The boy fell back into the grass, his arms stretched out on either side of him. He breathed heavily through his grinning mouth, trying to catch his breath after the effort of his pantomime. The single little girl in his audience, however, was unimpressed.

"You did not." She scoffed, crossing her arms. He shifted up his his elbows, his eyes and hair wild.

"Did too."

"Did not!"

"Did too!" he stood at this final proclamation and began walking away. Malon rose, arm outstretched to stop him, but realized he was just walking to his bag. He reached into the worn leather and pulled out a small bundle. He cradled it next to his chest as he made his way back to her.

"If I didn't, how did I get this?" He said triumphantly, transferring the bundle to her arms. She bowed under the unexpected weight and sat on the grass. Casting a quick glance at Link, she pulled the cloth covering off.

It was… how could she describe it? Three flawless sapphires, the size of apples, connected with intricate gold filigree. The sun glinted off the stones like they were tiny oceans. She ran her thumb over the smooth gold, her eyes lost in the beauty of it.

"Link. what is this?"

"The Spiritual Stone of Water." He said proudly, then returned to his bag with two other bundles. He poured them onto the grass with painful casualty and her eyes widened. a single emerald the size of her head with a swirling gold loop cradling it, and an equally large ruby nestled in gold like a tulip, or a flame.

"How did you get these?"

"I've already told you." The boy said, "I can't help it if you don't believe me."

"That's all so impossible Fairy Boy. Giant scorpions? Enormous jellyfish inside bigger fish?"

"It's all true, Malon." Link said. "I'm on a mission from Princess Zelda. I'm going to save the world. I've already gotten these, now I just need to return them to her."

Malon felt a strange pang in her chest at this. Link was her friend, but he was devoted to the Princess in a way she couldn't understand. She had a feeling it had something to do with what adults called one's 'duty,' but Malon was selfish and wanted Link to have a duty only to her.

"Are you leaving again?" She asked.

"I have to." He said, sliding the gems back into their protective sacks and returning them to his bag,"I promised."

"But I don't want you to go yet." She said, pulling her knees to her chest and wrapping her arms around them, "I'm always lonely here, I don't have any other friends."

Link stared at his friend for a moment, then smiled and reached out a hand. He ruffled her hair and grinned broadly.

"I'll never leave forever. I'll always come back for you."

"Do you swear?"

"I swear. You need to see the rest of the world. You can't stay stuck at this ranch all the time."

"I'll be waiting, Fairy Boy." Malon said.

"I swear." Link said, slinging the bag over his shoulder, "I'll be back soon."

It would be seven years before she saw him again.

Malon reached up a hand to wipe the sweat from her forehead. She tossed her head back, face toward the sun beating down on them, remembering the rain from all those months ago and wishing for cloud cover. She returned her gaze out in front of her, at the workers who were buzzing around Kakariko like bees.

The reconstruction was almost finished. The roof and one wall of Impa's house had to be torn down, but now the village was full of the smell of new wood and the workers were finishing the last of the shingles. A few other houses had some damage, but none as badly as Impa's house. The shooting gallery had to be re-roofed, the chicken hutch needed replaced, and the last of the new windmill blades was being placed tomorrow.

Malon leaned back and looked in her stock crate. Five milk bottles remained, out of the thirty she had brought this morning. Even selling at a quarter the value, she was making a decent profit. Not that she had wanted to profit from this, but Talon pointed out that some people were more than willing to pay, and she was at liberty to freely give to the needy. She looked around, then picked one up and popped open the top. As a child, Talon hadn't allowed her to sample the wares, but he probably knew that uninhibited, she probably would have lived off of LonLon Milk.

A bell rang out in Kakariko and the workers let out a whoop before packing up their things. The workday was done, the workers would go to their homes and be with their families, and Malon would pack up the four bottles that were left and go back to the ranch. She cast a glance at the other peddlers around her, one man selling a red liquid that looked like what Link had given her, but carried none of the potency, and another selling fish he claimed were from the restored Lake Hylia. She shook her head and hefted her crate. She would not return the next day.

