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ghirahimbo · 3 years

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"2. Suddenly pulling them in for a dance." - Ghiralink, perhaps? (Sorry incase that's not really your thing anymore! Feel free to pick another ship <3)

Yeah… yeah, that’s still my thing T-T lol, thanks for the prompt! This one was fun 😊

Post-canon, vague master/sword AU, ghiralink-ish

—

The spirit maiden danced with a grace befitting her divine origins, little though Ghirahim liked to admit it. Moving so lightly through the lively steps that her feet might have been floating, he could almost believe that she still bore Hylia's feathered wings on her back, tucked somewhere outside of physical sight. Link danced like a log in comparison—though on second appraisal, Ghirahim had to give him more credit than that. The boy wasn't stomping on Zelda’s toes, after all, unlike Fledge dancing nearby with poor Karane. Link's style consisted of accuracy without artistry, though with enough enthusiasm to almost make up for it. How odd that all his light-footedness seemed reserved for the more violent dance of swords, where he moved nimbly enough to keep even Ghirahim on his toes… a nod to his true calling, perhaps?

Privately savoring the notion, Ghirahim lounged against the wall of a newly erected building, only half noticing the wary looks he received as he watched the festivities unfold. These Skyloftians-turned-surface dwellers still feared him, despite the months he had served already as their hero's sword—a primal fear, perhaps, unless that fool Groose had secretly run off at the mouth. Link and Zelda had agreed from the start that certain aspects of Ghirahim’s past were best kept hidden, his previous master and role in Zelda’s disappearance highest among them. He had certainly not done anything overtly threatening to the residents of this tiny, budding village—and yet, they feared him.

The whole situation fell well beneath his notice, though he’d caught Link frowning over it more than once. Link was frowning at him now, Ghirahim realized, directing it over Zelda’s shoulder as they turned in sync, and he met it with a scornful expression of his own. What had Link expected him to do here tonight? Mingle?

The music finally paused as the lively song wound to its end, prompting the dancing couples to bow and switch partners (in Karane’s case with remarkable alacrity). Link leaned in towards Zelda, whispering something in her ear before vanishing into the milling throng, and Ghirahim half raised an eyebrow. Likely he'd just gone for more food, though Link might have finally tired of this tedious celebration. Compared to the more demonic gatherings Ghirahim knew, this less raucous human affair contained a disappointing (if expected) lack of bloodshed—though of course, those had often erupted haphazardly in the throes of battles won. Not like this one, which commemorated nothing more than the laboriously slow growth of food and its eventual harvest.

Another song started up, slower than the last but no less cheerful. Fledge had moved on to his next victim, some girl in a bandana and horrifically flared pants whose name Ghirahim had never bothered to learn. Zelda had produced a harp, wandering to join the musicians with plucked out harmonies that flowed from her fingers with ease, and Link…

Ghirahim frowned when Link’s bobbing green hat still had not emerged among the dancers. The food tables remained conspicuously absent of green, as well. If Link thought he could escape on his own while leaving Ghirahim here waiting—

A hand grabbed his arm, pulling him from his perch by the wall, and if he hadn’t had that hand memorized from the hundreds of times it had gripped his hilt, Ghirahim might have expressed his surprise in regrettably drastic fashion. Instead he let it pull him through the crowd until they reached their apparent destination, and it slid down his arm to grasp his own blackened hand, while another reached up to rest lightly on his shoulder.

Ghirahim blinked. Link smiled blandly up at him.

"Care to dance?" he asked, a bit too late for etiquette's sake considering that the dance had already started. Link's cheeks shone pink from the exertion of tromping around with Zelda, and his messy hair, mercifully absent the hat that always covered it, felt deceitful in how easily it had disguised his presence. Sweat clung to the base of those dark blonde locks—the reason for the hat's removal?

Ghirahim's legs moved automatically through the simple steps as he considered his young master, who made a brave attempt at leading with that unfortunate portion of his usual grace.

"Presumptive of you," he murmured, just loud enough to be heard over the din of laughter and music. "Any particular motive for such impertinence?"

Link had the nerve to look confused.

"You like to dance," he said, as if that was answer enough. Perhaps it was. Link wore his cheerful naiveté like a cloak sometimes, and even Ghirahim couldn't always sort out how much of it was real, and how much artifice. "Someone had to ask you?"

The hint of a question?

A number of potential reactions ran through Ghirahim's mind, considered and discarded in quick succession. He could extract himself easily enough, leaving Link clutching nothing but vanishing diamonds. He could also stand stubbornly still, refuse to dance, and let Link discover just how easily he could drag around a sword that didn't want to move. He could reject Link quietly—dramatically—at knifepoint, even—but…

A quick glance around revealed their audience. Though most had the sense not to stare openly, nearly every couple surrounding them shared the same nervous, almost scandalized smile, as if they feared the consequence of making their amusement too obvious. The spirit maiden in particular watched him closely, keeping a pointed eye on him over her harp though her lips shared the same bland smile as Link.

