A story for the miz Feral-Ice-Magician! (gonna be lazy and c/p her request post lol)
Fandom: Zelda MM
Paring: Kafei x (older) Link
Words: Birthday, Hyrule, Triforce, Song of Storms, Ocarina of Time and Fierce Deity's Mask
A/N: Stealing the duo-turned-trio from the previous two stories! This is a darker story than the previous two (ah, I knew it would happen) So if you're looking for fluff - uh, sorry? ^^;;
Totally not beta'ed lolololol


"Make it rain, Dad!"

Link smiled as he raised the Ocarina to his lips, fingers moving to the correct position. Anya was wearing one of his old tunics - one he'd gotten ages ago, bought on a whim to wear or simply hold and recall the days before time had been set right - eyes going half-mast as he blew into the instrument. Though the day was clear and sunny a low rumble of thunder could be heard moment before clouds formed and swelled, the blond taking two steps back to stand in the doorway of the house just before the sky unleashed its load.

Anya squealed, laughing as he ran across the wet grass, the tunic more of a dress on her even with the belt tied at the waist to keep it from flapping around too much. Putting the Ocarina away Link crossed his arms and leaned against the doorway as he watched her play, Link - the dog that Kafei had gotten for the girl and named after the hero who had saved her father years ago - went bolting out on short legs, yipping and running around the violet-haired girl.

The days like this were plenty; warm, lazy days with naught but play on the agenda. With Kafei running his woodwork shop in town Link often found himself looking after Anya, who had accepted him as a parental figure the moment her father explained Link's presence in their life. "Your father's going to kill me," Link called out as Anju got tangled in the tunic and fell into a roll, snatching up the yipping dog as she did so with a laugh.

"No he won't!" She called back, apparently uncaring to the grass and mud clinging to her. The summoned rain was already starting to clear up, leaving a freshness behind that made Link draw a deep breath. "Next week's my birthday and you have to live until then!"

"Oh, so you can get your presents?"

The answering grin made Link chuckle. "Alright you, come on for a bath. You too, Link."

"But Daaaaaaaaaad!"

A stern look had Anya heave herself up with a long-suffering sigh, trudging into the house with the dog on her heels. The trail left behind the pair was only cut off when then entered the washroom and Link went to tend to the mess he could at the moment, a mop and bucket taking care of it.

And perhaps, while Link was dipping the muddy mop into the bucket, he thought he heard a whisper in the back of his mind, like a shadow. And perhaps, as he ran the mop over the muddy floor the back of his left hand felt warmer than usual. It was all things that he couldn't pay attention to - not when he had a new life and family to tend to.


Clock Town was getting smaller. At least, that's the way it seemed as Link walked with Kafei and Anya through the market square. Thanks to the walls that were its protection it had no room to grow out, only up.

"Dad, Daddy! Can I have this?"

Link forced his mind back to attention though as Kafei replied the blond's thoughts drifted once again. When had everything gotten so - small? So congested? So suffocating?

You don't belong here.

"-irthday. What do you think?"

"That sounds fair," Link replied, making Anya whoop and Kafei smile. He hadn't heard all of the question but it was rare that the purple-haired man opposed his daughter. It helped that she was a good kid, if energetic.

These aren't our people. We belong out there, in the world, When was the last time you rode with no goal in mind? When was the last time you left the protective walls of this foolish town?

Swallowing down the doubts creeping through his mind Link tried to focus on his family and smile, laugh and speak when appropriate. That didn't make the dark, mocking voice in the back of his mind quiet, nor did it cool the burning at the back of his left hand.


"Link, can we talk?"

Pausing where he had been pulling off the white linen shirt he wore that day Link finished the motion before turning to Kafei. The expressive red eyes were fixed down on the bed between them and a coil of dread curled at the pit of his stomach. If Kafei couldn't meet his face then it had to be serious. "Of course. What is it?"

Kafei folded his arms over his chest and the dread grew, Link's mind racing ahead. He knows. Had Link been talking in his sleep? Did Kafei notice when placed his right hand over the back of the other without looking at it, the staring at the tall walls of Clock Town, the way Link's head would tilt as if listening to someone who wasn't there?

Kafei hesitated, took a breath and looked up to meet Link's gaze, arms tucking more tightly against himself. "It's been over two weeks since we've done more than just sleep in bed," he said with eyes gone auburn. "Is it something I've done?"

The relief that ran over Link was nearly as strong as the disgust that came with it - a feeling, Link told himself, that was not his own. "Has it really been so long?" Link said, bare feet silent as he walked around the bed. "I might have been waiting to see how long it would be before you jumped me."

Kafei watched his approach with wary eyes though his arms did drop for their defensive position. "Really? And that's all?"

Look at the fool, a voice deeper and darker than Link's own sneered. He doesn't have a clue.

"That and I know how hard you've been working at the shop," Link said, ignoring the snide words. "And waiting the second night of your week-long vacation means that you're rested enough to handle this."