Epona was tied to the tree at the base of the Kakariko Steps, staring out into the field the way she tended to do. Malon had found her in that exact spot after Link's disappearance, tied to the same tree in the same manner, staring out into the field. When she had tried to release Epona and take her home, the horse had flatly protested, whinnying and kicking as Malon had never seen her do before. After a few weeks, the horse stopped kicking, and after a month had allowed Malon to lead her home.

It had taken another three weeks in Malon's ranch before Epona seemed to give up on Link, throwing the equine into a depression that mirrored Malon's own. She ate sparsely and stayed in one corner of the field, eyes never straying from the ranch entrance. One day Malon got an idea and hitched the proud draft horse to her cart. She had hoped that the exercise would pull the horse's mind away from her missing rider. Obviously it hadn't worked. Even now, three months after the fire, she kept her large brown eyes trained on the horizon every chance she got.

"I know, darling girl." Malon said, lifting the crate to the back of the cart. She untied Epona and took her place on the wooden bench, beginning to lead the horse, "I miss him too."

~o~

The smell of stew wafted through the house, assaulting Malon's nose as she walked in. She had never been one for stews, preferring a simple meal of bread and cheese before returning to her work with the horses, but now she kept a pot on in the corner nearly all the time. She reminded herself that it wasn't for her as she picked up an earthenware bowl, scooping the thick brew into it with an audible slurp. She weighed the bowl in her hand, doubt flitting across her mind. He probably wouldn't eat it. Well, he wouldn't eat it alone, but if she could get a few good swallows in him while she was there, it would be enough.

She turned toward the staircase and her eye fell on the shelf next to it. The glass jar was there, its blue glow dancing on the wood. It seemed to defy the fire in the corner, which was the only other source of light in this room. The azure flame licked the inside of the glass playfully. She let herself smile. It was not wonder her Fairy Boy had liked the blue flame so much, it was just like him. She felt a soft prick at her eyes and she shook her head, bringing her thoughts back to the present, and started up the stairs.

The bed that had been hers since childhood was now occupied with another figure. His chest rose and fell quickly with his shallow breaths, his jaundiced skin stood out painfully against the old quilt, and his bloodshot eyes searched the room in the haze of wakefulness.

"Father?"

"Malon." Talon replied, his voice hoarse and rasping. He raised a hand to her in greeting. She smiled back at him before pulling up a stool and sitting next to his bedside, bowl of soup balancing in her other hand.

"I've brought you some stew." she said. Talon smiled wryly, waving his hand in a dismissive gesture.

"I haven't an appetite darling, you know that."

"Please just have some, Father. I know I'm not the best chef, but pay your daughter some flattery."

"Your cooking is fine." He said with an air of exasperation. He pushed himself up against the headboard with a low groan before settling back down on the pillows and taking the soup in his hands. He blew on the steaming bowl then lifted the edge slowly to his mouth. Malon watched him drink, making sure that he actually took the soup into his mouth instead of just touching his lips with it. He had tried that trick with her a few days ago and she had scolded him like a child. This time he did drink, but only a little, before giving the sloshing bowl back to her. She placed it on his bedside table.

"Malon," Her father said, his eyes searching the wall on the opposite side of him, "I need the paper."

"Father, no." Malon said sternly. Talon turned his head, fixing his sunken eyes on hers.

"I do. It's close, love. It's so very close, and I need to make sure everything is settled for you."

"You aren't as far gone as all that, Father." Malon said matter-of-factly. She stood from the stool and smoothed her hands over the bedspread, "You'll be right as rain in a few days."

"You know that's not true." He said seriously. He reached out and caught her wrist in his hand, stopping her. She tried to pull her hand away, but was surprised at his grip. "This is very serious, Malon. I am dying. You cannot stop it."

"You aren't dying."

"I am." He said, releasing her. He studied her face for a long moment before closing his eyes with a sigh. "You cannot hold to hope the way you do, Malon. There is no good in it."

"What else is there in this world?" She said, trying to sound light and casual, but his face remained stern.

