Better Days
The evening sky was ablaze with vermillion as the sun began to slip beneath the horizon. Â His shirt long since discarded, Linkâs back dripped with sweat as he leaned against the stable wall, thoroughly exhausted from the dayâs work. Â Heâd risen that morning to see the sun rise from the eastern forests, and now that it had begun to set he felt the last of his strength leave him. Â It was strange, looking back, to think he had done so much more in a dayâs time when he was merely a boy. Â Perhaps his years spent adventuring were beginning to catch up to him.
After the horses and the cattle had been recalled to the safety of the stable for the evening, Link bolted the door behind him.  Ceri was likely inside with Talon, someone he was admittedly surprised enjoyed her company.  He had never put much weight into the phrase âopposites attractâ, but that had made him ponder it more seriously.
Sighing, he rubbed the back of his neck as he retrieved his shirt from where heâd haphazardly thrown it over the nearby washing line.  It was dry now, but the thought of adding a layer of clothing when it already felt like he was melting made Link want to claw at his face in disdain.  He hoped the night would bring cooler temperatures, or at the very least unconsciousness to distract him from how horrid his body felt at the moment.
As he turned to make his way back towards the ranch interior to collect his belongings, Malon surprised him.  She exited the very building heâd hoped to enter, shutting the door behind her.  She seemed as surprised to see him as he was to see her.  Had Talon not said she was out on a delivery?  Link could have slapped himself -- she had been out on a delivery.  The day was already over.
âHiya, Link,â she called, her expression unreadable. Â He waved at her, attempting a smile, and she casually made her way over with her hands shoved into the pockets of her dress. Â Had he been a stranger to her, he would have thought nothing of the gesture, but he knew Malon was as anxious as he was.
He could not fault her for the aversion she exhibited towards any sort of lengthy conversation with him. Â Their relationship had been strained for many years. Â Link could still recall the day he had explained to her his plans to join the royal army. Â She had pleaded with him, begged him not to. Â âHavenât you done enough for your kingdom already?â Â He hadnât been so sure.
Never once had she uttered the words, âI told you soâ, not even the day Impa had guided him, practically dragged him, barely alive and still bleeding despite his stitches to recuperate at the ranch in privacy.  She had never berated him, not while she washed his bandages by hand, nor while she dressed his wounds daily.  And to this day, Malon had never discussed the splinter that had been driven between them by his decision to leave.
She withdrew her hands from her pockets to nervously pick at her nails. Â âAre you leaving already?â Malon asked. Â He nodded slowly, and she sighed. Â âI thought you might say that. Â I... I donât suppose I could convince you to stay? Â Just for dinner, at the very least. Â You know we donât mind, and I know you used to love the stew that Dad and I make.â
Frowning, he pondered for a moment. Â Was there any real barrier that made him so inclined to refuse, other than the nervous knot of anxieties in the pit of his stomach? Â He took a deep breath, eyeing her face before signing slowly in response, Okay.
It was as if heâd told her the drought would end tomorrow, that the rains would come again with the rising sun. Â Her solemn expression broke into a smile, and she beamed up at him. Â âCome on, Dadâs just setting the table now,â said Malon, gesturing for him to follow her back inside. Â Though he had been singularly averse to it not moments before, Link found himself shrugging back into his discarded shirt. Â Something about attending dinner with Malon and her father still made him nervous.
She knew him so well. Â There werenât many foods that Link truly loved, but the stew was one of them. Â Talon had learned a long time ago what vegetables Link couldnât stomach, and somehow had discovered a way to prepare them differently, so the texture did not aggravate him quite so much. Â The kitchen smelled so wonderfully Link found his stomach growling the moment he entered the room, his previously forgotten hunger demanding to be satiated.
âLink, youâre joining us for dinner, I hear,â Talon exclaimed, glancing up from where he stood over the stove with a ladle. Â He nodded eagerly in response, following Malonâs lead as she began gathering the dishes and cutlery from the nearby cabinets. Â Ceri was sitting on the dining table already, and she seemed the most surprised by Linkâs lingering presence at the ranch.
