February Eve
ZD District Attorney
- Joined
- Mar 21, 2010
- Location
- USA
Thanks to my internet outage that lasted most of the day, I had time to write this. By coincidence, it's about another fairy. I wanted to give it a title that didn't have the word "tale" in it, but the pun was too good to resist. Maybe I'll do a fairy series or something. 
Rated G.
Fairies had a natural affinity for children. Adults took things too seriously – so what if their cow inexplicably turned up in an underground hole? She and Tael were always careful to make sure it had plenty of grass, and besides, the cows thanked them for making life interesting. So in the end, the only ones bothered by their pranks were the adults, who needed to learn to look at the humorous side of life anyway. Actually, she and Tael were doing them a favor.
That’s why she and her brother got along so well with Skull Kid, at least at first. In a different way, it was also why Link had been one of their targets – he was a kid, too, but he was more like an adult the way he looked so serious. So the Skull Kid had made him a deku scrub, because who couldn’t have fun in that form? As for the pony – they’d just discovered another secret hole in the woods, and she was sure that had been what Skull Kid had in mind when he “got rid of her.”
But they’d run into that salesman right before seeing Link, and Skull Kid had liked the colors of that freaky mask. He never stole, really, he just borrowed. But something weird had happened when he put it on. Tael knew it first – he’d tried to warn her, but she’d convinced him that Skull Kid was just play acting. She felt bad for that later.
It was one of the ironies of life that it was Link’s serious side she was extremely grateful for right now, as he held his cool despite it seeming like the world would end that moment. That seriousness, combined with the fact that he was still as fearless as a child should be, was probably why he had been so well-suited for the challenges of his quest. It almost seemed there was something else about him; not that she would ever know, as perhaps he didn't know himself. And even if he did, he didn’t answer most of her questions.
It couldn’t be easy for him, and not just the battles. She’d asked him once how he felt when he used the transformation masks – he always looked like he was screaming when it happened. But he just shrugged in response. When she pressed him, he said he felt like himself, but she noticed he acted different. When he was a Goron he acted like he somehow had a bigger burden on his shoulders than even needing to save the world would bring. When he was a Zora he looked he always had a lingering regret. His Deku form was closest to his real personality – like he was facing the trials of an adult way too soon.
It was that adult side that had gotten him into trouble so many times over the course of their journey. Normal people, when faced with a task of saving the world, would make that their foremost priority. But he'd stopped and talked to people – more than he had to her sometimes, which was annoying. When she finally got over that, she realized she was learning more about him by watching him than she would have by his talking to her, anyway.
He remembered people. When he got that bird-mask, she didn’t remember that pale guy at the ranch who owned the baby chicks. She was more concerned with the fact that the moon looked close enough to eat her as an appetizer. She’d wanted him to play the song of time, but instead he went to the ranch and marched around until the chicks had become roosters and made the pale guy happy. That was Link – he’d risk the entire world to fulfill one person’s dream. It should have frustrated her, but the more time she spent with him, the more she'd come to admire that about him. He wasn’t content with acceptable losses. He wanted as perfect an ending as he could get.
Even if it seemed it would cost him his own happiness – as they'd traveled, the more she'd worried about his own welfare than about others’, or even her own. It wasn’t just the physical struggles, but the emotional. He wasn’t like her – those first three days, before they’d gotten the ocarina back, she’d panicked during the final hour. She’d cried out to the goddess of time, and for one egotistical moment, thought she’d been answered when she found herself back to the day that she’d first met Link. But she hadn’t been the one blessed by the goddess. That was her first clue that Link was someone special.
They’d seen the final day many times since then, though he’d never waited as long as he had now before resetting time. Even though it made her a little nervous to see how close he would push the limit, it was for their own sake more than anything. The more she saw the same people, stuck in their endless routine, the more desensitized she became. It wasn’t that she didn’t care, because she did. But she’d seen the future – or perhaps it was the past – in any case, she knew Link had helped them achieve their peace. In fact, sometimes she'd gotten angry on Link’s behalf that they didn’t remember his good deeds when he had to rewind time. She wanted to yell at them to cheer up, things would all work out in the end.
Link, on the other hand, had never failed to look upset on that last day that he had all the time in the world and yet still couldn’t help everyone by the final hour. In fact, to her astonishment, Link had helped that one couple out twice when he realized that it was impossible to make the boy’s mom and the postman happy at the same time. She’d tried to tell him that they’d be fine once the Skull Kid was stopped, but in one of the few responses he gave her, he said that they’d remember how they felt in a crisis and he didn’t want them to have any regrets.
She almost thought he considered himself a failure each time he was forced to play the song of time again. Which was another reason she wished he had skipped the sob stories and gone straight to each temple to free the giants – not that those had been any easier on him. She often wondered what kind of life he’d had before they met for him to have such confidence and skill with each obstacle they faced. Not to mention, he'd grown stronger with each battle he faced.