There would be no consequence, of course—Ghirahim wouldn't risk this precarious arrangement with Link simply to save face in front of some humans—yet neither could he let anyone think him scared off by something as innocuous as an invitation to dance. The steps themselves were straightforward enough, easily gleaned through his brief time spent observing… and as Link had pointed out, he did enjoy it.

His lips curved into a grin.

"I accept your request," Ghirahim said, and the moment Link started to relax, added, "but I will not be led."

Link's eyes barely had the chance to widen before Ghirahim spun him around, reversing the position of their hands.

Backpedaling to match Ghirahim's smooth advance, Link's startled face swiveled between watching Ghirahim and his own two feet in a desperate attempt to avoid being trampled. Lack of practice in this secondary role made him even less sure of his steps than before, though Ghirahim managed to steer them without incident through the greater pattern of dancing couples, humming in amusement as Link fought with surprise against an unexpected dip backwards.

"Come now, Link, have I ever allowed you to wield me with so little poise?" he hissed, the tip of his tongue whipping out mockingly as he raised Link back up. "If you favor only my sword with your attempts at finesse, I will begin to be jealous of myself."

Face red now from more than mere exertion, Link opened his mouth as if to protest—and closed it again, his lips forming a thin line of determination. An abrupt change swept over him, as drastic as if a switch had been pressed, and his stance shifted along with his center of gravity. Back straight with just a hint of fluidity, eyes blazing with the same defiance that had caught Ghirahim’s interest from the very start, Link danced, the superior reflexes he showed in battle at last made manifest.

Ghirahim's own eyes glowed. So Link had finally remembered that he held a sword.

"You've been holding out on me," he whispered, uncertain if Link could hear him or not. Experimentally, he directed Link with a light hint of pressure through a gliding spin, and found him as responsive an opponent as ever. "I should punish you for that."

Except that Link had held out on the spirit maiden first, and only for Ghirahim revealed his true potential. There was a pattern to that, he decided, glancing once more at Zelda and relishing in her look of surprise. Her chosen hero could never have defeated Demise without trying himself again and again on Ghirahim's sword first, and he hoped at times that his necessity haunted her.

The music picked up in pace and volume, the steps coming quick and intense. Link said nothing—he never did in the midst of battle, as silent as stone and just as unyielding—but perspiration broke out in beads along his face, trailing down the edge of his jaw. His hair swept and stuck in strange patterns across his forehead, disheveled but not wholly unappealing. Link might still have lacked a certain flair to his movements, too direct and to the point for Ghirahim's taste… but style could be taught. Idly, Ghirahim considered other dances he might teach this man if he was amenable, of perhaps less wholesome origins—dances whose quick, subtle movements pushed the bounds of even his own abilities, requiring strength in muscles Link likely didn't know existed. What was a dance without challenge, after all… without something a little more physical?

For now they moved through this tamer dance of Hylia's people, both withdrawing and rejoining as the pattern of steps demanded. The outer world fell away as their attention narrowed in on small details—the clash of eyes and brush of skin—blue on black and flushed tan on cool, steely gray—

And the music ended in a moment of silence that rang out unexpectedly. Laughing chatter burst to life, as abrupt as it was unwelcome, and the spell between them broke. Panting, looking slightly dazed, Link gave Ghirahim a bow that he returned with almost his usual smoothness, convincing himself that he had not been nearly so affected.

"Satisfied?" he asked softly, with the hint of a smirk—and was taken aback by the positively sly look Link gave him in response.

“Well…”

Brushing his hands together and placing them on his hips, Link gave a show of looking around meaningfully, and only then did Ghirahim realize how the tenor of the voices surrounding them had changed. Those glances sent his way felt more curious now than wary, and the bubble of instinctive fear surrounding him had all but vanished—his presence made human in their eyes at last by his part in the harvest dance.

"It's a start," Link decided, wiping sweat from his brow and settling his pointed green hat at a jaunty angle on his head. "I’m done dancing for the night, but you keep going if you want. You looked like you were having fun.”

With a wink, he turned to leave, and Ghirahim couldn't help but admire his exit. Link really was as conniving as any demon he’d ever met at times, though to completely different ends.

A nervous cough caught his attention, and he glanced down to see Fledge looking up at him anxiously. From the flurry of motion around them, it was time to switch partners for the next dance.

“U-um,” he managed to squeak out. His face, torn between pale white and deep red, had settled on both in splotches. “Everyone else is, so do you… I mean, are we supposed t-to…?”

Ghirahim snapped, leaving Fledge gaping at vanishing diamonds, and as he left caught the edges of Link's laughter. Conniving indeed, he thought, though at least in that as in so much else they were equally matched.

