Minuet of Spring Contest 2009---fanfic---roflolmaomg
Author: Roflolmaomg
Category: Fanfiction
Song:
http://www.mediafire.com/?qtmqhjjtvmd
--Iron and Wine
Rating: PG, PG-13 if you don't like kissing. :(
Word count: 594. Just under. :D
When Link closes his eyes, he dreams of sweet, lush grass beneath his fingers. He sees the sharp arches of vines, curling heavy and thick around the massive trunks of trees. He hears laughter as whimsical as wind, dripping from the mouths of faces he does not recognize.
Everyone, everyone has something to hide, he thinks, watching Hyrule behind his eyelids. Its princess had gone when the sky turned black, angry and frightening. Its people fell into the sleep of the defeated. Kakariko burned, Zora’s Domain froze. Korkiri children, forever destined to remain deep in the belly of the woods, drew even farther away in fear of the bleak dawn.
Link opens his eyes, but he still does not understand. When he was very small, Saria had held him close and whispered that he would be great, no matter what the rest of the children said. Link had scrubbed at his face until it was red, tears ignored and left at the corners of his eyes. He wouldn’t believe her for another four years. When Link turned ten, the Great Deku Tree’s voice rumbled inside of him and called him forward, reluctant and afraid. That very day, Link steeled himself against the face of death, and so began the loss of his childhood.
Reliance, Link has come to learn, is not the same as love. He curls his fingers into the earth beneath him, as if he is not already grounded enough. The entire weight of Hyrule presses his shoulders back, makes him feel too heavy to ever stand up again. He knows the shocking innocence of the Korkiri, the fierce pride of the Goron brothers. His heart aches for the gentleness of the Zoras, the abandoned Sheikahs, the bitterness of the Gerudos. These people rely on Link, he knows. He is their hope for a sunrise that does not scorch the fields to straw. They rely, but do not love.
Link had thought he was brave enough to grit his teeth and push away the things he knows he shouldn’t know, until he met Sheik. At first, Link saw nothing behind hard red eyes except impatience and indifference.
Then, all of the times Link thought, this is it, I’m really going to die, Sheik dropped in and Link caught flashes of concern.
Then, all of the times they rode wordlessly through ink-drenched nights, Link saw exhaustion pull at his shoulders.
Then, all of the times Link stripped his tunic and hat and wiped grime from the back of his neck, he looked up and found hunger that made heat pool low in his belly and flush red in his ears.
The first time they kissed, it was panicked and hurried and they were covered in blood and whoelse knows what. Sheik’s long fingers had gripped Link’s arms so hard he’d gasped, and too suddenly the kiss became dirty and frantic, their jaws falling open to reach as much of each other as possible. Link remembers his sharp inhale when Sheik pulled away, remembers how terrified and young he looked with the filthy cowl lying in tatters around his neck. He remembers how greedy he felt, taking in the sight and branding it to the inside of his eyelids. Link had licked his lips, tasting sand and clean and lust. He remembers meeting empty air at the attempt to reconnect, eyes fluttering open and skin itching from where the Sheikah’s fingers had been.
Everyone has something to hide, Link thinks, pounding his fist into ground and feeling more alone than he can ever remember.