But he was only human. More than once she had seen him take a direct hit and go down, unable to get back up on his own. Thankfully her healing kin were nicer to him than she’d been at first. They'd agreed to accompany him and lent their power, unasked, whenever he needed it. Each time it had happened, though, she wondered why it was him fate had chosen for this burden. And in a twisted way, she was thankful at those moments that he was unable to hear her cry out as he fell. She'd scold him afterward to be more careful.
She would be the first to admit that he was braver than she was. The fact that he could get up and continue as if nothing had happened after those moments was proof. It was as if he had an extra store of courage beyond most people's.
Still, right now, as they watched the mask detach itself from the Skull Kid and pull the moon toward the earth by its own power, it wasn’t just fear for herself she felt. She’d known the mask was evil, but she’d never known exactly what they were facing until now - she'd always thought the Skull Kid had been behind it, and they could face him easily. But this was a strong, ancient evil. She was afraid that it would be too formidable a foe even for Link.
“Hurry! The song of time!” She shouted, feeling the same amount of panic as she had the first time she faced down the moon. There had to be another way.
But if Link was reluctant to play the song of time with even minor unfinished business, she should have known that he would never do it when an opportunity to fix things once and for all presented itself. And the look in his eyes this time was different than any of the other hours of reckoning. As Link stared at the multicolored path of light the mask had left behind, as if it had known Link would follow, his face was determined, even satisfied that his quest was almost finished.
“Don't tell me you're going up there...” she asked, knowing it was a rhetorical question. Still, it was one thing to face down the mask and the moon, and another to willingly walk straight into its grinning mouth, directly after it had threatened to consume them. “You can go alone!”
But Link wasn’t the only one to surprise her. “I’ll go,” her brother said, and she spun around to face him, sputtering in protest. Tael was not like Link, at least in one respect - as soon as the crisis was over, she knew she’d hear exactly what the previous three days had been like for him. But for the time being, all she knew was that she hadn’t been the only one changed by them.
“You’ve gotten stubborn. Just like someone else I know…” she said.
Still, the thought of Tael leaving to fight whatever waited for them at the end of that path gave her an idea of what had made Link the way he was. It wasn’t as if she didn’t trust Tael. But given a choice between putting her brother in danger and doing it herself, she’d always go herself and keep the ones she loved safe. She wondered how Link could do the same for a world of strangers who hadn’t even been kind to him at first, and who would never even know all he’d done for them.
The magnitude of the task ahead of them still scared her. But she realized it was the least she could do for him.
“I’ll go,” she said, and Link’s smile at her contained pride tinged with relief. It was hard to say what he thought of having her as a companion over their journey, but despite everything, she was glad to see that he wanted her to come with him.
She swallowed her fear and they moved into the light. Whatever happened, they’d finish the journey the same way they started. Together.
Rated G.
**************
Tatl's Tale
**************
Tatl's Tale
**************
Fairies had a natural affinity for children. Adults took things too seriously – so what if their cow inexplicably turned up in an underground hole? She and Tael were always careful to make sure it had plenty of grass, and besides, the cows thanked them for making life interesting. So in the end, the only ones bothered by their pranks were the adults, who needed to learn to look at the humorous side of life anyway. Actually, she and Tael were doing them a favor.
That’s why she and her brother got along so well with Skull Kid, at least at first. In a different way, it was also why Link had been one of their targets – he was a kid, too, but he was more like an adult the way he looked so serious. So the Skull Kid had made him a deku scrub, because who couldn’t have fun in that form? As for the pony – they’d just discovered another secret hole in the woods, and she was sure that had been what Skull Kid had in mind when he “got rid of her.”
But they’d run into that salesman right before seeing Link, and Skull Kid had liked the colors of that freaky mask. He never stole, really, he just borrowed. But something weird had happened when he put it on. Tael knew it first – he’d tried to warn her, but she’d convinced him that Skull Kid was just play acting. She felt bad for that later.
It was one of the ironies of life that it was Link’s serious side she was extremely grateful for right now, as he held his cool despite it seeming like the world would end that moment. That seriousness, combined with the fact that he was still as fearless as a child should be, was probably why he had been so well-suited for the challenges of his quest. It almost seemed there was something else about him; not that she would ever know, as perhaps he didn't know himself. And even if he did, he didn’t answer most of her questions.
It couldn’t be easy for him, and not just the battles. She’d asked him once how he felt when he used the transformation masks – he always looked like he was screaming when it happened. But he just shrugged in response. When she pressed him, he said he felt like himself, but she noticed he acted different. When he was a Goron he acted like he somehow had a bigger burden on his shoulders than even needing to save the world would bring. When he was a Zora he looked he always had a lingering regret. His Deku form was closest to his real personality – like he was facing the trials of an adult way too soon.
It was that adult side that had gotten him into trouble so many times over the course of their journey. Normal people, when faced with a task of saving the world, would make that their foremost priority. But he'd stopped and talked to people – more than he had to her sometimes, which was annoying. When she finally got over that, she realized she was learning more about him by watching him than she would have by his talking to her, anyway.
