To See The Sun Smile: Part Five

[zeffyface]

DISCLAIMER: All of The Legend Of Zelda Characters and Places belong to Nintendo, and maybe some other equally important organizations/people. They are not, nor have ever been mine. I just write silly fics.

Note: Hey, um, long time no see?
Well if you still remember me or this fic, hopefully the next sections will be going up much faster, thanks to My Muse, Beta, and Kick-Into-Shape thinger, Sometimesamuse.

Little thing for this chapter, I don't use any OC's, so the new girl ain't mine. Have fun guessing who she is, we'll find out later.

*Slinks off to write more*
(Zef)


Part Five

Interlude

There was a fresh grave in the yard – one in a line of many, and yet certainly not the last to arrive. Years of Ganondorf’s reign had eventually slowed the deaths, but not from any outward improvement. The people had simply grown harder, reset their values. It was a population of survivors now, of steeled eyes and set jaws. And yet the new graves came, and Sheik would watch those eyes steel until it ran the whole way through.

Yes, they had survived. But hope had been buried next to the souls of the lost.

Silently, Sheik walked up to the loose mound of earth, marked only by a flat stone at the head. Perhaps a name would be carved later, perhaps there were none that knew it. The sky rumbled softly as the Sheikah stood at the foot of the grave, and he glanced at the dark gray clouds in question. A damp wind whistled across the grass in response – the rain would not hold off much longer.

“How strange.”

Sheik refrained from starting at the soft, mellow voice and spared a glance to his left. A woman stood barely three paces away, dressed in a simple white sundress that billowed in the breeze. He blinked, caught off guard at how someone had managed to get so close without his notice, but the woman paid no mind. She seemed content to stand, hands folded behind her back, and gaze upon the grave with a serene sort of expression. She had a pleasant face, one that wore the look well, with a smattering of freckles to match the auburn tresses raging down her back. Everything about her was completely out of place in this graveyard, and yet something about her simply belonged, as if she could melt into the background. Remembering himself, Sheik turned back to the grave before speaking. “What is strange, my lady?”

“Memories are strange, Sir Sheikah.” Sheik glanced back over, one eyebrow raised. Although a respectful form of address, he had never been referred to in this way. The woman was looking at him, a hint of a smile at the corners of her mouth.

“I fear I do not understand.”

“Will you play a song on your lyre?” She raised a hand, indicating the marker. Sheik’s other eyebrow joined its twin. The demeanor this person emitted did not match that of a mourner. Still, it would be impolite to refuse such a simple request. With a mental shrug, he reached behind his tabard.

“What song, my lady?”

“Something,” she paused, sparing a look at the overcast sky. “To welcome a brighter day, I think.” Sheik nodded, shifting his lyre to his left arm and considering. As the soft notes floated across the yard the woman closed her eyes and hummed along wordlessly, her voice blending with the harp strings seamlessly and lifting the simple melody to a level the warrior had never witnessed.

Singing fully, he noted despite himself, her voice could be the stuff of legends.

After a minute, she lifted her head and scanned the whole of the yard. “This place is full of memory, both happy and sad times past that will not come again. When the people visit they speak of the times of joy, but cry while they do so. The greater the happiness, the more profound the loss. And yet,” The woman smiled again, although it seemed sadder than before. “Not a single one would give up what they had before to save themselves the pain of after. The living cling to the past even when it cuts them. It is… strange.”

Red eyes calculated for a long moment. “Do you remember as well?”

Freckled shoulders shrugged. “Perhaps. Ask me again when we meet properly, and we’ll find out. I am sorry I couldn’t sing for you.”

Out of sheer confusion Sheik’s fingers stopped playing across the strings of his lyre. The woman covered her mouth with one hand and muffled what sounded suspiciously like a giggle. With her other arm she made a shooing motion. “Go on, they’re worried about you.”

Who could possibly be worried? Few enough people even knew who he was, save perhaps Impa, but he hadn’t seen her since the shadow temple when they spoke of –

Link.

