Parents challenge (
fanfic100)
Title: An Offering of Seeds
Fandom: The Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time
Characters: Malon, her parents, and Zelda
Prompt: Parents
Word Count: 805
Rating: PG
Summary: Death comes on dun wings.
Author's Notes: A sad little story that's been bouncing around in my otherwise empty skull for the past few days. And, of course, I've updated my table of death.
Her mother died just as the grey ice began to melt from the tree branches.
The fever had come as the fall faded into the dreary days of winter, the cough as the first snow fell. She had waved it away at first, marching determinely into the cold to muck the stables and milk the cows, but the increasing ache in her bones slowed her steps until it was all she could do to stumble into the barn. She woke later and later in the day until she was sleeping through almost all of daylight. Her waves of crimson hair clung damply to her flushed forward, stringy and brittle. On good days she would sit up and carefully feed herself spoons of hot broth. On bad days her daughter poured tea down her parched throat. On the worst days her stomach rebelled and threw up anything she had eaten or drank until she retched bile.
When she could, she told stories of the heroes of the past and reminded her of the songs to her weary and worried daughter. Though to young to truely understand, her daughter listened eagerly, straining her ears desperately to catch every hissed word.
As time dripped by, the pain was washed away by unceasing sleepiness. She whispered farewell to her daughter and promised her love to her weeping husband.
Malon sang, then, in a cracking voice.
The news of a funeral rustled people out of hibernation. Across the fields they came to pay their respects, decked in their finest clothes which had to be hiked up to stay out of the pale dirt of the meadow. The royal family, followed by a parade of guards, appeared as well - the farm raised all of the horses for their highnesses and provided the milk drank by the princess herself.
The queen stood by the grave to speak, but Malon's eyes stared only at the golden child who stood so still. She inched away from her father, closer and closer to the other girl. The adults, crying and moaning, and the guards, bored and uncomfortable, could easily overlook Malon and she weaved her way to the other girl.
Malon's voice was timid, but she could not remain silent. "Please, could you say something for my mama?"
"What?" The princess had eyes like the blue skies of summer and skin flushed pink, even in the dullness of early spring. "Who are you? Are you the farm girl?"
"Please," Malon knew she was whining, her mother had told her not to whine, "You're so pretty - I know the goddesses will listen to you. You must say something! Please!"
"I must do nothing!" Zelda stamped her foot and the guards turned toward her; Malon was enveloped by the mourners as they moved to throw flower seeds onto the grave and though she reached for the princess, her small arms found only the folds of dresses of well-meaning, sympathetic women who hushed her cries.
-
The queen's illness rushed in with the speed and ferocity of storm clouds over the fields. It was done in a week.
Malong and her father attended the funeral and stood at the gates of Hyrule as the king and the princess led the procession to the grave yard. There was a feast after and gossiping in muted tones. Though it had been a year since her mother's passing and she had eight years of past to strengthen her, Malon could not shake her sadness and she wept into her father's new pants. Later, someone asked for a song, but the words were bitter in her mouth and she turned away and stood sullenly away from the crowd, only nibbling on the rich breads and steaming plates of meats.
Her father slept well that night, aided by the fine wine which had been graciously offered to the mourners, but Malon stayed awake at the window, despite the chores that awaited her come dawn. She heard rather than saw the approaching horse, but then, out of the blackness, came a flash of white. She lit a candle and flew down the stairs and out into the night, the frost on the grass burning her bare feet.
The stallion skidded to a halt and reared onto his hind legs. Malon flung her arms up to protect her face from the dark hooves, but saw through squinted eyes the rider toppled off, down to the ground. She grabbed the dangling reins, pulling the horse away, and then ran to huddled form on the ground. "Princess?"
"Forgive me," the princess babbled, her eyes red rimmed and bleary in the weak candle glow, "I didn't know what it was like. I was so cruel to you!" She sobbed into Malon's shoulder, her tears soaking to Malon's wool night gown.
Malon crooned to her until the guards came and a stern woman with red eyes of her own carried the princess away. She watched until her toes were frozen, then climbed back up the stairs and into her little bed.