"Practicality." He shook his head, then gestured for her to sit down. "If you will not allow me to write this, I must say it to you. It is important, at least for me, that you know this." He looked to his daughter, waited for her small nod, then began.

"I don't speak of your mother often, or in detail, for two reasons. The first reason is because of what she was. She was a Gerudo. I do not know how or why she came about the ranch, but she came much in the manner that your Fairy Boy did the first time. She was sixteen years old, I was seventeen, and I was immediately smitten with her. She told me that she needed to hide from her kind, they would come searching, but they wouldn't make her return if she had built a life outside of the encampment. At that point in time my father had died and my mother was aging very rapidly. She gave me her consent and passed the farm to me before retiring and living the last of her days in Kakariko.

"I don't think she was in love with me at first, but in time we grew to admire each other. It was then that I learned what an optimist she was. Every storm she would speak of nothing but the blessing of rain, and the joy that a blue sky would be after it was over. Every time a colt was born she would rejoice, and every time an old horse died she would perform a Gerudo ritual in the animal's honor, but never lost that cheeriness. I, on the other hand, inherited my father's concern and my mother's pessimism. I'm sure I drove your mother crazy, but somehow we fit. Then she told me that she was pregnant.

"Don't be hurt by this, Malon, but I never wanted children. I saw the way my parents broke their backs to provide the smallest amount of support for our own tiny family of three, and when she told me I was in a complete panic. She told me not to worry. Your mother was full of joy and hope, and by the time that the child was ready to be born, her optimism had begun affecting me. I found myself excited, overjoyed even, at the idea of having a child. She gave birth here, in this room, with only myself and a midwife from Castle Town. That child was not you. It was a boy, but he only survived for three days before passing quietly in the night. We were devastated." Talon closed his eyes, tears lining the edges of his eyelids. Malon could feel tears in her own eyes, but she made no move.

"When she told me later that she was pregnant, I was terrified. She was back to her cheerful self, as if the other child had never existed, and I feared nothing but the worst. When the time came for you to be born I was a complete wreck. It was exactly like the first time, except you survived."

Talon closed his eyes. His body had begun shaking with sobs, and Malon realized that this was probably the first time Talon had ever spoken about her mother like this. Even the Fisherman, as good a friend as he was, had been there from the beginning, Talon hadn't needed to air out his emotions like this. Her father took a breath and continued.

"She got sick right afterwards. It was a week, maybe two, before she was so sick she couldn't leave this room. I hired Ingo to help with the farm work, he was the son of one of my father's most trusted friends, and I figured that he would have our best interests at heart. Your mother was sick for a long time before she finally passed away one night, right here, in my arms." He held his arms out as if he was cradling someone.

"The reason I say these things to you is because I had hoped to spare you that kind of pain." He wiped the tears from his face, "I had hoped that by keeping you on this ranch, keeping you away from other people, you would never have the chance to fall in love, and never feel the pain of the loss like I did."

"Father," Malon said, furrowing her brows, "That is so… that's just so backwards."

"I know." Talon said, his voice full of shame, "I realized that when you were young. A part of me knew that I couldn't keep you from falling in love if that's what fate or the goddesses had planned for you, but I wanted to protect you." He cast his gaze back down to his legs, still under the quilt, and took fistfuls of the fabric in his hands.

"Then we went to Castle Town, and you met that boy."

"Father?" Malon was taken aback by her father's sudden anger.

"I wasn't worried until he came to our ranch. He was an innocent child, ever helpful and cheery, and I thought nothing of him, until he came to the ranch. A young child all dressed in green, a fairy following behind? I had heard tales of the Kokiri, but I didn't want to believe that's what he was. Besides, you seemed so happy to have him there with you. I suppose I assumed that as long as he didn't try to take you from the ranch, it would be just fine. They live forever, after all. I guessed that someday he would get bored, or realize that you would grow up when he wouldn't, and return to the forest for good. He would be a happy childhood memory for you, and we'd be no worse off than before."

"He wasn't Kokiri."