#writing prompts #ghiralink #ghirahim #my writing #I’ll probably post this to ao3 some time tonight

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lrissa · 3 years

Text

You’re Easier To Kick When You’re Kneeling.

summary: you and eren were both titan shifters, getting your ass beat in the court room by humanity’s strongest

warnings: violence, swearing,

✧ ೃ༄*ੈ✩

“Good luck!”

Where the last words Hanji spoke before shoving you and Eren into the court room. Tension penetrated the air as the Survey Corps gave hard glares to the Military Police.

Spinning around you saw everyone looking to you and Eren. Embarrassment and fear crawled through your nerves, gazing to Eren as he looked just as afraid.

“I’m scared..” You whispered to the brunette, he turned to look down at your lightly shaking physique.

“We’ll be fine.” He gave you a small smile, his eyes creased softly, he wished he could reach out and pat you on the shoulder.

Straining yours eyes forwards you bit down your tongue readying yourself mentally. You noticed two long metal pillars beside eachother, gulping.

“Step forward.” An office spoke as he shoved the barrel of a gun into Erens back. Urging him forwards forcefully, quickly you walked to catch up with him.

Two officers pushed you and Eren apart. Snapping your head to the brunette, he nodded his head to you calmly, his eyes gave you comfort as the man shoved you to your knees infront of the pole.

Together the men picked up the metal and ordered you to place your hands stretched behind you, doing so they let the pole fall back into place. Having you directly connected to the pole and squatted down.

You hung your head low as the hair on your shoulders fell forwards to conceal your face. Your eyes had dilated and your body shook. Fear. Worry. Anxiety.

A door opened followed by footsteps and a chair scraping across the stone as someone seated themselves. The judge.

“Well then, let us begin. Eren Jaeger and Y/N L/N, yes?” He’d adjust his glasses and stare at the small paper in his fingers before continuing. “You are soldiers, sworn to sacrifice your life for the public good. Is that correct?”

“Yes, sir.” Eren answered as he stared bug-eyed at the judge, “Yes, sir.” You repeated after Eren and tilted your head up.

“This is an exceptional situation. The tribunal will be held under military, not civilian, law. The final decision rests entirely in my hands.” The white haired man looked from the paper to us, “Your fate will be decided here. Do you have any objections.”

Looking to the floor you squeezed your eyes shut momentarily, opening them wide again. “No, sir.” You and Eren spoke simultaneously.

“I appreciate your perception. I will be direct. As anticipated, concealing your existence has proved impossible. We must make your existing public in some form, or a threat to humanity other than titans will arise. What I will decide today is which force will have custody of you.”

“The Military Police,”

“Or the Survey Corps?”

“Then, I ask the Military Police for their proposal.”

Your head shifted to the Military Police, watching as a man readied himself before speaking vibrantly.

“Yes, sir, I am Commander of the Military Police, Nile Dawk, I will present my proposal. After a thorough investigation of Eren and Y/N’s body, we believe they should be eliminated immediately.”

Your eyes expanded as he said this. This man hardly knew either of you, not a single fucking thing. Your eyebrows furrowed into a scowl while your hands contoured into fists.

“It’s certainly true that their titan power overcame our pervious peril. However, now their existence threatens to spark a civil war. So we ask them to die for humanity’s sake, leaving behind all information they can.” He finished

Your stomach churned as he spoke, did everyone seriously wish you dead?

“There is no need for that! They are an invasive pest! They have deceived the walls that embody Gods wisdom! They must be killed at once!” A preist yelled at the top of his lungs as he pointed to us with crazed eyes. Freak.

“Preist Nick. Order, please.” The judge calmly stated before shifting his attention to the right side.

“We’ll hear the Survey Corps’s proposal next.”

“Yes, sir. I, 13th Commander of the Survey Corps, Erwin Smith, will present my proposal. We would welcome Eren and Y/N as an official member of our forces, and use their power to retake Wall Maria... That is all.”

You stared at the Commander, that’s all. That’s all? Yours and Erens life were on the line and he couldn’t conjure up another defense statement.

“That’s all?” The judge questioned suspiciously.

“Yes, sir. With their power, we can retake Wall Maria. We believe it is clear what our priorities should be.”

“I see. And where do you plan to begin this mission”The judge stated, “Pixis, the Trost wall has been completely sealed, correct?” He added.

“Yes, it can never be opened again.” A bald man retorted.

“We would like to set out from Karanes, in the east. From there, we will proceed to Zhiganshina. We will determine the route as we go.” Erwin confidently spoke as he stared to the judge.

“Wait a minute!” shouted a man, whipping your head over, “Shouldn’t we seal all the wall gates once and for all? The Colossal Titan can only destroy the gates. If we can strengthen them, we needn’t endure further attacks!” His planned seemed smart but there where missing pieces and it would most likely be difficult to achieve.

“Shut up, merchant dog!”

