The Hero Has a Home

By Dannondorf

Disclaimer: I do not own anything related to Zelda. This story is strictly for entertainment purposes and not for profit.

Author's Notes: Merry Christmas! It seems like a strange time to post a new story, but I wanted to get it out of my head before the day's festivities begin. This is NOT a sequel to Heart of Courage, which should be obvious given the two main characters: that's right. I can do pairings other than greenshipping. Betcha didn't know that. :P Enjoy part one of two.

Castle Town was ugly.

Other people would disagree, saying it was beautiful that it had been restored to such a state a mere week after Ganondorf's defeat, but Malon knew everyone was still on a spiritual high from their recent liberation. The refugees in Kakariko had returned to their homes here simply because they could, not because any of the buildings had been rebuilt, not because living here before reconstruction began was feasible, and certainly not because it was beautiful.

She didn't mind that it was ugly, though. Growing up at the ranch had taught her to cherish ugly settings, because one didn't have to be as cautious when having fun with them. Sometimes she slept in the barn on a dirty blanket covering the hay simply because she didn't have to be as careful not to mess things up there as she did in her own house. Her mother—ever the beautiful, elegant woman according to her father—had apparently been obsessively neat, and though he was lazy when it came to other things, Talon always kept their home clean to honor her memory and urged Malon to do the same.

So she did not mind wearing her dirtiest clothes and being surrounded by smelly (temporarily homeless) Hylians, split stone, splintered wood, and the decay of a city abandoned for seven years. In a way it relaxed her, like a long day of running and playing with the horses. Though she had ostensibly left her father behind for the week to help restore Castle Town to its former glory, she also came for the joyous and playful spirits left in the wake of the war's end. Happy to be free, happy to be alive with family and friends despite everything that happened to them…it was strange to think that something good had come from Ganondorf Dragmire's reign, but maybe that's what the others meant when they called Castle Town beautiful.

"You're it!" A hand slapped her back, and she ran on bare feet over filth-covered cobblestone, laughing as she pursued a young woman who, like her, was too old to play such games. The cold wind nipped teasingly at her ears and ran ethereal fingers through her long hair. Air rushing by moistened her eyes and when she and her prey burst out into the main part of town with a group of like-minded teenagers, she easily found a teary-eyed boy slow enough and bloated with cheer enough for her to catch. As he ran off to tag someone else following her cry of "No tag-backs!" she too became bloated with cheer, bending over at the waist even though she knew it made her less efficient at sucking air into her body.

When she lifted her head again, her breath hitched at a scrap of green. Her heart beat more quickly with the lack of air intake as her mind and eyes darted automatically toward the bright color, slowing down again as she breathed in the realization that it was just a plate of fruit. Disappointment straightened her back into proper standing, and it did not sadden her as much as it should have when her peers quit playing to partake in the modest feast laid out on an unstable table before what remained of the once-glorious fountain.

In the cold seasons, only Hylians were foolish enough to leave their sanctuaries to eat, and no insects flitted over the simple pastries and dishes. Combined with the clear blue sky which allowed all the sun's warmth to reach the city, this had some of the adults claiming a miracle. The goddesses made today perfect to reward their faith and ensure a bright future, they said, but Malon saw nothing miraculous about it (though she was mildly surprised none of the flies and maggots covering the recently-removed bodies of ReDead lingered). Again she saw the marks of evil and impurity that no one else seemed to notice: the fountain, pale and bathed in clean water when she was a little girl as if promising eternal youth and happiness, was dry and cracked. Chunks of stone were gone, possibly scattered in different pieces somewhere else in the district, and some moss and dirt remained regardless of how persistently Princess Zelda's servants had scrubbed it. Like with Castle Town, people called it beautiful, a symbol of Hyrule's enduring courage and wisdom in the face of the power which tried to control it, but Malon had difficulty appreciating it while Link was still missing. Nevertheless, sharing smiles with so many people made the trip worth it, even if he wasn't here as she hoped he'd be, so she joined the others in sitting on the ground and eating. Not a soul complained of the stone numbing their rear ends.

But thoughts of her unusual friend kept coming even as the wind tried to steal her focus, acting more like a jealous lover now than a friend. She gradually fell back from the many happy conversations and ignored the drumstick that stained her work dress when her body slumped. The last time Link visited, he only stayed long enough for her to tend to his injuries while he murmured deliriously about some Link-impersonator who wore dark colors. After the Imprisoning War finally ended, she expected that he would show up at the ranch like he always did when they were kids. She hoped for it, for despite how suddenly he had reappeared in her life after breaking contact for seven years, those few moments spent healing his body and mind during his quest and thanking him for saving the ranch renewed her interest in him. She wanted a normal day with the green-clad hero without him being injured or preparing for his next battle, but almost two weeks had passed since their last meeting. Only worry kept her from being mad at him, for no one else knew where he was either. He seemed to have vanished from everyone's lives, and she fought to remember his new adult form, handsome in a strange understated way. But the laughter and the grime held far more reality than he did, all blue and brown and no green, all sticky, disgusting, energetic anticipation and no happy relief.

