Inspiration: The Legend of Zelda series is by far my favorite series of video games ever! (I know! A girl gamer! What a shock!) Anyway, as much as I love our hero and the princess he constantly rescues, I decided I wanted to write something about two of the less appreciated characters. Here's the result!
Disclaimer: You know the drill! All the characters you know are from The Legend of Zelda are obviously not mine and I have no claims on them. But any you don't know probably are mine, as are the fantastical situations the characters are placed in; which spring from the dangerous combination of creativity and boredom.
Clarification: Characters based mostly on Ocarina of Time, except for Shadow Link which is based on Four Swords Adventures. I do take partly from the official Zelda mangas by Akira Himegawa. I know many people consider the manga noncanon, but they are still wonderful and deserve a read!
Shadow Bound
A Place I've Never Been
She was up before the sun. Working, milking, feeding, cleaning, dusting, washing, scrubbing, lifting, pushing, bottling, carrying, moving, grooming, sweeping, collecting, feeding again… Such is the life of the ranch hand. Malon did not hide her humble life, though her beauty would have allowed it, she wasn't a princess. Neither was she the daughter of a particularly wealthy man. She was a simple farm girl with a penchant for song.
Of course, this isn't to say she was clear of self-deception. For, like any thinking being, she did dream of better things. It had started with a story her mother had told her as a little girl; about a poor farm girl who was rescued by a charming prince riding a white horse. And though her mother had passed not too long after, though her father was a kind but horribly lazy man, though she worked from dawn to dusk everyday save Sundays, and though she had just recently come into her eighteenth year, a secret part of her had never stopped believing.
Behind those bright eyes and chocolate hair, which seemed almost crimson in the country sun, she held the child's story dear in her breast. So while she worked hard, she still dreamed during the day, and waited at night. She sang when she waited, she realized. When she was a little girl, she had been waiting for her mother. Although she was dead, although Malon knew the dead do not return, she had waited.
When she had outgrown serenading ghosts, she had cried a little. There was nothing more painful than admitting to yourself that the one you love most was never coming back. For a while Talon and Ingo had been worried, the strong-willed little songbird had even ceased to sing.
But then the little colt had appeared. It was orphaned, or abandoned, no one could be sure. At first Ingo had thought to tame it, but the creature had a soul as wild as the winds that run through Hyrule plain. It would let no-one near, yet lacked the ability to sustain itself. Eventually Ingo had decided to humanely end its life, it would be better than leaving it to starve.
Of course Malon, kind hearted by nature, intervened. She had insisted to Ingo and her father Talon to give her a chance to tame the pretty little colt. It was the most spirit the ranchers had seen in the girl for months. How could they deny her?
It wasn't easy. The colt bolted whenever one came near and stamped upon anything it was offered. Malon was patient, Malon was kind. By the third night she became discouraged and wanted to cry. But her tears had been so long exclusive to her mother, it seemed wrong to waste them. So instead she sang to alleviate her grief. And then, something amazing happened.
Memorized by lyric beauty, the colt had come. Shyly, and slowly, of course, but it came. Malon sang a song of her mother's to the wild colt, touching its chocolate, almost crimson pelt. "We match." Malon said with a smile. "And my dress is white, like your mane. Like we're inverted!" The colt whinnied and nuzzled against her face. Malon learned then that the colt had only been frightened. The wild, angry, outbursts had been but a façade to hide uncertainty. But all was right now and Malon dubbed the wild little colt Epona for, now close enough to be inspected, it was discovered to be female.
Epona had, in many ways, been Malon's saving grace. The brazen thing only trusted Malon, and caring for it became a reason for Malon to do more than mourn the departed. So the little girl moved on, with a true friend she vowed to keep close forever. It was a more comfortable way to view the world, at least for a lonely little girl. A lonely little girl who sang at night, holding her little colt close and singing to the moon for a Prince Charming she never really expected to come.
How could Malon have known that one day he would come and change her reality all over again?
He was a sight, to say the least. Blond lemon-drop hair with eyes to match the deep of the sky. His clothes were of a strange fashion, as green as the forest itself. And the little winged light that followed him, as he dashed from place to place as if on some important secret agenda. But for this winged light, he seemed always alone.
