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She was even more breathtaking in the dawn.
Glowing tendrils of light snaked up the horizon, the first sliver of the shimmering disc of the sun dyeing the lowest clouds in ruby and coral. Higher they were bathed in shades of lavender, violet and royal blue, the last of the stars twinkling above his head in darkness. The ink of the ocean bled into fire and gold that washed onto the shore and reflected in the thousand grains of sand. Petals tumbled across her shoulders as she stirred in her slumber, caught in hair the colour of marigolds. He brushed a stray strand from her face and let his fingertips linger there, drinking in her form with a thirst he felt he’d never slake.
Link rested his head in the small of her neck and breathed in deeply, the scent of hibiscus flowers and sweet spice washing over him like the tide. She trembled slightly in the breeze, which was not quite sun warmed just yet, and he wrapped his discarded shirt around her. He broke his gaze from her for just a moment to look across the beach where their clothes lay scattered, his sword and shield resting against the driftwood where they’d sat that evening. He did not quite believe it was real, and even now as the day broke it felt more like waking from a dream, soft and hazy. But here she was beside him, curled against his form, and he knew there was no dream he’d ever had that felt as raw and powerful as this.
A yawn, a gentle stretch, and a pair of warm brown eyes blinked open, their owner smiling softly as she saw Link was still by her side. He felt his cheeks flush red again as she giggled at his awestruck, ravenous stare. Only she could reduce him to this stuttering, cherry-faced mess, only she could unlace his armor and expose his vulnerable core underneath. He should find that terrifying, but the unspoken faith in her ran deep and strong, as did the urge to bear his soul. He didn’t want to hide behind bravado and forced courage any longer, he didn’t want to wear his wants and fears behind a mask of heroism. He just wanted her, he wanted to let her in every way he could, with every breath and heartbeat he had in him to give. Marin had awoken a hunger in him he never knew he had.
The kiss was uncertain, cautious and chaste, despite having shared so much more the night before. And then - as if both realised the other was just as willing - their lips crashed together again in a clumsier but more urgent kiss. She tasted of citrus and sea salt and he closed his eyes in bliss, so he could focus on nothing but sensation. He wanted to commit every inch of her to memory. Marin’s hands crept up his chest and laced themselves behind his head, teasing his coarse strawberry blonde hair through her fingers. When they finally broke apart, the sun had broken free of the distant horizon and cast its flames across the sky, a halo of gold and ginger around her head. They sat in comfortable silence for a while, watching the gulls circle the looming form of the Egg in the distance. He knew he could not delay his quest any longer, duty pulling at his heart which ached to stay here on the beach with her forever.
Link rose to his feet and began to retrieve his items of clothing, shaking sand from his new red tunic. Marin watched him wordlessly as he dressed, eyes shining with sadness. As he reached out to take his sword, she suddenly grabbed his arm and pulled him down toward her.
“Promise me something.”
“Anything.”
“Please never forget me. Please.”
“I could never,” he soothed, stroking her head with his free hand. “I’m almost done, Marin. I just have to wake the Wind Fish, and when the island is in peace, we’ll be free to do whatever we want. I can show you Hyrule, Holodrum, Labrynna, anywhere you want to go. We’ll travel forever, together, if you want.”
“I’d like that.” She forced a smile, but tears welled at the corners of her eyes and her voice wavered with a knowing sadness that made his soul throb. He planted a kiss on her forehead and, shrugging his sword and shield onto his back, began to trudge down the beach toward the stone monolith of Mount Tamaranch.
“Wait!” and he turned back again to look at her. “Link… I… I wanted to say…”
“Marin!” a loud, gruff voice bellowed. Marin scrambled for her dress, pulling it over herself before her father emerged from the path to Mabe. “There you are! When you didn’t come home last night, I worried tha-” he paused as he caught sight of Link and his disheveled attire. He felt himself blush again and stared at his boots. Tarin coughed and took his daughter's hand, furrowing his brow at Link. “Come on, breakfast is waiting.”
“Good luck at the Egg.” She smiled and dutifully followed her father up the path. Link watched until she had gone out of sight, and she too stole looks back at him over her shoulder. Somehow, he didn’t think that was what she had planned to say before Tarin interrupted her. He could feel the unspoken words in his heart and he knew he reciprocated. He loved her. Despite never knowing the feeling before, he had never been more certain of anything in his life. Giddy thoughts of showing her his beloved Hyrule, introducing her to Zelda, dancing at some summer ball with her in a gown of silk and ocean blue, raced through his head. With a renewed vigor in his step, he quickened his pace toward the Wind Fish, toward the end of this chapter of his life, and the beginning of a new one with the girl he loved.
━━━━━━。゜✿ฺ✿ฺ゜。━━━━━━
Legend blotted the smudged ink on his sleeve and wiped his eyes, closing his journal before any more tears could fall on its yellowed pages. The sunrise that greeted him as he raised his head was a pale imitation of the one from all those years ago, just like every dawn since that day. There would never be that much colour and light in the world again. After all, only in dreams could such beautiful things exist. His journal fell to his side and Legend curled his knees against his chest, hot, bitter tears running thick and fast down his cheeks. Gods and deities be damned, he’d have let that island rot into the nightmares if it meant he’d got just a few more days in her arms. His palms, slick with sweat, balled into fists and he angrily slammed them into the rock he sat on until his knuckles bled.
Then, as he screamed in frustration to the indigo sky, the cold of the wind turned warm. It wrapped himself around him like an embrace, and he stilled, breath heavy in his throat.
He could taste sea salt on his lips.
And for a moment, the sunrise lit him up in a halo of ginger and gold.