"So where are you from?" a teenage boy to her side paused in his gorging to ask, and she smiled at the mix of mud and meat sauce on his young, happy face. She knew other people thought she was attractive, she knew people regarded attractive women as either treacherous or shy, and given how little she'd spoken while deep in thought, she knew which he thought she was. No lust or romantic interests, however, guided his actions: apparently everyone truly was on their best behavior today, and he simply wanted her to get involved and to feel as overjoyed as everyone else. Genuinely uplifted by the sentiment and not wanting to be rude, she humored him with a simple "Lon Lon" that she hoped would satisfy his need for conversation. He opened his mouth to speak again but closed it quickly, looking forward.

He wasn't the only one. When the dozens of people fell silent like her, she returned her attention to the banquet. Behind the buffet table and in front of the fountain, the princess stood atop a soapbox. By no means grandiose, her presence still commanded everyone's attention, and to Malon's relief her soft voice somehow quieted even the wind. "It is a wonder to all of our hearts, I think, to see a day such as this. On this day we give thanks to Link, the Hero of Time, who saved us from Ganondorf one week ago."

Malon's heartbeat quickened again. Link…the Hero of Time… It still sounded so strange to her, but it made sense. Even as a little girl, she saw how different he was. To her amazement, her shy friend had always been able to overcome his lack of strength and bravery. She was sure he would do great things because of it, and she wanted that part of him, because those great things would carry him (and perhaps already had) far beyond the ranch that was her life. Judging from the tales people liked to tell of the Hero's incredible feats, that aspect of him remained true in the present.

"He is the one that many of you refer to as "the faceless warrior," the one who has helped so many of us." Malon cracked a smile. The name suited him; for reasons that escaped her, he covered all his skin except for his face with clothes, and even then his long bangs sometimes covered his eyes. "And I give thanks to you, Hyrule's patrons. Ganon and his minions have left our kingdom scarred, and healing will take time. So much has to be done, but for now please enjoy this food, graciously given and prepared by the workers of Lon Lon Ranch. Eat and gather your strength, because we have a lot of work ahead of us."

Malon tried to hide her sour expression as Princess Zelda took time to thank many individual people. She didn't doubt her sincerity—Link seemed fond of the princess, and he wouldn't befriend a liar—and unlike some people, she didn't blame the princess for hiding for seven years while Hyrule fell apart. She didn't even resent Hyrule's new ruler for probably getting to spend more time with Link than she had recently (though Malon admitted it certainly didn't help). It was her manner of dress that bothered her.

The sole survivor of the royal bloodline wore makeup. Her spotless gown flowed like a beautiful accompaniment to her melodic voice, and her hair was more structured and thought-out than the city had been at its most prosperous. Zelda surely meant no harm and was probably trying her best to look like a princess to restore the order Ganon upset, but it still offended Malon that the princess was not dirty and ugly like the rest of the people, like the rest of the world. It meant she did not truly join them in the universal celebration, in the playfulness and relief which followed the suffering. The little soapbox separated her from them, preventing her dainty feet from touching the filth that Malon and the others had run through all morning.

But no one else seemed upset, so she kept her peace. To Malon's inner delight, she mentioned Link again. "It has always been the way of history's greatest heroes to humbly vanish before anyone can thank them. According to many, Link has done just that. No one has seen him since his fight against the King of Evil, but I know for a fact that he is alive." Zelda paused in her speech to glance at the back of her gloved hand as if confirming something, but as far as Malon could tell nothing tainted the flawless white silk. "He has most likely returned to his home in the forest to rest and heal his wounds, but I believe he will return soon. I would like everyone to keep an eye out in the coming days; he's most likely to come here when he reemerges, and I think I speak for everyone when I say we should be ready to give him the thanks he deserves when that time comes."