“With those titan powers we can return to Wall Maria!”

“We can no longer indulge your delusions of grandeur!”

Argued two men as they yelled at one another from across the room, ‘So annoying’ you thought.

“You talk a lot, pig.” A dark voice rung throughout the court, turning your head up you spotted Levi. Behind his tough physique he was actually a bit funny.

“Where is your proof?” Levi continued, “that the titans will wait while we seal the gates? The ‘we’ you speak of are only those you wish to protect, your ‘friends’ who help line your pockets. The people who starve because there isn’t enough land to sow don’t even figure into the thoughts of you pig.” Levi finished as you stared at him with wide eyes, was he seriously protecting you from the Military Police?

“We just thought that we could survive by sealing the wall gates—“ The merchant began, “Silence!” Yelled the priest beside him as he slammed his hand on the railing, nearing the mans eyes. “Impious traitor! Mere humans altering Wall Rose, walls that were a gift from God? Can you truly see those walls? Gods work far beyond human capabilities, and not understand?”

The rest of his words drowned out as your mind took hold, thoughts of the future plundered your head as you squeezed your eyes shut.

The judges taps of his desk brought you back to reality and you snapped your head up, “Silence. You may discuss your personal philosophies and opinions elsewhere.”

“Jaeger, L/N. Can you continue to serve as a soldier, using your titan powers to benefit humanity?”

“Yes, I can!” Eren spoke clearly, the judges cold gaze shifting to you, “Yes, sir.”

“But the report on Trost’s defense says this... ‘Immediately after turning into a titan, Eren swung his fist at Mikasa Ackerman.’” You sucked in a breath and looked to Eren, his eyes extended as he looked to Mikasa. Of course, he doesn’t remember.

“Is Mikasa Ackerman present?”

“Yes, that’s me.”

“You are Ackerman? Is it true that, as a titan, Jaeger attacked you?” The old man questioned her.

You sighed softly, ‘As if he can control it yet’ you thought angrily in your mind.

“Yes, its true.”

Gasps of terror rung throughout the court, all eyes falling on Eren in a deathly glare.

“I knew it... He’s just another titan.”

“What about the girl!” Another protested as your head whipped to them, sending a glare to them.

“But, on two previous occasions, Eren saved my life in his titan form. The first time, mere seconds before a titan would have had me in its grasp, he stood between us, protecting me. The second time, he saved Armin and me from an HE shell. I would like these facts to be considered aswell.”

“I object,”

“I believe these comments are greatly colored by her personal feelings. At an early age, Mikasa Ackerman lost her parents and was taken in by the Jaeger household.” Well haven’t you done your homework, you pondered with a small frown.

“Our investigation had also revealed a surprising fact about the underlying events. At age nine, Eren Jaeger and Mikasa Ackerman killed three robbers who tried to kidnap her.”

More gasps could be heard as the news entered their ears, you shook your head. ‘What stupid fucking evidence to have, like they had a choice’ you considered furiously in your mind.

“Even if it was self defense, I must question their fundamental humanity. Is it right to entrust humanity’s fate, resources, and lives to him?”

Whispering and arguing broke out between the different sides, turning their heads to their fellow comrades to spew hatred. What a loss. Losing to this mans ugly mouth. You hung your head and sighed quietly.

“So is she. Do we know if we can trust her!” Referring to you as he pointed. “That’s right! Just to be safe we should dissect her too!” He looked to Mikasa next.

“Wait!” Yelled Eren and looked up to the man, “I may be a monster, but they have nothing to do with it! Nothing at all!” Eren defended as you watched, his spit flying from his mouth as he spoke from his soul. Your heart clenching in pitifulness as you frowned sadly.

“We can’t trust that!”

“It’s true!”

“If you’re covering for them, it means they’re one of you!”

“No!” He screamed and slammed his handcuffs against the metal pole, looking down in defeat, “I mean, you are wrong. But you’re simply coming up with theories that fit, whatever it suits you to fit.”

“Eren..” You said softly as you stared at him, your eyes in pain for him. He was so much braver than you and it gave you courage to see him so persistent.

Looking up you began to speak, “Besides, all of you people. You’ve never seen a titan! What are you so afraid of? What is your point if you do not have the power to fight? If you’re afraid to fight for humanity’s survival then, help us!” Your voice getting increasingly louder as you glared at the pathetic people who called themselves the Military Police.

“Just shut up and trust us!” You yelled your last statement and looked up to the judge, your chest panting heavily as you meant every word.

“Weapons ready!” The Commander of the Military Police shouted while his cadet set his gun on the railing and pointed it to you.

Until your face snapped to the right and pain shot through your nerves, your vision blurred instantly. Metal was all you tasted. A tooth had even managed to fall from your mouth and rolled onto the ground. You blinked to dimish the haziness and looked to your striker.