There was a familiarity that he shared with Malon and Talon that made the ranch feel almost as much like home as his old lodgings in the Kokiri Forest. Â They had never asked why he did not speak, and though they were not as well-versed in sign language as he was, they knew enough for him to speak comfortably with them. Â Their kindness towards him always felt genuine, and as he ate supper with them that evening, Link thoroughly appreciated it.
Talon retired early for the evening, insisting he was âshatteredâ, which prompted Malon to insist it was no trouble at all.  âLink and I can tidy up in here,â she assured him, gently pushing him towards his bedroom.  âGo rest, I love you -- Iâll see you tomorrow, bright and early!â
With a deep chortle, Talon conceded to his daughterâs encouragement, and as the resulting silence fell Link felt the tips of his ears grow quite hot in embarrassment. Â Malon was clearly nervous herself, as she hurried to gather the empty plates and bowls. Â Distracted, she lost her balance over a loose cobblestone, and Link was nearly half a second too late to catch her and the dishes in time before she fell.
âBlasted floors, I keep telling Dad weâve got to fix it,â she muttered under her breath as Link helped her to her feet.  He was acutely aware that she was avoiding looking at his face as she stood up, bringing the dishes to the counter.  âIt would be the day you stay over that I trip over it, Iâm always saying I will and of course today is the day...â
She trailed off, taking a deep breath. Â She had paused in front of the wash basin, balancing herself on her hands where she gripped the counter top, as if she were afraid she might lose her balance once more.
âItâs funny,â said Malon, seemingly to no one in particular. Â âFor so many years, it was just Dad and I. Â And then you came along, and suddenly the ranch felt so much quieter without you. Â Weâve missed you, you know. Â Iâve missed you.â
She turned to face him, still leaning against the surface behind her now. Â âIs it... is it because of me?â Malon asked quietly, her voice barely above a whisper. Â âLink, if I... if there was anything I said, any lingering reason why youâve never stayed more than a day, I--â
Link interrupted her with a quick, urgently signed gesture. No. Â She looked at him, frowning, and he repeated himself. Â No. Â But in responding, Link realized -- too late -- he had incited a lull in the conversation that warranted an explanation. Â It was his turn to sigh, rubbing his face.
âWhy, then?â came her inevitable response. Â He hated to see her so emotional, and watching Malonâs eyes well up with tears caused his own throat to constrict. Â âYou used to spend entire months here. Â We used to fall asleep reading together, telling stories. Â Now I have to beg for you to stay for dinner. Â When did our friendship become so unbearable for you?â
Those last few words had hurt, almost physically. Â He hesitated, and in that one pause Malon found reason enough for the conversation to end, turning away in frustration. Â Sensing her distress, Link stepped forward, reaching to gently touch her hand, signalling to her that he did wish to speak to her. Â If only he could figure out how.
Sniffling, she turned to face him once more. Â He had her full attention now; best not to squander it. Â Taking a deep breath, Link began to move his hands -- slowly, deliberately, careful not to allow any misinterpretation to occur between the shortcomings of his words. Â Our friendship has never been unbearable. Â I was hiding from a past that was not your fault. Â It was rude of me to shut you out. Â I am sorry.
Malon stared at him for a long time, searching his face as if hoping for a change in expression, some confirmation that his words were merely in jest, as if it could alleviate the pain they both felt. Â When no such reaction came, she bit down on her lip, leaning her head against his chest. Â He felt the first tears fall against his shirt, and instinctively Link wrapped his arms around her, pulling her tightly against him as she unravelled.
âIâve missed you,â she whispered once more, clinging to Linkâs shirt. Â âYou donât know how much Iâve missed you.â
The tightness in his throat persisted as he held her, and had Linkâs hands been free he might have attempted to explain himself further, to elaborate on all the many reasons he had felt he could not stay in comfort as he once had. Â As Malon continued to hold him, he could only wonder at the many things he might have said to her, the condolences he might have offered... but even Link wasnât quite sure whom he was hiding from, not anymore.















