, the moonlight of life hidden behind layer upon layer of fat clouds. Clouds ready to release themselves from the heavens. To pour down upon those unfortunate enough to be out in the world. And they did. Those dark clouds were determined to squeeze every last drop out. Even with Rusl attempting to comfort the boy, the tears kept rolling. Claps of thunder were instead replaced by hiccups. Fierce winds the shuddering breaths of a suffering youth.
There was no rainbow after the storm. No bright light of the sun. Just the moonlight of sputtering trust, peeking through the clouds. It stayed, even as the exhausted Hylian boy laid his head to rest once again. Building trust for that strange man. Building even in sleep.
A calm in the storm. A ray in the pain. Solace. Comfort. That's what Link needed. That's what Rusl was willing to give.
A/N Oops, updating the night after I promised this chapter. Sorry. Hope you enjoyed it though, RS chapter 13 will hopefully be up by tonight. This new device is hard to get used to. I also got a new charger for my tablet so that's good. I'll see you next Chapter! Bye! ( i really really gtg to bed, I am so sorry Gailux. I'm not used to having a beta, otherwise I would've planned better. Next time I'll be able to send it to you. Rn I really gotta sleep) Good night everyone!