Levi Ackerman

“Huh?—“

His steel pointed boot slammed across your face again. Your back slamming against the pole behind you. Blood trickled down your nose and down to your chin, dropping onto the floor. Your blood had even splattered small droplets along the stone flooring.

Levi grabbed your collar and shoved you forwards to him. The handcuffs clanging against the pole as Levi stared down at you, his frigid glare locking eyes with your beaten ones before slamming his knee into the side of your head, sending it flying.

Pain. So much pain. It was burning you alive from the inside as all you could do was endure it. Tch, this guy’s a dick.

“Y/N!” Eren screamed from the opposite end. Hatred and worry evident in his tone as he struggled against his own cuffs, “Stop it!” Eren attempted again as all he could do was watch his friend get beaten to the brink of death.

Levi continued to sock you with his boot, giving you zero remorse as he beat the girl below him. Mikasa glared and got ready to jump the railing before Armin held her back.

Blood streamed down your face, a large puddle had began to form under you. You gasped for air before Levi lifted his leg high and stomped down on your head into the puddle of your demise. Grimacing at the filth and pain, all you did was lay there. If someone wasn’t looking hard enough, they’d assume you were already dead.

Croaks of pain left your body as his boot remained on your head, struggling to breath as blood trickled down your nose and into your mouth, unintentionally swallowing.

“This is a personal opinion. But I believe pain to be the best way to train someone. What you need is to be trained like a dog, not a man.”

Your rigid breathes left your mouth as you stared straight at Eren, his eyes meeting yours as he seemed to become visibly furious. Bruised and cuts tracked your once pretty, soft skin. Blood now coating all the crevices in your face.

“It’s easier to kick you while you’re kneeling, too.”

Levi lifted his boot and slammed it into the side of your head once again, giving you no time to breathe he stomped it back onto the cold ground again. Repeating his tourtue when he kicked your head all over again.

Strangled breaths was all you could muster, along with the rattling of the handcuffs as you were thrown around like trash, filling the silence of the fearful court room.

Kick. Kick, Kick.

All anyone could do was watch your doom, “Wait, Levi...”

Your head was pushed against the pole with his boot flat on your face as he turned his head to the one speaking, “What is it?”

His boot fell from your face as you hunched forwards, croaking as you gasped for air, blood trickling down the sides of your mouth.

“That’s dangerous... What if she gets angry and turns into a titan?”

You slowly tilted your head up to Levi, hair falling away from your face and resting on your shoulders. The raven head stared at you for a moment, then shoved his boot back onto your face and slamming it against the pole.

“What are you saying?” Levi dropped his leg again and gripped a fistful your hair, violently pulling you to his face as your eyes struggled to remain open from extreme bruising.

“Aren’t you going to dissect her?” He dropped your hair and stood straight, peering down to your defeated and beaten figure.

“When she turned into a titan last time, she killed twenty other titans before collapsing. If she is an enemy, her intelligence makes her a more formidable foe. Still no match for me, of course.”

Levi gazed to the Military Police, “But what will you do? Anyone persecuting her should also consider that fact. Do you really think you can kill her?” Levi spoke cooly as he stood infront of you, staring you down.

From afar you heard others speak, but your heartbeat clogged your ears as it deafened any other noise. Staring at Levi’s boots infront of you, you noted your blood coating the bottom before gently shutting your eyelids.

You could only hear Levi as he spoke from ahead of you, “I’m certain I can kill her. The only problem is I doubt I can do any less.” Levi proposed.

Hearing the pound of the desk above you, the judge made his decision. But you’d never make out what he proposed.

Footsteps stepped back from ahead of you as new ones came from behind you, uncuffing you and lifting the pole.

You tumbled forwards onto the unwelcoming ground, cautiously opening your eyes to the glaring sunlight that entered through the windows.

Eren ran to you, crouching down infront of you as you saw him shout words at you. He picked your head up in his hands and cradled you in his lap, checking for your pulse.

Your eyes began to shut again, your head lulling to the side to spot the raven head. Levi stared at you from afar, his arms crossed over his chest. The last thing you saw was the ravens dark gaze before your eyes rolled and all you saw was darkness.

be real, we all wish we were the ones being kicked

#aot x reader #levi heichou #levi ackerman #levi x reader #anime gif #aot imagines #aot fanfiction #aot #levi aot #levi imagine #levi x y/n #snk levi #snk anime #snk x reader #snk #attack on titan

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aurathian · 3 years

Text

My Hero

For @zelinkweek2021 day 3 Flight: Free Falling

Read it here on AO3!

“Hey! Get back here!”

Zelda sprinted after Link, bearing a toothy grin (well, as toothy as it could get, considering she was missing a few teeth) and waving a stick in the air. He was far quicker and much more nimble than her, leaping down nearly the entire flight of stairs leading from the Knight Academy to the Bazaar. She scurried down them, careful not to trip over her own feet and then the precarious folds in the rugs on the ground. Link’s foot caught on one of said folds and he stumbled just enough for her to reach out and almost graze his shoulder.