She had met him only twice as a child. Once, running through the market place, she had caught a glimpse of him. She did not remember now, if they had really even exchanged a word. It all seemed so long ago to her; buried amongst the routine of everyday and the dreams of every night. The second time he had come to her, or more specifically to the ranch.
He was probably in search of Lon Lon Ranch's famous milk. Or perhaps he had simply become lost on his journey. Whatever the reason, she had recognized him immediately. And with lack of a name she had hailed him Fairy Boy, for the ever present winged light sparkling not too far behind him.
He had not stayed long, but for enough time to play for the night. It was not often that Malon found herself with a playmate, and even less often with one so unique. There was an honesty, a simplicity about him she had never sensed in another. She couldn't help but trust him, so she let him into her world of songs and secret games to disguise the farm work. She taught him her mother's song, which she had since named Epona's Song.
The boy had a talent for the ocarina and echoed her notes flawlessly. Upon hearing their sacred song, the colt had rushed up. "She's grown fond of you, Fairy Boy!" Malon had exclaimed ecstatically, for never before had Epona come close to another.
Then the boy had left and Malon felt certain he would return to play again. He was different, after all. Epona had trusted him. The song had accepted him.
The boy didn't return and with time Malon stopped waiting. She matured and playmates no longer remained her greatest interest. Strangely, childhood stories of Princes did. More often than not she found herself singing to the moon, again for the Prince she knew would come for her. She had been promised, after all!
The disaster came; when Ingo fell to madness and drove Talon away. Malon was kept prisoner, the horses were beaten, customers ceased to visit the most famous milk ranch. It was the worst time Lon Lon Ranch had ever seen, at least in Malon's lifetime. She was not so much afraid; for she knew, mad or not, Ingo would not harm her. It was more a quiet desperation that took her, as her life outside the barn all but disappeared. And Epona—oh Epona! She was to be taken to the dark King Ganondorf! What life would there be, held in pointless bondage, without even her dearest friend for company?
Then he had returned. She could not place him at first, changed as he was. He had grown so tall, and the roundness had left his face. His jaw had become chiseled, strong. His body angular and exciting! How could she have recognized him?
When he burst in through the roof, claming to have come to her rescue, what should she have done besides dismissed him? "I'm Link!" He had declared, but Malon had never known any link save the ones that made up the chains in the barn.
She had recited to him the story of the Prince that would eventually save her, riding his white horse. "Your horse is brown." She had said with a sigh. "A bit red, maybe. But not whi-" Familiarity struck a chord. That horse was one she knew. Epona hadn't been taken to the dark King!
A winged light floated beside her and memories, long locked away, had flooded back in a fluid rush. "Fairy Boy." It was an insult now, of course. With age such names developed negative connotations. Link had only groaned and politely asked to be addressed by name.
Malon had responded by throwing her arms around him, letting him take her away from all of this nothing. He was her Prince. There could be no other! A horse by any other color would still ride as swiftly!
But then that strange Sheikah had appeared, plucking at his harp and spouting cryptic clues about the long missing Princess' whereabouts. Link had become flushed, ardently demanding to know more. Malon had stilled, knowing. Knowing before Link, yes it was obvious Link didn't know! But Malon knew. Just by staring at those cerulean eyes, alit with fire as she had never seen them, she knew. Another had claimed him, and what match was she for a princess? The princess, no less!
Ingo's senses had been returned. Malon wasn't quite sure how Link had managed to do so, but she didn't ask. Talon returned as well; admitting he had gone for help and fallen asleep, as he often did.
Then Link left. He took Epona with him. Malon didn't protest, the horse adored him! And why wouldn't she? Who was Malon to deny Epona the owner she waned, especially out of bitterness at losing her Prince? So she called it a gift and went about her way. Business picked up, work returned, routine settled back in. Lon Lon Ranch was once again prosperous.
He still visited sometimes, for milk or repairs on his saddle. On occasion he borrowed tools to groom Epona. Malon never spoke to him much, but for a casual conversation or a friendly wave. He didn't seem to mind and Malon didn't want to hinder him. Still, every time she heard Epona's distinctive neigh, Malon rushed to her window or hurried to hide behind the Cucco coop to see if she could catch a glimpse of him. He was gorgeous beyond anything Malon had ever seen and her heart still raced at the mere though of him.