The graveyard faded quickly, making way for the feel of clean blankets and the crisp smell of a clear, bright day.



Sheik woke once again on his stomach, a sense of deja-vu washing over him at the predicament. He somewhat sourly wondered if he would ever fall asleep normally or simply drop unconscious at random intervals for the rest of his days. Cracking an eye open, he surveyed the room, finding it empty of other life. Permitting himself a soft sigh, of relief or regret he did not know, he sat up, blankets pooling at his hips. His bandages had not been changed, he observed as he ran a hand across the white binds around his chest, meaning he had most likely only slept a few hours, long enough to change morning to afternoon.

A basin of fresh water sat at the foot of his bed, along with a bundle of cloth. Pulling the blankets aside, Sheik stood, satisfied when the movement only prompted a brief surge of lightheadedness. That could easily be accredited to malnourishment, an easy solution. Sitting gingerly down by the tub, he picked up a rag draped over the side and dipped it in the water. Red eyes briefly flickered to the closed door and curtained window before he reached up, sliding his cowl up and over his head and placing it to the side. A spot of blood had stained the bottom of the white cloth. He glowered at the imperfection, but he could not spend time cleaning it at the moment. Bending over the basin, he considered, his reflection blinking at him, before he plunged his entire head into the water. Pulling back, he gasped a little, then rubbed the cloth over his face, scrubbing furiously at his dripping hair with his fingers before dunking back in to rinse. Once satisfied with that, he couldn’t help the small chuckle that escaped him as he slicked his sopping blond bangs off his face. That felt better. Dousing the rag again, he began more subdued cleaning for the rest of his exposed skin, his mind wandering.

The events of a few hours ago flocked by his head with grim sincerity. He had said too much, but these things could not be taken back. He had inevitably made things worse, and caused more questions to be raised. But, something in him felt a tiny bit lighter at having finally apologized, even if Link did not know what it was for. His mind said leave, his instinct stay, and his heart...

...Well, it was not as if that one mattered anyway.

But the fact remained that the Sheikah warrior, for once in his life, was without a certain direction. So he washed, slowly and meticulously, until he was satisfied that he no longer smelled like graves, wolfos and blood. Turning away from the dirtied water, he unfolded the cloth bundle, which turned out to be a simple, but clean and untorn shirt, along with a pair of close-cut pants. The deliverer, Malon most likely, had also been thoughtful enough to find clothing in nearly the same blues as his uniform. With a mental note to hide extra rupees in with the milk money as soon as he was able, Sheik donned the new outfit, fidgeting at the baggy feel of the shirt, but grateful to be covered once more. Replacing his cowl and re-winding his untamable hair, he couldn’t help but feel a little more himself again. At the thought, he snorted aloud and walked over to retrieve his boots. He heard the light footsteps down the hallway and saw the combination of added shadow and blue light before the knock on the door sounded.

“Sheik? Are you awake?” The feminine alto drifted under the wood, a soft drawl hinting in the tone. Sliding his dirks in place quickly, Sheik walked to the door and opened it, nodding respectfully to the fair, slender redhead on the other side. In her hands was a tray practically overflowing with food, steaming eggs cooked in several different styles, what looked like both hot and cold meat dishes, fresh bread, milk, and a glass of something that suspiciously looked like red potion. Sheik stared for a moment, suddenly aware that he had not eaten in over a day, before remembering himself and stepping aside to admit the other into the room. An orb of light bounced in the air above the tray.

“Hey! We figured that you hadn’t eaten in a while but when we thought about it neither me or Malon knew what you liked so we just made everything we could think of at the time - oh, you got dressed, that’s good, are you still dizzy, Link said something about blood loss and I KNEW you weren’t supposed to be moving yet-”

“Navi, he probably only woke up.” Malon smiled ruefully at the fairy and set the tray on the dresser before turning and giving Sheik an once-over. Her eyes swept up and down, a hand planted on her hip and her lips pursing critically. “Really, the least the two of you could do is eat properly, you’re nearly falling out of your clothes.”