He lurched forward and rolled on the ground, dodging her fingers by an inch, before continuing to sprint. She groaned, fighting to not shout one of the bad words her father taught her to never say (even though she would watch his ink spill over his paper, and he would say one himself), and went as fast as her little, stubby legs could take her.

She was envious of the fact that he was faster than her, considering he was shorter by a few inches and younger by a few months. Teasing him about his height was one of her favorite pastimes, but she was the only one who could do it, given her protectiveness over her best friend Link. They’d been friends since they were fresh out of the womb, or so she’d been told by her father, and their bond was unbreakable. Whatever that meant.

Now that they were enrolled in the Knight Academy, they’d soon have less time to play, so they were together as much as they could possibly be, scrounging up their last moments of free time. That also brought some unwanted attention, namely that of Groose.

Groose was a pompous, snotty, drooling kid of about their same age, with a ridiculous hairdo he refused to change and a crush on Zelda herself. The boy never stopped picking on Link, which is where she developed her protective nature, but he also never stopped flirting with her. She was thankful she could hold her own ground, unlike her best friend, who happened to be a bit of a crybaby at times.

Link leaped down another flight of stairs and this time Zelda followed suit, landing square on her feet before taking after him again. She cornered him against the wall of the lighthouse on the side of the plaza, gasping for air and laughing.

Thrusting her stick forward and tapping him in the chest, she beamed triumphantly.

“You’re it!”

She took off toward the wooden deck at the edge of the plaza, the sound of his footsteps and laughter getting closer behind her.

“You’ll never catch me!” she taunted before diving off the deck. Her hope was that Link would dive after her and they’d call their Loftwings and chase each other in the sky, but then she had an idea. She’d prank him, make him worry for her, and not call her Loftwing. It would give him a real scare, she thought. So, she let herself fall, let the wind whip through her hair as she spread her arms and embraced the clouds.

What was taking him so long? There was no reason for him to not dive right after her. But then, finally, she heard his shrill whistle and prepared to sound off her own. She raised her fingers to her lips and—

A flash of crimson red swept her up into its feathers and scrawny arms tightened around her form, and she screwed her eyes shut as the wind battered against her face. Then, she was descending, slowly, softly, carefully, before finally being lifted off whatever had carried her.

She opened her eyes as she giggled, glancing up at the face of Link, who was red and sobbing and teary-eyed.

“Um, are you okay?” she asked as he set her down and cried a little more. Her giggles persisted until she realized he was seriously upset. Why didn’t he find it funny?

He opened his mouth to say something in that quiet, meek voice of his, but he was interrupted.

“I saw that!” someone yelled, followed by rushed footsteps. Groose stepped onto the scene, tall and intimidating, arms crossed and glare aimed at Link. “You were just gonna let her fall off the edge? You didn’t even try to go after her!”

“Groose, stop—”

“But Zelda, he let you fall!”

Link’s puppy-dog eyes zipped back and forth between the two of them, lips pursed and quivering. Then, another voice came.

“Just what is going on here?”

Zelda’s gaze rose upward slowly, climbing the large frame of the man in front of her now, eyes widening in horror.

Her father, headmaster of the Academy.

“Hello, father,” she mumbled.

“Zelda, care to expl—”

“Link let Zelda fall off the edge and waited forever to go save her!” Groose blurted, face almost as red as his hair.

Headmaster Gaepora sent Groose a sharp glare before calmly turning back to his daughter. “Zelda, care to explain what’s going on here?”

“Um… I…” She fiddled with her thumbs, eyes darting everywhere but her father, and burst into tears. “I’m sorry! It was a prank!” She buried her head in her hands as her father’s hand came to rest on her shoulder. “I thought it would be funny if I spooked Link and didn’t call for my bird. I thought he would just chase me, I didn’t know he would…” Glancing back at him, he was still a shaking, sobbing mess, but the redness in his face was gone. “I’m really sorry.”

“Don’t ever joke about falling off the edge again, Zelda,” her father scolded in a scary, stern tone. “Do you know what happens when you fall beneath the clouds?” She shook her head. “Exactly. And we don’t want to find out.”

“I’m sorry, father.”

“You should apologize to him, not me.” He nudged her to turn and face Link. “And after that, you’re going to your room for the rest of the day.”

“I’m sorry, Link,” she murmured. “Can you forgive me?”

He didn’t respond, only staring wordlessly as he wiped at the last of his tears and offered a weak smile.

“Come on now,” the headmaster coaxed. “Let’s go.”

And he led her away.

—

Zelda laid on her bed in her room at the Knight Academy, clutching a wood carving to her chest and staring at her ceiling as she listened to the quiet hums of Karane, her neighbor.