After more discussion that didn't interest Malon, the speaker stepped down. The crowd cheered and gossiped excitedly about the Hero's return, but she suddenly didn't feel happy anymore. Despite everyone's optimism, she didn't think Link would just show up again after all this time, at least not to her. There was no reason he couldn't have seen her for just a few minutes on one of his trips across Hyrule Field, so clearly she was no longer part of his life. She'd hoped that he would at least come to the ranch to heal after his ultimate fight so she could have an excuse to talk to him. "Link…" she whispered to herself, drowned out by the festivities. "I miss you so much…"

Her single greatest regret was not having the articulation and foresight to tell him how much he meant to her when they were twelve and he was still around. He was one of her only friends, never very vocal or emotional but always filled with that secret playfulness that she loved. She liked to think she had pestered her way into his heart by talking to him and making him play with her when they were kids, when he didn't seem to have any more friends than she did, but obviously she was wrong. Sometimes at night when all that kept her company were her father's snores, she wondered if Link would have continued to see her had she said something else to him before he left, but it was stupid to think that. It was stupid to still be thinking about him at all after he abandoned her. Still, she couldn't shake her desire to see him again.

Her confused musings finally convinced her that coming here had been a mistake. Despite all the fun she had mere minutes ago, she wanted to go back home and shut herself in her room. But sadness gave way to confusion and then fear when a man's scream instantly tore apart the peace that seemed so heavy and everlasting. The crowd scrambled away from a central point, some efficiently but others slipping and flopping in the mud. The boy who spoke to her earlier had left before she registered his absence as the town fell away from her. What was going on? Before she could look, someone knocked her over. Cold slime splattered beneath her, and as she recovered from her daze, she saw the reason for the panic: a ReDead dark as the muk lurked toward the no-longer stoic princess, who stood frozen in fear. Another shriek pierced the air, this time freezing Malon as a second lifeless sack of flesh hobbled toward her. She screamed, and as it neared, she feared not death, but dying before she got to see Link again. His cute face, his hugs, his smile and laugh that were so rare but that she somehow always managed to get from him. Now she would never experience those things again, and the thought broke her heart so much that she could only close her eyes and wait for death.

But no attack came. A brilliant gold light erupted from Zelda's hand, from the glove she held up earlier, and the princess found her voice once more. "Link! Help!" At the sound of her friend's name, Malon opened her eyes once more just in time for a flash of green light to blind her. When she recovered, she saw that a male who had not been in the crowd before stood by Zelda's side and swung an enormous blade through her captor. As the ReDead groaned in pain, folding over itself in its collapse, the swordsman leapt into the air, weapon raised above his head and glowing a pure, ethereal white. "It's him!" someone shouted, and Malon tried to get a look at who this "him" was. However, he moved quickly after that, and she couldn't see his face. A blue hat obscured his hair, though a few blonde strands escaped and flew wildly about as he leapt from foe to foe in a deadly show so fluid that it resembled a dance with the ReDeads groaning in defeat in time with his footsteps. Despite how much trouble the knights reported having with these creatures in past years, he seemed to have little trouble slaying them with his strange blade.

In seconds the fighting ended and he stood alone in a circle of blood. The creatures dematerialized and he walked up to Zelda. She smiled to wave off his concerns, and he turned to look for other victims. He approached Malon, hair obscuring his eyes and forehead. Still on the ground in a disbelieving state, she felt fuzzy, the impressions of the quick surreal chain of events fading as reality set in. It was over. No one got hurt, and everything was fine.

Regardless, she had no idea what was going on. He reached out a hand to help her up, and she was only dimly aware of the crowd's cheering and staring. "Are you all right?" he asked in a scratchy voice. Coming to her senses, she accepted his offer and stood up.

"Yes, I'm…" But when his hair finally parted and she got a look at his face, she lost her senses once more. "Link?"

"Huh?" he whispered, but she still heard it. She gazed at him in wonder, and he gazed right back. She examined his hair, his eyes, his clothes, his height, at last having a good chance to do so but for some reason having difficulty believing this was real. He was there, he was right in front of her. She could touch him if she wanted, but her body only seemed capable of staring. They stood still for another moment, drinking each other in, until at last he spoke again. "Malon?" She smiled—perhaps her brightest smile in a long time—but suddenly everyone closed in on them.

"Did I hear her right? Is your name Link?"

"Look! He has the Master Sword! He's the Hero of Time!"

"It's the Faceless Warrior! He's the one who saved Kakariko from that beast that hurt Impa!"

At once the cold shrank away as body heat pleasantly poured onto her from people who had closed in on them. It was not so pleasant for Link, though, and he seemed to shrink as well as though fearing the arms that brushed across him. Her euphoria turned sour and she wished that all these people would just wait for a few minutes. All she had wanted for the past week was a moment alone with him. She would not be denied.

"Well, Hero," Princess Zelda began, somehow drawing everyone's attention, "I'm glad you've decided to return." She spoke slyly, victoriously. Malon didn't like how informal and familiar she acted, but she was too focused on how nervous Link was to dwell on it. She knew from experience that he was getting claustrophobic from being around so many people. They shared one last glance.

