soul to soul our shadows roll, and i'll be with ya when the deal goes down;
title: The Magic That You Showed Me
character(s)/pairing(s): Link/Sheik
rating: PG-13
summary: Above all, Sheik taught Link how to use his hands. [written for tupelo_thief via a fic meme- choices were F, lesson; and H, hands.]
☆the magic that you showed me
Firstly, Sheik taught him how to use his hands.
That was where this world of earthen perfume rose from, that was how they came to know each other. Sheik, a slimmer shadow of some bygone ancient magic, taught Link what to do with himself. Taught him how to fit inside a body that was a stranger.
It started of course with music since music was the only kingdom over which a perpetual stranger like Sheik could reign. And reign with sound falling like a veil, like a panther crawl. Once Link got close enough, he could learn- as quick as he learned everything else- how Sheik spoke with his hands, and how he could speak back; the fingers gliding, tightening, grazing, maneuvered the speech of songs that could cloud everything with the shadow of rain, or songs that could bring him into the middle of a sandstorm, sun bright in his eyes. The strength of the songs made an undercurrent; because like the pearl is inevitably the oyster’s autobiography, everything a person creates is about the way they feel. Link saw that clearly every time they met: the ripping electricity between them, heat created by sound at Death Mountain Crater; the blue feeling, sweet nostalgic and melancholy, when they met soon thereafter in Zora’s Domain...
What Sheik taught him next was how to carry himself, how to use his hands to be a fighter. Link knew what he needed to know about fighting as a young boy, but his technique was rusty and purely instinctual. There were many times when Sheik watched from afar as the Hero’d drag himself from one of the temples like a torn hound, always victorious but incurring far too many injuries. Sheik caught a hold of him once and showed Link with what grace he held his daggers (Link saw something lunar in the curve of Sheik’s arm); Link wondered if he could ever carry himself with the compact grace that Sheik did. Sheik moved like a liquid shadow, like a real poet. Link would always remember the confusing warmth of Sheik’s arm against his, showing him the most effective way to strike, Sheik’s fingers with the resonance of a desert spice showing his own how to hold the hilt of a sword the best. Still other things; one night Sheik showed him how one correctly patches up his wounds so that they won’t reopen, and Link always smiled when he remembered that he hadn’t been grateful so much for the lesson as for the company on a breathless sugar night.
There were other things, too, less graceful and attaching themselves to memory to some degree, but finally- when Sheik realized that a childish love had bloomed to the point of restlessness and confusion- he taught him how to use his hands to be a creator; a lover. Link was nervous as a boy but he was courageous and he fell into it all with a seamless skill. Learning how to draw a sigh from Sheik in shady darkness, how to maneuver the madness of a tight proximity, breathing fast, touching and realizing. He learned what he liked and how to get it, and how to give it, and that to his best ability. Sheik could slip through his fingers like a shadow but he didn’t; he stayed- always guiding him, always right beside him. It was just the right medicine for a boy on a lonely path, and Link paid back everything he got- so that they existed in harmony, and faced the hidden war with everything their hands held from each other.
The last thing they learned together- and they did learn it together- was to hold onto each other and to not be afraid of a life without each other, because Sheik explained that (and perhaps it had been understood from the beginning) that he was only a shadow of Link’s destiny and very soon he’d be gone. They learned not to fight it prematurely; so that Sheik would kiss him with a cryptic knowledge, and Link would close Sheik’s eyes in the torrid night (soft glowing, fast moving), and they would hold their palms together, dissimilar lines touching, flat together, because as long as each of their hands could memorize the coves of the other they could carry each other and carry love throughout the lonely destiny of life.
NOTES;;
thanks for reading! :D
character(s)/pairing(s): Link/Sheik
rating: PG-13
summary: Above all, Sheik taught Link how to use his hands. [written for tupelo_thief via a fic meme- choices were F, lesson; and H, hands.]
☆the magic that you showed me
Firstly, Sheik taught him how to use his hands.
That was where this world of earthen perfume rose from, that was how they came to know each other. Sheik, a slimmer shadow of some bygone ancient magic, taught Link what to do with himself. Taught him how to fit inside a body that was a stranger.
It started of course with music since music was the only kingdom over which a perpetual stranger like Sheik could reign. And reign with sound falling like a veil, like a panther crawl. Once Link got close enough, he could learn- as quick as he learned everything else- how Sheik spoke with his hands, and how he could speak back; the fingers gliding, tightening, grazing, maneuvered the speech of songs that could cloud everything with the shadow of rain, or songs that could bring him into the middle of a sandstorm, sun bright in his eyes. The strength of the songs made an undercurrent; because like the pearl is inevitably the oyster’s autobiography, everything a person creates is about the way they feel. Link saw that clearly every time they met: the ripping electricity between them, heat created by sound at Death Mountain Crater; the blue feeling, sweet nostalgic and melancholy, when they met soon thereafter in Zora’s Domain...
What Sheik taught him next was how to carry himself, how to use his hands to be a fighter. Link knew what he needed to know about fighting as a young boy, but his technique was rusty and purely instinctual. There were many times when Sheik watched from afar as the Hero’d drag himself from one of the temples like a torn hound, always victorious but incurring far too many injuries. Sheik caught a hold of him once and showed Link with what grace he held his daggers (Link saw something lunar in the curve of Sheik’s arm); Link wondered if he could ever carry himself with the compact grace that Sheik did. Sheik moved like a liquid shadow, like a real poet. Link would always remember the confusing warmth of Sheik’s arm against his, showing him the most effective way to strike, Sheik’s fingers with the resonance of a desert spice showing his own how to hold the hilt of a sword the best. Still other things; one night Sheik showed him how one correctly patches up his wounds so that they won’t reopen, and Link always smiled when he remembered that he hadn’t been grateful so much for the lesson as for the company on a breathless sugar night.
There were other things, too, less graceful and attaching themselves to memory to some degree, but finally- when Sheik realized that a childish love had bloomed to the point of restlessness and confusion- he taught him how to use his hands to be a creator; a lover. Link was nervous as a boy but he was courageous and he fell into it all with a seamless skill. Learning how to draw a sigh from Sheik in shady darkness, how to maneuver the madness of a tight proximity, breathing fast, touching and realizing. He learned what he liked and how to get it, and how to give it, and that to his best ability. Sheik could slip through his fingers like a shadow but he didn’t; he stayed- always guiding him, always right beside him. It was just the right medicine for a boy on a lonely path, and Link paid back everything he got- so that they existed in harmony, and faced the hidden war with everything their hands held from each other.
The last thing they learned together- and they did learn it together- was to hold onto each other and to not be afraid of a life without each other, because Sheik explained that (and perhaps it had been understood from the beginning) that he was only a shadow of Link’s destiny and very soon he’d be gone. They learned not to fight it prematurely; so that Sheik would kiss him with a cryptic knowledge, and Link would close Sheik’s eyes in the torrid night (soft glowing, fast moving), and they would hold their palms together, dissimilar lines touching, flat together, because as long as each of their hands could memorize the coves of the other they could carry each other and carry love throughout the lonely destiny of life.
NOTES;;
thanks for reading! :D