Commission fic for Anosrepasi on tumblr. <3 <3 In progress but at least it is in progress. My brain desired this to be a Majora's Mask fic but it's been too long since I played the game and certain things wouldn't fit like I wanted them.
~~~~~
~~~~~
~~~~~
Years ago, Link dreamed of a great castle, lost in darkness and lit only by two ghostly flames. He dreamed of two terrible witches and their awful laughter echoing through the night. He dreamed of a terror that he had never known and woke up gasping and shaking. Most of the terror faded away in the sunlight, but not all.
When the Great Deku Tree died, when Link left his home, when Link met those witches with their wild laughter, Link learned to fear his dreams. At first, everything frightened him. He ran into Hyrule Field not knowing its name and not knowing if he was going to die when his feet left the forest. He had to learn how to use his weapons, how to survive. His confidence grew with each victory, every new ability, until he could stand tall and fierce.
Except even after the witches fell and their laughter spiraled into eternal silence, Link still feared his dreams. Nothing compared to the terror of the dream, the horror of the Great Deku Tree dying soon afterwards with his final words describing the witches in Link’s dream, and the cold realization when those same witches confronted him outside of Hyrule Castle. His dream brought to horrific life. By then, Link was armed, thought he was ready, and he had been just as helpless in the waking world as he had been in his nightmare.
Thus when Link opened his eyes and found himself in a desert, that old terror gripped his heart. He instinctively reached for his sword but found no scabbard. No shield. No bow or weapon of any sort. He focused on his magic, gifted to him by the Great Fairies so long ago, but there was only a strange hollowness in his chest.
Link swallowed and looked around. His thoughts kept slipping from him like sand through his fingers; he couldn’t focus.
The Gerudo Desert. Unnatural clouds hovered overhead, casting the desert into shadow, but it didn’t matter: Link still recognized the endless golden sand. Where else could it be? Except it was in a part of the desert he didn’t recognize. He tried walking forward but it felt like the sand had seeped into his legs, into his bones, weighing him down.
Above him loomed a great monument, carved into a massive stone. Perhaps into a mountain. Link couldn’t tell from his angle. Some sort of figure stared down at him, but its face was lost in the shadow. It struck Link as familiar but he knew he hadn’t seen it before.
The sand rustled around him but Link couldn’t feel a breeze. The terror shifted into something colder, squeezing his lungs. A vague, awful horror, made all the more terrible for its familiarity. He heard nothing but it didn’t matter: Link knew something was behind him, could feel the heavy weight of its gaze. Automatically, he reached for his sword as he turned around. It felt like whatever weighed down his legs had snaked through him, slowing him down, and his back felt too bare, too vulnerable as he moved. His hand grasped at nothing.
The shadows grew, lengthening around him, darkening until the sands faded into nothing. It seemed to suck all of the air from Link’s lungs.
He couldn’t see what it was. It loomed over him, its burning red eyes the only light in Link’s world. Link’s hand froze, still reaching for his missing sword.
Those crimson eyes blazed brighter and brighter, fire sweeping over the desert. Link couldn’t even scream. The fire scorched the air, and Link thought he felt it lick at his skin --
Then Link jerked awake, gasping and reaching for his sword. His hands clutched the familiar scabbard, solid and real, and for a moment, Link held the hilt so tightly his hand hurt. Epona snorted beside him and stomped her foot. Above him, birds sang. Announcing it was morning. Singing that all was well. All was safe. The wind rustled the leaves around him, soft and soothing.
Right. Link had settled in the Kokiri Forest last night. Far from the Gerudo Desert. Link sat up and warily looked around, just in case those red eyes followed him into the waking world.
Of course it didn’t. Such dreams affected his world in a completely different way. Still, Link drank in how the sunlight streamed through the leaves, a gentle, lulling warmth compared to that awful fire. A squirrel nibbled on something several feet away. Epona went back to munching on grass, casually dismissing Link. In the distance, he could hear the song of the Lost Woods, relaxing in its familiarity. It always reminded him of Saria.
He huffed a breath and pulled his sword into his lap. Well. It seemed like it was time for him to visit the Gerudo Desert. The thought sent a faint thrill of that awful fear through him, but Link knew enough about such dreams to know he had little choice. Dreams sent by the Goddesses always found a way to come to life. It was better to go into the situation armed and prepared.
Epona bumped Link’s shoulder with her nose, almost sending him back to the ground. Link smiled a little and stroked her mane. Armed, prepared, and fed. They could take a small detour, visit Malon, and then head for the desert. Have Malon deliver a note to the castle on her next trip there. There was a chance if Link was having dreams, Princess Zelda was having them, too, but it was better to send notice.
Perhaps Malon’s singing would drive the last of that fear away. Or at least some of it. Even as Link gathered his things and prepared for another journey, he swore he could still feel those red eyes on him. The forest’s soft breeze couldn’t sweep away that lingering burn.
And of all things, he swore he could hear that ancient, mocking laughter mingling with the song of the Lost Woods.