"I'll meet you near the Temple of Time," he whispered. Then, to her great shock, he shouted "Farore's Wind!" before vanishing in another explosion of green light.

Gasps of surprise and confused shouts filled the air before the group exploded from its cluster, but despite his parting words, Malon did not move immediately, her heart still working double-time. She couldn't believe it. He had been gone for so long. Was that really him? He seemed bigger than he had been last time. He acted like he hadn't abandoned her for the last seven years, and more importantly, he wasn't wearing all green. Instead, blue covered his person. Most strangely of all, his parting words had been a shout, and Link never shouted. Remembering his tale of a doppelganger, a "Dark Link" who looked like him but wore different colors, she grew suspicious.

But that didn't keep hope from welling up inside her. She ran away from the commotion to an alley filled with tents and dove into hers, closing the flap and holding her hand to her chest as she caught her breath. "Link…he's back…Link's back…" She spoke these words over and over, even though she knew that her childish heart was setting itself up for breaking with each repetition. A large part of her still doubted that it was really him, but this was the first genuine evidence she'd seen in a while that he might be coming back into her life for good. She had to pursue this, no matter how apprehensive she was.

She collected her thoughts for almost five minutes before she felt ready to face him, and then she bolted out, sprinting again. Along the way, all the meandering townsfolk talked about the return of the Hero, and it fueled her passion. She made it to the irreverently vacant Temple District much more quickly than she thought she would.

The Temple of time stood tall and proud, the only structure left untainted by Ganondorf's reign. Malon feared the mysteries this magic place held, and when a whisper broke the quiet, she steeled her heart even as it started beating faster. On the other side of the holy building, her eyes widened against her will as she met the Link lookalike. His trademark hat overflowed with hair which failed to conceal his emotions. "I'm sorry we had to meet like this," he said, still whispering. "I'm just…I didn't know people would want to crowd around me when I came back."

It was exactly what Link would say, and finally her conflicting emotions and aching heart got the better of her. "You may be the Hero of Time, but you're not Link," she said accusingly.

His recoiled in shock, blonde hair moving about him when he stepped back as though struck. "It's hard to explain, but I've been occupied the last seven years. Come on, Malon, you know I wouldn't lie to you."

"I know nothing about you!" she almost yelled. "And Link would never wear…that!" Link was dirty like her, like everyone else. He once told her his green tunic was a sign that he was a Kokiri and that he would never wear anything else. But this man wore a royal blue tunic as clean and perfect as Zelda's dress despite the bloody battle minutes ago.

"I didn't have a choice…these clothes are magic, made by the Zora, and I had to wear them to complete my quest. No matter what hits me, the tunic cannot be soiled or destroyed."

She wasn't surprised that the imposter had an excuse, but when her eyes traveled to his barely visible fingertips, she did notice that the parts of him not covered by the tunic were dirty. Still, she had to be strong to guard herself from this Dark Link. "You're still not Link. He never shouts like you did."

"I was using an advanced spell. I'm not skilled enough to cast it without yelling like that. Shouting the spell's name helps me focus my magic."

Her anger failed and she struggled to maintain her castigating tone, but she could not keep the hope out of her next words. Puffs of air froze and rose from his mouth, further hiding his eyes without him having to try, and she wished they would fade into the rest of the clear sky and let their eyes connect as they did earlier. "He still never would have stayed away from me for seven years."

Looking hurt beyond belief, he stuttered at first. "I know it's hard to believe, but I wasn't even in Hyrule to see you during that time. Ask me anything. There has to be some way I can prove it to you." But she would not speak, not trusting herself any more than she trusted him. Similarly lost for words, he at length began to hum sadly.

It was quiet and off-key—he'd always been better with an ocarina than with his voice—but the tune was unmistakable. She didn't want to believe it at first and stared at him, looking for any evidence that he was trying to deceive her, but in between his exhales she saw the same kindness that had always been in Link's eyes.

It finally broke her. "Link," she choked, "that's my…you're…" She closed the distance between them, reaching up to the taller man's face and touching him, making sure he was real. He made no movement, and she leapt at him, crushing him and her arms against the wall as she hugged him tightly. Their bodies thudded against the stone and crushed into each other, her chest pressed against his. As was his habit years ago, he tensed once he recovered his breath, uncomfortable with the contact, and the familiarity of the situation made her squeeze more tightly in joy. "It really is you! You're back…" She felt like melting when he hugged back, taking her in his arms, and couldn't bring herself to look at him again, terrified that she would see something proving she was mistaken and that her best friend hadn't really come back. She ignored his whispered apologies, no longer caring what kept him away for so long or whether it was his fault. He was back, and nothing else mattered.