There had been no announcement of Princess Zelda's wedding, and no rumors of a suitor. So then there was still hope. There was still time.
And yet there wasn't. Malon knew it wouldn't happen. She was nothing special to him, but another familiar face from his many travels. He had met so many women, of high-rank, of different ethnicities and species even. Why would one farm girl matter? Why would one farm girl stick out in his mind, when Hyrule alone had so much more to offer?
So thus became Malon's new reality. She woke in the morning, worked in the afternoon, sang for him in the evening, and slept with dreams of him at night. No more, no less. One could think it was an empty existence, but Malon was happy, if not unfulfilled. Every time she heard even a whisper of his voice, she counted the months until he would reappear. Waiting was not so painful, not as long as she wished. Sometimes she'd imagine he'd come in and she wouldn't notice, she wouldn't rush into a hiding place to watch him, and he'd walk up behind her. He'd tap her playfully, asking for assistance, and she'd serve. They'd talk, but not worthless jabber like 'how are you, I am fine.' No, she'd ask him about his travels, and he'd share. Then he'd ask about her life and she'd confess. She'd confess how her life was nothing more than what he saw, with the added element of her love for him. She'd tell him how she waited, how she hoped, how she loved him more than any other person ever could, and how happy she was to have left Epona in his care.
Of course, she'd never really say such things. Surely he'd heard similar themes a million times from a thousand foolish girls. He'd think it a silly crush, a girlish obsession. He'd be uncomfortable with her after, wouldn't want her help. He'd avoid her, perhaps even find another place. She had once overheard him mention a Romani's Ranch. Oh, how she hung on his words!
She had tried many times to rid herself of these feelings. They were distracting. They were painful. They were frustrating.
And yet she couldn't. Her whole world was centered around these feelings and, try as she might, she could not be rid of them. She'd dismiss all thoughts of him; only to have them haunt her when she dropped her guard, or to catch a glimpse of him riding towards Hyrule castle and melt at the sight. And what else did her life hold for her but this dream anyway?
It was a paradox. She could not forget Link because she wanted more out of life. And she could not stop wanting more out of life because she could not forget Link. A vicious, beautiful cycle. Damn irony to the void!
She was, in so many ways, his shadow. Always following at his heels, whether around the ranch or in her dreams. More so even, for his shadow left him when the light faded, while her thoughts of him never grew dim.
So the cycle went on, and after a while Malon stopped fighting it. Though her strong-will bid her never give up, Malon gave in. She loved Link, more than she dared ever say. But she would just have to accept her love as a dream, nothing more. She could live like that. People need love to live, her stubborn nature argued. But unrequited love was still love. Yes, she could live like that.
At least, she would have to.
Then it happened. Inconveniently, just as she was settling in, her reality was toppled all over again.
Retiring to bed one night, a sparkle in the distance caught Malon's eye. It was outside of the ranch, and venturing out into the field in the dark was not very safe. But it didn't seem too far off, and the chance that it could be Link resting by a stream was too great an opportunity to pass up. She was eighteen now, well into a marriageable age. If ever there was a chance to confess her heart, even if to be rejected, even if just to lessen the leaden weight in her chest, then now was it!
He probably wouldn't accept her love, but Link was a kind and generous man. He'd most likely thank her and pat her head, offer to escort her home as if she was a child. Malon knew this, and still she felt her pulse rushing. Just to see him, alone, at night. She had to tell him, she had to.
Her every second of waiting and dreaming had culminated in this moment. And if he refused her, at least she had her moment, forever held somewhere in time, where the Goddesses could forever see Malon, really see her.
She quietly stepped into the barn, dusting the lamp and tilting the oil barrel into the tip; filling it. Malon turned the knob carefully, slowly, allowing the light to grow bright enough to see, but not so bright as to wake Ingo. Her father wouldn't wake, she knew. Sleep was what the man did best.
Gently, on tiptoe, Malon crept out beyond the ranch's gates. The wind was nipping and the night was icy cold. Malon clutched the shawl around her neck for warmth and continued, the winds blowing her skirts and hair roughly in the air.