There was little conversation exchanged between the two for quite some time after that, unless one counted gasps of 'Oh, Link' and 'Please, please, please.' After more than an hour of touching, tasting and teasing the pair collapsed, panting and sated, Link wrapping an arm around Kafei's shoulders and Kafei winding an arm around his waist and return, murmuring quiet words of love before drifting off.

Link stayed up for ages afterwards, the dark voice that never quite went away lately murmuring its own quiet words of pain, the first rays of morning light peering through the bedroom window before Link finally drifted off.


For the first time in three years, Link stood in front of The Chest.

The Chest was where he had put away all of his gear from his hero days, from tunics and boots to grapples and arrows. Anya often went in to pull out the clothing and accessories on top (she favored the blue tunic and his worn, finger-less gloves, often wearing both and finding a stick to wield to fend off imaginary monsters).

What Link wanted wasn't on top with the three colored tunics, though. Checking the time to make sure he still had plenty of time to repack and decorate for Anya's party Link pulled out the tunics, the gauntlet, the gadgets and weapons. He took items out until only a wooden box was left, reaching for that, too, to remove. As his fingers gripped the box the back of Link's left hand burned as if dipped in scolding water,blond ignoring the pain to take the box and move to the bed, sitting down with it on his lap.

Looking down at the usually faded triangle markings carved onto the lid Link saw that the marks were glowing, the brightness causing him to squint. His left hand, when he turned it to grip the lid of the box, had its own matching tattoo, visible when normally it was as unblemished as the rest of his skin. His hand burned but the dark voice was unusually silent as the blond gripped the once-sealed lid and lifted, revealing the item inside.

Black eyes from a caramel face looked up at him, the mask inside quiet and still. The moment it came into view the burning of his left hand stopped and Link paused, studying the painted features.

The mask was unremarkable, really - a tan face with red markings along the eyes, darker ones at the center of the forehead. When Link had asked Kafei if he remembered the state of the moon back then his lover had cocked his head at Link, slowly shaking his head before asking if he was well. The mask before him was proof of the events that took place back then; proof that Majora had been defeated and the world returned to its proper state.

Reaching inside Link picked up the mask, staring at the blank eyes before flipping it over. Unlike the other masks he had gathered - all but the one in hand lost just before the final battle - this one was made to fit whoever wore it, be they child or adult. Link had only worn it once and decided on that day that it would never see the light of day again, for the evil that was trapped inside could bend the mind.

"Why have I been hearing you?" Links voice was low, hardly a whispers, left hand turning the mask back and forth to watch it devour the light. "Why have you been whispering to me these last months?"

There was no answer from the mask though the burning be starting up in the hand that held it, the Triforce glowing in dull pulses. Link knew what he needed to do to get the answer he sought, yet he hesitated. What if it was all in his head, all along? What if he was just going crazy?

The burning had become almost unbearable when Link raised the mask to his face, the force of power within all but welding it to his skin.

Link was doused in flames.


With the slowness of a duckling first taking to water, pale eyes opened.

He was standing in an unfamiliar room that would have been perfectly tidy, were it not for the sword, clothes and weapons set on the ground around a chest. Looking down at himself the deity-turned-flesh ran a hand along his new body, pleased with the feel of his familiar tunic and tights against his skin. He was whole once more and wouldn't let the whims of a hapless mortal lose him his freedom ever again.

Booted feet walked to the door, snapping the bow laid out with a satisfaction that warmed his blood. He had no need for the petty toys that the hero had used-

Pausing in the doorway the deity turned, fishing through the mind he had taken over for the information he sought. Swift steps brought him to the dresser, pulling out the drawer that held the palm-sized, blue instrument and taking it with him as he left the house.

As the deity made his way out into the sunlight and headed for the northern exit his left hand warmed, a faint, pulsing fluttered that could have been imagination. He knew what it was and ignored it; with the hero suppressed in the back of his mind the power in the Triforce of Courage had no hold over him.

The sky was different than it had been countless ages ago, when he fought Majora. Bringing the Ocarina to his lips the deity blew a tune that the hero rarely used, summoning the faithful steed with ease. He paid no attention to the faint clawing, screaming voice that whispered in the back of his mind, nor the worries of some frail violet-haired man and a near clone of a child. They were of no concern to him.

When the horse rode up and the deity reached out she spooked, whinnying and skirting to the right. "It's alright- Epona," the deity said, drawing the name from memories not his own. "Sh, come girl."

A gentle hand, it seemed, did have its benefits. Swinging onto the steed's back the deity turned her towards the forest, heading in the direction the hero had come from years ago. I should thank you for cleaning up the mess left by others before me. The deity sent the thought to the tiny ball of pain and anguish in the back of his mind, humming a song he'd heard a Skull Kid play on a flute aloud. It will be so much easier to conquer its people.

With the steady clop of hooves and the self-made melody on his heels the deity headed for the land of Hyrule, not once casting a glance back at the town the captured hero had settled his life in.