He remembered people. When he got that bird-mask, she didn’t remember that pale guy at the ranch who owned the baby chicks. She was more concerned with the fact that the moon looked close enough to eat her as an appetizer. She’d wanted him to play the song of time, but instead he went to the ranch and marched around until the chicks had become roosters and made the pale guy happy. That was Link – he’d risk the entire world to fulfill one person’s dream. It should have frustrated her, but the more time she spent with him, the more she'd come to admire that about him. He wasn’t content with acceptable losses. He wanted as perfect an ending as he could get.
Even if it seemed it would cost him his own happiness – as they'd traveled, the more she'd worried about his own welfare than about others’, or even her own. It wasn’t just the physical struggles, but the emotional. He wasn’t like her – those first three days, before they’d gotten the ocarina back, she’d panicked during the final hour. She’d cried out to the goddess of time, and for one egotistical moment, thought she’d been answered when she found herself back to the day that she’d first met Link. But she hadn’t been the one blessed by the goddess. That was her first clue that Link was someone special.
They’d seen the final day many times since then, though he’d never waited as long as he had now before resetting time. Even though it made her a little nervous to see how close he would push the limit, it was for their own sake more than anything. The more she saw the same people, stuck in their endless routine, the more desensitized she became. It wasn’t that she didn’t care, because she did. But she’d seen the future – or perhaps it was the past – in any case, she knew Link had helped them achieve their peace. In fact, sometimes she'd gotten angry on Link’s behalf that they didn’t remember his good deeds when he had to rewind time. She wanted to yell at them to cheer up, things would all work out in the end.
Link, on the other hand, had never failed to look upset on that last day that he had all the time in the world and yet still couldn’t help everyone by the final hour. In fact, to her astonishment, Link had helped that one couple out twice when he realized that it was impossible to make the boy’s mom and the postman happy at the same time. She’d tried to tell him that they’d be fine once the Skull Kid was stopped, but in one of the few responses he gave her, he said that they’d remember how they felt in a crisis and he didn’t want them to have any regrets.
She almost thought he considered himself a failure each time he was forced to play the song of time again. Which was another reason she wished he had skipped the sob stories and gone straight to each temple to free the giants – not that those had been any easier on him. She often wondered what kind of life he’d had before they met for him to have such confidence and skill with each obstacle they faced. Not to mention, he'd grown stronger with each battle he faced.
But he was only human. More than once she had seen him take a direct hit and go down, unable to get back up on his own. Thankfully her healing kin were nicer to him than she’d been at first. They'd agreed to accompany him and lent their power, unasked, whenever he needed it. Each time it had happened, though, she wondered why it was him fate had chosen for this burden. And in a twisted way, she was thankful at those moments that he was unable to hear her cry out as he fell. She'd scold him afterward to be more careful.
She would be the first to admit that he was braver than she was. The fact that he could get up and continue as if nothing had happened after those moments was proof. It was as if he had an extra store of courage beyond most people's.
Still, right now, as they watched the mask detach itself from the Skull Kid and pull the moon toward the earth by its own power, it wasn’t just fear for herself she felt. She’d known the mask was evil, but she’d never known exactly what they were facing until now - she'd always thought the Skull Kid had been behind it, and they could face him easily. But this was a strong, ancient evil. She was afraid that it would be too formidable a foe even for Link.
“Hurry! The song of time!” She shouted, feeling the same amount of panic as she had the first time she faced down the moon. There had to be another way.
But if Link was reluctant to play the song of time with even minor unfinished business, she should have known that he would never do it when an opportunity to fix things once and for all presented itself. And the look in his eyes this time was different than any of the other hours of reckoning. As Link stared at the multicolored path of light the mask had left behind, as if it had known Link would follow, his face was determined, even satisfied that his quest was almost finished.
“Don't tell me you're going up there...” she asked, knowing it was a rhetorical question. Still, it was one thing to face down the mask and the moon, and another to willingly walk straight into its grinning mouth, directly after it had threatened to consume them. “You can go alone!”
But Link wasn’t the only one to surprise her. “I’ll go,” her brother said, and she spun around to face him, sputtering in protest. Tael was not like Link, at least in one respect - as soon as the crisis was over, she knew she’d hear exactly what the previous three days had been like for him. But for the time being, all she knew was that she hadn’t been the only one changed by them.
“You’ve gotten stubborn. Just like someone else I know…” she said.
Still, the thought of Tael leaving to fight whatever waited for them at the end of that path gave her an idea of what had made Link the way he was. It wasn’t as if she didn’t trust Tael. But given a choice between putting her brother in danger and doing it herself, she’d always go herself and keep the ones she loved safe. She wondered how Link could do the same for a world of strangers who hadn’t even been kind to him at first, and who would never even know all he’d done for them.
The magnitude of the task ahead of them still scared her. But she realized it was the least she could do for him.
“I’ll go,” she said, and Link’s smile at her contained pride tinged with relief. It was hard to say what he thought of having her as a companion over their journey, but despite everything, she was glad to see that he wanted her to come with him.
She swallowed her fear and they moved into the light. Whatever happened, they’d finish the journey the same way they started. Together.