And though she held the oil lamp firmly in hand, the rapid winds proved too much and knocked it out of grip. The lamp fell to the grass and shattered. For a split moment, Malon feared the field would catch aflame. But it had begun to sprinkle and the mess was doused in an instant. Relief, however, was short as Malon found herself in darkness.
Just ahead the sparkle continued to shine, like a misplaced star. Now she had no choice but to follow. The rain was packing. She'd need Link's assistance to make it home.
She neared the stream, the sound of rushing water a chilling warning of flood if the rains continued. There he lay, perfect, gorgeous, as always. So peaceful, so curiously halfway into the stream. For a moment Malon thought he might be bathing and blushed fiercely. Then she noticed his stillness; the absurdity of bathing on a freezing night, with blistering winds, in the rain.
"Link?" She murmured softly, more to herself than to him as if the sound of his name would assure her of his presence. She crouched closer. He made no move.
It was then a murkiness in the stream caught Malon's attention. It was a dark fluid, and it seemed to be seeping out of Link's very body. "Blood!" She shrieked in a sudden dread insight. But as quickly as the fluid had appeared, it evaporated into black smoke and vanished. Malon sat, stark still and wide-eyed. A while passed, rain began to pour mercilessly. Malon felt herself go numb with cold, and still she did not move.
The assumed Link groaned, snapping Malon out of her stupor. She had no intimation as to what had happened minutes prior, but if Link really had been bleeding then he needed medical attention! Stealing her strength, Malon wove her arms through Link's and pulled, hauling him across the muddied fields. Her boots squished and sank beneath her, too often coming precariously close to slipping.
Link was surprisingly light for his height, though Malon accredited it to her own strength at the time. She was a ranch hand. She had worked hard her whole life; that was training in itself.
She could not see where she was going in the dark, granted she was also pulling backwards. But she knew the ranch was not too far from the stream, so she pulled until she hit a wall. There she slid her back against the wall, praying to he Goddesses in the right direction, to find the entrance. Malon pulled hard and kept her grip firm. She could not breathe from all the water on her face. She was drenched to the bone, and freezing beyond all feeling. She would not look down at her skirts, knowing they were mud-encrusted beyond restoration.
She held tight, his skin slick against hers, causing him to slip. But Malon held fast and hurried, her back aching. Finally her efforts were rewarded. With an additional push of will, Malon managed to drag Link into her home. She placed him gently as she could on a pile of hay. The rooms were upstairs, but she did not think she could make the trip with his burden. Instead she slunk up silently to fetch clean blankets and a pillow, returning to tuck him in.
She was quick and quiet, frightened for his health yet secretly thrilled. She was saving the hero! A simple farm girl! What a concept! Irony was not so terrible.
Malon fetched another oil lamp, the one belonging to Ingo, and brought it close to examine his wounds. She saw none, but instead found something much more disturbing.
Link's normally peachy complexion was now a swarthy grey. His golden hair had become a sinister silver. In place of forest green, he wore a tunic black as soot. And his eyes, eyes as warm and blue as the summer sky, were now two red orbs blazing into her.
He was awake.
It was awake.
Malon took a breath to scream but the pseudo-Link pulled her down beside him. "Shh." He whispered smugly, a sardonic smile twisting his lips. "You'll wake the others."
Malon was not a flighty girl. She did not jump on chairs at the sight of a spider. She feared little and stood up to much. What made this situation in particular all the more alarming was this imposter's uncanny resemblance to her Prince. But for the discoloration of his features, he was Link.
Malon pushed herself out of his grasp. The imposter made no move against her escape, thus Malon made no attempt to scream. Instead she stared for a moment more at those mocking eyes, boring into her hotly. Then she turned and dashed up the stairs to her room, locking the door behind her.
She had once overheard Link tell of an adventure where he had battled himself, or more specifically his shadow. An evil shadow, who murdered and felt nothing. Malon backed away from the door. Her legs, exhausted from overexertion and panic, collapsed beneath her. She crumpled to the floor; weak, confused, and frightened.
She had just invited death into her home.
Please review and tell me what you think! I was considering expanding this into a full story, but I like it as a one-shot too.
What do you think? Continue? Keep it short but sweet? Take it down because it is the worst thing Zelda-related since the CD-I games? (Eep! I hope to the Goddesses that it's not!)
Thank you for reading!