She held the carving up. Link had made it for her, and it was a vibrant blue, modeled after her Loftwing with edges he made sure were curved so she wouldn’t cut herself or get splinters. Normally it found its home atop her desk, but that night it rested over her heart as she thought of him and how horrible she felt for her prank.

A knock came at the door and she yelled for them to come in. It creaked open, and inside stepped Link. His cheeks were still puffy and his eyes were still red, but he was smiling nonetheless.

“Oh, hi, Link,” she greeted, putting the carving down on the blankets. “What are you doing here?”

He sat on the edge of her bed as she grabbed a pillow and crawled next to him.

“Look, I really am sorry. I didn’t know it would make you that upset.”

“It’s okay,” he whispered. His voice was raspy and quiet, one you had to strain to hear. Hearing him talk was rare, and Zelda revelled in every moment he did.

“Why were you crying so hard?”

He plopped down against the blankets on her bed. “I thought your bird wasn’t coming and you were gonna fall below the clouds and die.”

“I was just joking,” she reassured him.

“I know, but I didn’t think so. So I went after you. I was so scared.”

“Oh.”

Link scratched the back of his neck. “Groose really let me have it after you and your dad left,” he said. “Chased me around and everything. But I got away.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

Silence hung in the air between them, stifling and suffocating, until Zelda finally spoke up.

“Thank you for saving me,” she mumbled, a blush hinting at her cheeks. “You’re my hero.”

And she didn’t see it because she was too busy hiding her face in her pillow, but he blushed too.

#zelink week 2021 #zelink #skyward sword #link #zelda

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fanoftheages · 7 years

Text

lost love (is sweeter when it’s finally found)

pairing: Nezumi/Shion (No. 6)

words: 1,619

summary: Nezumi and Shion have found one another again, but the love they fought so hard to preserve is gone. Faced with having to make the choice, will they choose to try to find it again?

AO3 / MIX

Nezumi returns after a few years. Give or take. After a certain point, Shion stopped counting the days. Reunion would come, or it wouldn’t; either way, Shion couldn’t do anything about it. He turned his attentions to other priorities, time passed, and eventually, Nezumi was back again.

“I told you I never break a promise,” are his first words.

Shion is half-inclined to slap him, but chooses to kiss him instead. It’s been a long time, Shion has nearly forgotten what kissing Nezumi is like. He feels none of that reckless white-hot passion, but it is good to see Nezumi again, even with his infuriating smirk.

And so life goes on.

They move in together, of course. Karan nearly shoves him out the door, in fact, the moment she learns of Nezumi’s return. She helps him pack and passes sly comments of “young lovers reunited” and “needing privacy.” There’s nothing much else to be done about it. After all, isn’t this what they’ve been waiting all this time for?

Living together in close quarters isn’t nearly as maddening as either of them remember but… it has been some time. They’ve both grown, matured. Safu’s first words when she comes to greet them with a house-warming gift are, “It’s about time.” So that’s that.

Still, as time passes, they can’t help but feel like everything they thought they wanted together just isn’t fitting quite the way they imagined. Shion works in his mother’s bakery; Nezumi gets odd jobs here and there, never able to settle. Safu’s university is nearby, and Inukashi comes around when it pleases them. There’s camaraderie found, an easy routine.

But the love is gone. The love that was raised to life in the midst of desperate circumstances, whipped into heated passion by sacrifice and fear and frantic hope, has cooled. Wilted under the dredge of normality, with its obligations and chores and tedium.

Shion still doesn’t count the days, doesn’t know how time passes, but it does. The life they’ve found themselves in together begins to feel like a charade; they begin wonder why they’re keeping on with this.

They don’t say anything, though, not to each other. They rarely speak intimately anymore, just superficial small talk. At first, that was enough. Everything big and important had happened, they had found each other again; without the looming risk of any conversation being their last, they lost the practice of reaching deep inside for words that meant something.

But they wonder to themselves. Karan is planning to retire soon to the countryside, and Shion knows his presence would be hardly unwanted. Every other moment, Nezumi is tempted to just leave again, leave with no promise of return. There is nothing left to keep them together, why pretend otherwise?

One day, when it almost—almost—is too late, Nezumi comes home and finds Shion in the spare closet feeding a stray rat that he’s apparently named Sondheim and—it isn’t like punch, like all the breath leaving him at once. But he’s still left feeling stunned. He retreats before Shion can notice him.

The old love hasn’t blossomed forth, but Nezumi feels dizzy with nostalgia, with the memory of how fiercely he once loved this boy—young man, now—how viciously he fought for him. The memory aches in him, leaves him weeping, alone, in the shower that night. The love hasn’t returned, but he feels a flicker in his chest, and he tries to remember what that frantic hope had felt like. When he does, he clings to it and uses it to strengthen his resolve.