"The moment I opened my eyes to see his face above mine in Kakariko, to see that boy telling me that the ranch was back in your hands and I needed to return to you… I didn't know what to feel. I wanted to ask him what had happened to Ingo, what he had done to restore to us the ranch. Part of me was grateful that he had come back, saved you from whatever hold there was over me, part of me was furious. I wanted you to be happy, Malon, but life is not happy. The world does not give us hope, and that's what the boy was. He was hope, he was a dangerous kind of hope."

"Link was not dangerous." Malon said, her voice failing her. Her shoulders had begun to shake with the weight of her suppressed sobs and she brought her hands to her cheeks to cover her shameful tears.

"The way you are feeling now, Malon," Talon said seriously, "is the way I felt every time that boy left you. Every time I saw that look in your eye as you watched him go, and I knew that someday he would leave and never return. Despite his promises, despite his stories. If the things he told you were true, he was going to die in service to Princess Zelda, and there was no other fate for him. The boy was not dangerous, no. But what he represented for you was."

"You know nothing of it, Father."

"I know everything." he said sternly, "I know the way you looked at him because I had seen it before. It was the way your mother used to look at me. You loved that boy, Malon. There's no use in denying it. Just as there's no use denying that he is gone."

~o~

Malon woke up screaming. It was the kind of nightmare that she thought she had gotten used to in the last few months, but this one was so violent, so different. She had been plagued by visions of giant guillotines and raw, blood-soaked hands that dropped from the ceilings. There were walls that were not walls, and platforms that dissolved into nothing when she landed on them, throwing her into the pit of a black abyss. She woke from her nightmares with the smell of rust and blood and mold clinging to her sinuses, and a dark, sinking feeling that she was being watched, or hunted. All of these she had gotten used to, had gone from waking screaming, to waking with small whimpers, or just tears falling down her cheeks and soaking the old pallet, before wiping them away and beginning her day.

This dream had started differently. She was in a stone room with a single hole in the center of it. When she looked down, she could see a white surface underneath. Taking in a breath, she lept.

The monstrosity that met her was the most horrifying thing she had ever seen. A giant glowing red eye, lolling lazily in an open, weeping, decapitated neck. The arms that came out of the shoulders ended in stitched up stumps, but there were two disembodied hands that began pounding on the ground around her, sending her flying into the air with the booming sound of a drum beat.

She shook her head, closing her eyes tight and digging her palms into her eyelids. She watched the stars burst in her eyes for a brief moment before she shook her head and rose from the pallet. She ran her hands through her hair, shaking loose hay from the red strands before brushing off the front of her nightgown and turning toward the pot. The stew was still bubbling and she ran the spoon over the top of it, flinging out the soup skin, before reaching for an earthenware bowl.

"That's not necessary." Ingo's voice was rough and jolting, making her drop the bowl. She frowned at the shattered pieces and began to pick them up. Ingo approached her, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Why are you here?" She asked, her voice low.

"I told you that's not necessary." Ingo said, hooking his arm under her arm and yanking her up.

"He needs to eat." She hissed, wrenching her arm away from him.

"He is past the need for food." Ingo said. His voice was strange.

"What does that mean?" Malon asked, voice full of venom.

"Go see for yourself." He turned his body, gesturing to the stairs. Malon glared at him, then her eyes flicked to the stairs. Keeping her eye on Ingo, she started for the stairs and made her way up. Her heart beat heavily in her chest, the creaking of the steps echoing in her ears.

The door felt like it weighed a thousand pounds as she turned the handle and pressed it open. She let her eyes sweep over the floor, trailing across the ancient rug, past the worn down wooden floor, and up onto the bed.

Where the blanket had moved with the press of his shallow breaths just hours before, it now laid still. His eyes were closed, his face relaxed in an expression of deep peace. She let herself approach the bed, blood draining from her fingertips as she reached out and brushed his cold skin.

"It happened just a few hours ago." Ingo said, startling her as she stared at her father.

"Why were you here." She said simply. Ingo touched her shoulder, causing her to turn around.

"I was helping him execute his will, because you would not." he reached to the piece of paper sitting on the dresser, raising it to her eye. "LonLon Ranch belongs to me."