There was a silence for several seconds, in which red eyes blinked several times before finally softening. Sheik offered a shrug that managed to suggest a formal bow. “Apologies, Miss Malon, I will put my best effort into correcting the situation.” Despite having only met her twice to purchase supplies, Malon still treated the Sheikah warrior like a particularly rambunctious younger brother, and after proving herself utterly immune to his cold behavior he had given up trying to stop it. It was just her nature to treat everyone as family, just as it was his to remain formal.

The redhead surveyed him for several more seconds like a statue in farm skirts before breaking into a smile. “Well, you can start now, then. I admit, it’s much nicer seeing you up and around than the horse fodder you came in as.”

Sheik held in a wince at the reminder. “I have been an inconvenience to you and your ranch, I am sorry.” He dipped his head in a sincere gesture of apology. “If there is anything that may be-”

“Oh, don’t bother; you’ll hurt your neck.” Malon flapped a hand dismissively, rolling her eyes. “Like I’d take money from either of you. And-” Sheik suddenly found himself on the receiving end of a severe point, “If I find any extra rupees in the milk till, I’ll skin both your hides.” Navi flickered, a suppressed little snicker escaping despite her efforts to contain it.

Years of grueling training, conditioning, and combat had taught Sheik to know a losing battle when he saw one. “Yes, Miss Malon.”

Dropping her intimidating stance, Malon gave a cursory look around the room and nodded. “All right, well make sure you at least drink the potion, I have to finish putting up the vaults before supper.” She walked to the door and stopped, placing one hand on the frame as she looked at something invisible in the hallway. “Link’s out in the barn, got talked into working while he was here. I’m going to go tell him you’re awake when I walk over there.” She turned a little to the side and glanced at him. “Of course, my leg has been acting up since yesterday, so I’ll have to go slow. And maybe stop to rest a few times.” With a final, meaningful look, she exited the room. From his spot rooted to the floorboards, Sheik couldn’t help but notice there was nothing irregular in the steps as the skirts swished down the stairs.

“She doesn’t want you to go, but she said it was your decision. Then she muttered around about stubborn men and recluses for a while, and I kinda felt sorry for the bread dough she was beating.” Sheik’s motor skills finally unstuck enough to take the two paces to the dresser, Navi hovering over the tray. Not quite able to look the fairy in the eye, he instead tried to glower the glass of red potion out of his sight.

“…We all have to leave eventually, Navi.” After deciding the glass was not going to disappear he sighed and picked it up, giving Navi a pointed look. She huffed and turned around, her wings flickering.

“Yeah, but you don’t leave, you just… vanish. You know, deku nuts?”

Taking a breath, Sheik closed his eyes and yanked his mask down, drinking the entire potion in one gulp. Grimacing, he replaced the cloth over his mouth and tried to ignore the feeling of sludge dripping through his system. He probably had thirty seconds total, ten to make a decision. Not enough. He sighed and reached down, lifting his lyre off the floor. “Words don’t change what has to happen.”

Navi turned in the air in time to see Sheik shift the instrument, preparing to play. “I don’t see what’s so hard about a simple goodbye. And if you leave all this food Malon’ll make Link eat it.”

It was probably not the best sign that he could follow Navi’s jumping thought patterns so easily, Sheik mused. He reached out and shifted the tray so a corner touched his hip, then closed his eyes and listened to the soft hum vibrating through the harp strings. There was one melody he had yet to teach, one that couldn’t be followed.

As the warp song carried him off, his senses took note of several things at once, stacking them away in his mind. One was the heavy bootfalls thundering up the stairs as the room dissipated, along with a loud exclamation from Navi. The last was something subtle nagging at the corner of his mind as he played, something in the power of the harp that seemed…off. He couldn’t concentrate on it long, however, as the world made way for scalding heat and an endless plane of sand.