He left, once, what seems like a lifetime ago. To be “true” to himself, because he had been afraid of how strongly he loved Shion, how the heat of his desire had burned inside him. And he had left, with a promise and a reckless half-thought that somehow time could surely never steal away the strength of what he felt.

It hadn’t been a loss then, but it was turning into one. Nezumi remembers all those times he had feared he’d lost Shion, how much it had tortured him.

That fear is back, now. The love isn’t, still, but it’s not too late—or so Nezumi prays, even though he’s never been one to, but he does now—he can still save this.

Shion comes home from work the next day, and there’s a song playing on their little portable radio, and it sounds vaguely familiar. He can’t quite place it, but Nezumi is there, standing in the kitchen, holding it, with a smile that’s more smirk than anything. And Shion realizes it’s been a long time since he’s seen Nezumi smile at him like that.

Nezumi takes him to the edge of the city. He doesn’t say anything, and Shion doesn’t ask him. Nezumi is leading him with purpose, the eerily familiar melodies still spilling from the radio in his other hand. He tries to remember the last time he and Nezumi walked hand-in-hand like this. It was just last week, he recalls, but… he doesn’t think it felt like this. Nezumi’s grip is firm and searing, and Shion can’t bring himself to disturb their trek with gawky words.

They come to a park. Nezumi sets the radio down and pulls Shion into his arms. Shion is startled to find that he can look Nezumi in the eye now without having to tilt his head. He wants to make a joke about it, but Nezumi is leading him again, in circles, with his hand low on Shion’s back. His feet fall into place through a fog of memory as he settles his arm around Nezumi’s shoulder.

As their dance ends, something is unfurling in Shion’s gut. Not love, he doesn’t think, but the memory of it, and a deep aching loss. Nezumi’s hands are on him, still, and it’s so hot, even though he can see the breeze lifting through Nezumi’s hair. And his eyes—Shion wonders how he could have forgotten just how beautiful they were.

They’re standing so close already, Shion doesn’t realize Nezumi is leaning in until he’s kissing him. They do kiss, of course, frequently: when they leave for work, when they arrive home, when they meet for lunch. They kiss often, and this kiss is nothing spectacular, but it’s warm and makes something flutter in Shion’s chest.

When Nezumi leans away, something burns in Shion, and at first he suspects maybe it’s anger. But as he speaks—“Is that another promise?”—he realizes that it’s resignation. He thinks, as soon as he’s home, he’s calling his mother and letting her know that he will be going with her to the country.

Nezumi smirks that smile at him again. But there’s something else there, Shion can see it now, something sharp. Shion is seized with the urge to make his mouth bleed on that smile, but he pulls back, because Nezumi’s mouth is opening, he’s speaking—

“Yes,” Nezumi says. “But it’s a different kind of promise.”

Shion is left breathless, like he’s walking across that bridge again, anxiety twisting knots in his stomach, and he doesn’t know if he wants to hear what comes next. But he realizes that he has to—he needs to. So much has been unspoken between them since Nezumi returned, leaving a gaping maw of silence, and Shion needs it filled before he can go on.

“Last time, I promised only to return. Everything else, I assumed, was a given.” Nezumi’s words are stilted, like this is a speech he’s been practicing. “I was afraid then, and I’m afraid now, and it’s still because of you, but it’s different.”

His voice is dry, cracking, and Shion remembers that Nezumi used to sound so smooth, so suave. Shion had always been suspicious of that, but now he doesn’t know what to do with the rawness in Nezumi’s voice, doesn’t know what to do now that their positions are reversed.

“You needed me then, and I was afraid of that. I was afraid that… that I needed you, too. I left because I couldn’t face it. And I came back when I thought I was ready, but really, the fear was still there, I had just waited until I didn’t feel it so much anymore.

“But now I’m afraid again, and this time—this time I’m not going to run, I’m not going to make excuses. Back then, I was scared of what we could have. Now, I’m scared of what we could lose.”

“Then what—” Shion forces the words, doesn’t let himself look away from Nezumi’s eyes. “What are you promising?”

Nezumi looks at him, right back. Sometimes, in the past, Shion felt like Nezumi looked through him, more than at him. But Nezumi’s gaze is solid now, Shion can feel the weight of it in his bones.

“I’m promising that I’m going to love you again. Not in five minutes, or tomorrow, or five days, or maybe even a month—but one day, I will.”

Shion is ready to ask how the hell is distance going to help with that, when Nezumi says, “And I want you to be there for it.”

He steps back, extends his hand, and says, “I can’t bear the thought of a future where I don’t love you. So please, stay with me. Come with me. Let me learn how to love you again.”

Shion learned not to cry so easily over the years, and he doesn’t cry now. But he feels like something is bursting inside him. It’s not love, not yet, but he remembers this–the frantic hope that pushed them through before, the first time around.

He reaches out and takes Nezumi’s hand.

#fanfic #no. 6 #fic; no. 6 #nezumi/shion #fannish

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