#time angst

[enjolras-out]

By Candlelight

Missing Scene from Sunset part 14 

OR

Pure self-indulgent angst because I HAVE NOT BEEN ABLE TO THINK ABOUT ANYTHING ELSE BUT THOSE HYRULE AND TIME PANELS FOR 12 HOURS and have no self control

(782 words)

Twilight turned his head restlessly on his pillow, dry, cracked lips mouthing silent words. White light flared again from Hyrule’s hands and before Time’s eyes Twilight stilled, his breath deepening and coming slightly easier.

Then Hyrule swayed and grabbed at the bedpost to hold himself up. Time crossed the room in an instant, gripping his shoulders from behind to steady him. Hyrule flinched, and Time was reminded for the thousandth time how little he understood the traveller’s limits.

“I’m fine,” Hyrule insisted, but his voice was weak. Dark circles ringed his eyes. “I can do this.” Time nodded, trying for a comforting smile, and gently steered Hyrule into the chair beside Twilight’s bed. It was impossible not to be worried when Hyrule didn’t even fight him, but only slumped over, gripping his hair with both hands, fingers digging into his scalp.

“I’m not giving up.”

“I know,” Time said softly, crouching down in front of Hyrule. “But you need to rest for a little bit now, okay? You can’t help Twilight if you collapse on us.” Hyrule’s eyes widened as he registered his hands trembling in the candlelight. Time wordlessly handed him one of the bottles of green potion from the table and watched as he obediently downed half of it.

“Hyrule,” Time began, then stopped. For Hyrule to take on the entire responsibility for Twilight’s life was so wrong. He was too young. They all were.

But that’s how it always is for us, I guess.

“How’s he doing?”

Hyrule rubbed roughly at his eyes. “He’s hanging in there. He’ll pull through. He has to.”

Oh goddesses. He’s trying to protect me. Time kept his voice determinedly gentle.

“Can you tell me the truth?”

Hyrule stared at him, shocked. “Time…”

“Please,” Time said quietly. “Please just tell me.”

Hyrule looked away, wrapping his arms tightly around himself. “I… I’ve never seen a wound like this. It doesn’t feel like an injury, more like… a shadow, tearing him apart from the inside. Something rotten and old and full of hate and… and sadness, Time. I keep trying to fight it out of him but it’s like it slips away from me and then creeps back up on us from behind…” He stopped, steadying his hitching breath as a shudder went through him, and looked up again, stubbornness blazing out of exhausted hazel eyes. “I’ve fought shadows before. I can do this.”

“I know you can,” Time told him, because he thought it was what Hyrule needed to hear. Then, as Hyrule managed a small, weary, determined smile, his eyelids drooping as if he was struggling to keep them open, Time wanted to take the words back, because what if he was wrong? What if what Hyrule needed, actually, was to be told that it was okay if he couldn’t? But Time couldn’t say that, couldn’t even admit it to himself as a possibility, because it wasn’t okay, it never could be.

Because without Hyrule and his absolute, reckless refusal to admit defeat, Twilight would already be dead.

Or worse than dead. What are you, shadow full of hate? What do you want from us?

Time shook his head to clear it. “Your Life spell is something else,” he murmured. “I’ve never felt anything so pure.”

Hyrule folded his arms on the table beside him and put his head down on them, as if he was too tired to hold it up anymore. “Holds life together.” His words were slightly slurred. “All the threads… in the right places…” His voice trailed off. “Not giving up,” he mumbled again.

Time straightened and turned back to the bed. Twilight lay so, so still. His tattoos stood out starkly against ashen skin. Time reached out to brush a strand of hair out of his eyes, though he knew Twilight wasn’t even aware of his presence.

There’s so much you still have to tell me.

By the time he looked back at Hyrule he was asleep with his head pillowed in his arms, his breathing deep and slow. Raw despair was etched across what could be seen of his face under his untidy hair. Time picked up one of the spare blankets and tucked it gently around the traveller’s shoulders. Usually so light a sleeper, Hyrule, completely exhausted, didn’t wake, but only nestled instinctively closer into the warmth.

This isn’t his responsibility. It’s mine. They all look to me as a leader. Sometimes, he thought, more than just a leader. Usually it moved him, when Wind or Twilight or even sometimes Wild looked at him as something closer to a father than anything Time himself had ever known. Now, that kind of trust just felt terrifying.

I can’t lose him. I can’t.

[myssamyss]

Wings and Horses Pt 1: Expecting

Summary: Because sometimes a family is you and your wife and the eight reincarnated versions of yourself across time that you picked up on your travels. The Hero of Time and Malon face marriage, pregnancy, loss, and happiness.  

Fits within the LU cannon (all credit for the universe to https://linkeduniverse.tumblr.com/), basically my headcanon about what was going on off-screen.

TW: Blood, loss

Part 1: Expecting

2 years before LU

Malon hummed a familiar tune while chopping greens to garnish dinner. It was the first day in many weeks that she hadn’t felt ill, and she was going to make the most of being out of bed. A queasy feeling still lingered deep in her middle, but she ignored it. She had been growing restless from all the rest. There was so much yet to do.