Fandom: The Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time
Characters: Malon, her parents, and Zelda
Prompt: Parents
Word Count: 805
Rating: PG
Summary: Death comes on dun wings.
Author's Notes: A sad little story that's been bouncing around in my otherwise empty skull for the past few days. And, of course, I've updated my table of death.
Her mother died just as the grey ice began to melt from the tree branches.
The fever had come as the fall faded into the dreary days of winter, the cough as the first snow fell. She had waved it away at first, marching determinely into the cold to muck the stables and milk the cows, but the increasing ache in her bones slowed her steps until it was all she could do to stumble into the barn. She woke later and later in the day until she was sleeping through almost all of daylight. Her waves of crimson hair clung damply to her flushed forward, stringy and brittle. On good days she would sit up and carefully feed herself spoons of hot broth. On bad days her daughter poured tea down her parched throat. On the worst days her stomach rebelled and threw up anything she had eaten or drank until she retched bile.
When she could, she told stories of the heroes of the past and reminded her of the songs to her weary and worried daughter. Though to young to truely understand, her daughter listened eagerly, straining her ears desperately to catch every hissed word.
As time dripped by, the pain was washed away by unceasing sleepiness. She whispered farewell to her daughter and promised her love to her weeping husband.
Malon sang, then, in a cracking voice.
The news of a funeral rustled people out of hibernation. Across the fields they came to pay their respects, decked in their finest clothes which had to be hiked up to stay out of the pale dirt of the meadow. The royal family, followed by a parade of guards, appeared as well - the farm raised all of the horses for their highnesses and provided the milk drank by the princess herself.
The queen stood by the grave to speak, but Malon's eyes stared only at the golden child who stood so still. She inched away from her father, closer and closer to the other girl. The adults, crying and moaning, and the guards, bored and uncomfortable, could easily overlook Malon and she weaved her way to the other girl.
Malon's voice was timid, but she could not remain silent. "Please, could you say something for my mama?"
"What?" The princess had eyes like the blue skies of summer and skin flushed pink, even in the dullness of early spring. "Who are you? Are you the farm girl?"
"Please," Malon knew she was whining, her mother had told her not to whine, "You're so pretty - I know the goddesses will listen to you. You must say something! Please!"
"I must do nothing!" Zelda stamped her foot and the guards turned toward her; Malon was enveloped by the mourners as they moved to throw flower seeds onto the grave and though she reached for the princess, her small arms found only the folds of dresses of well-meaning, sympathetic women who hushed her cries.
-
The queen's illness rushed in with the speed and ferocity of storm clouds over the fields. It was done in a week.
Malong and her father attended the funeral and stood at the gates of Hyrule as the king and the princess led the procession to the grave yard. There was a feast after and gossiping in muted tones. Though it had been a year since her mother's passing and she had eight years of past to strengthen her, Malon could not shake her sadness and she wept into her father's new pants. Later, someone asked for a song, but the words were bitter in her mouth and she turned away and stood sullenly away from the crowd, only nibbling on the rich breads and steaming plates of meats.
Her father slept well that night, aided by the fine wine which had been graciously offered to the mourners, but Malon stayed awake at the window, despite the chores that awaited her come dawn. She heard rather than saw the approaching horse, but then, out of the blackness, came a flash of white. She lit a candle and flew down the stairs and out into the night, the frost on the grass burning her bare feet.
The stallion skidded to a halt and reared onto his hind legs. Malon flung her arms up to protect her face from the dark hooves, but saw through squinted eyes the rider toppled off, down to the ground. She grabbed the dangling reins, pulling the horse away, and then ran to huddled form on the ground. "Princess?"
"Forgive me," the princess babbled, her eyes red rimmed and bleary in the weak candle glow, "I didn't know what it was like. I was so cruel to you!" She sobbed into Malon's shoulder, her tears soaking to Malon's wool night gown.
Malon crooned to her until the guards came and a stern woman with red eyes of her own carried the princess away. She watched until her toes were frozen, then climbed back up the stairs and into her little bed.