She glanced around the kitchen and smiled. It was a good thing they weren’t fancy folk, she thought to herself, as there weren’t any breakable heirlooms to put away. Maybe some of her husband’s weapons would need to find new homes somewhere higher up and out of reach. Of course, it would still be over a year before they had to worry much about that, she reminded herself gently.

She shook her head and giggled. She really was getting ahead of herself, wasn’t she? Still, she dreamed of when their kitchen would be filled with more laughing voices. She longed for little ones to gather around the well-worn wooden table while she made stew for more than just three people. Maybe even for five, six, or seven? Link hadn’t seemed opposed.

The back door opened with a familiar creak and Link strode into the kitchen. His good eye crinkled warmly as he beamed at her, crossing the room in a few large steps to gather her into a hug.

“How are you feeling, darling? Better?” he asked excitedly. “That smells delicious,” he added. He gently placed a hand over her abdomen. She stacked her hands firmly atop his, accentuating the small bump that had finally made its appearance a few weeks before.

“I think we’re doing good today,” she told him as she burrowed into his arms. “I might’ve finally convinced this little sweetheart to stop making me so sick, seems like they’re learning how to listen,” she joked.

Link chuckled in the back of his throat. “Please. Our kid? Listening? Doubtful.” He kissed the top of her head playfully.

Link smelled of sweet grass and horses and sweat. For a boy who didn’t have much experience with farming, her husband had settled into days on the ranch as if he’d never done anything else. Even the silent sadness that gripped him some nights was becoming further between, swept away by the loving years of their marriage. It was the perfect time for this child to come into their lives.

She beamed up at him. “Alright,” she said, “wash up, I’m almost done here, and could you grab my father and let him know soup’s gonna be- oh,” she stiffened and let out a small gasp of pain.

Link’s eye widened with concern, briskly moving his strong hands to hold her shoulders. “What?” he asked.

Malon took a few breaths and steadied herself against the counter. Then she brought a hand to her belly and laughed.

“Guess you were right. This kid’s gonna be a little punk,” she said affectionately.

Link let out his breath and smiled. Reassured, he wrapped her in another quick hug then left to get ready for dinner.

 As Malon dished out the soup, she was dismayed that her pain only grew more intense. At least the pain was more manageable than the nausea, she reminded herself. She could work through pain.

She turned to place the steaming soup bowls on the table and felt her head spin with the movement. She did her best to set the bowls down with care before sinking into the nearest chair. Her vision darkened for a moment. She felt her heart beating in her throat.

More water, she told herself, that’s what she needed. It shouldn’t come as any surprise that she was still a little woozy after being sick for so long. She hauled herself to her feet and finished setting the table.

Soon Malon, her father, and Link were taking their seats around the table. The last rays of the day’s sunlight were streaming into the cozy kitchen. Her father talked of business in town. Link complimented her stew. They all laughed as her father made a good-natured joke about Link’s cooking, which they had been subsisting on for the last few weeks that Malon had been unwell. The two men began to tease each other gently as she grew quiet.

Malon felt warm, as if she had taken too much drink. The pain inside of her was worsening. She felt her eyelids flutter closed. Then a sudden, stronger pain shot through her abdomen.

“Malon?” Link called out. His voice held a surprised concern. He sounded far away.

She wanted to reach out to him and calm him as she usually did, but she couldn’t find him in the sea of black that had overtaken her vision. She was falling. She barely felt the floor as she made impact.

“Malon!” Link yelled out again, full of fear. She heard his chair clatter to the ground.

“Talon, there’s blood, there’s blood here!” he shouted. “Malon, darling!”

She had never heard so much panic in his voice. He was shaking her shoulder.

Her father’s voice came next, sounding equally terrified. His words poured out rapidly.

“The doctor. You’ll have to ride to him,” Talon said.

“I’m not LEAVING her!! MALON!” her husband cried out as if in pain.

“Link! You’re far faster on a horse than I am. You must!”

“I-“ Link protested.

“GO. We need the doctor to stop the bleeding, you can’t help her!”

There was silence.

“Yes. Alright.” The words were short and steeled.

She heard the door slam. Then she lost consciousness.

***

Malon awoke in her bed. A deep fatigue and an aching pain gripped her. She struggled to open her eyes. Moonlight filtered in through her window.

She slowly turned her head to see Link sitting at her bedside.

His head hung in his hands.

“Link...” she struggled.

He glanced up. He tried to force his face into an encouraging smile, but she knew him too well. She had seen the depth of sorrow in his expression before he could conceal it.

“Malon, I love you,” he whispered as he reached out to comfort her. Silent tears began falling from his eye.

Malon wept.

[princelydelinquents]

Times emotional dilemma

Time lied awake starring at the stars for hours wondering thinking to himself In the eyes of everybody He was a hero but only he knew what his mishaps caused only he knew what his mistakes had cost everyone for him he lost friends and family but because of his mistakes other people had to suffer they were put in danger because of him in times eyes he was no hero he was a child ,a child who never got genuine love a child who was forced to grow up too quickly a child who had failed the world,the chosen one people would call him when they remembered what he did, but he was never chosen he was just a scared little kid just wanting to be loved .