Link ("yeet it or eat it") (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
skyglider) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
dreamcrystals2024-04-05 02:34 pm
skyglider) wrote in dreamcrystals2024-04-05 02:34 pm
Entry tags:
004 ⚘ dream recording
Sender: Link
To: everyone
Subject: passive dream recording
Warnings: TOTK spoilers
Home.
This is the place where your mind goes, inevitably, as you think of that one word, so small—four letters—and yet so encompassing. It nestles warmly in your chest like a hearty broth, and you think—yes, you could make a life like this. Here, with your arms solidly around her, your face buried in the golden curls of her hair, in the house—the home—you have both made, fortified by the losses you have overcome together.
You listen to her breath, slow and even, clearly sleeping soundly in your arms, and it's dizzying, the way you feel about it. About her. About all of this. There is another word for it, too, something warm and comfortable and terrifying all at once. That small, four-letter word that means you're forever bound, dedicated, that the mark she has left on you is one of permanence.
You have said the word before, but not like this, whispered into her shoulder like a prayer.
"Forever" is the part that sticks with you, in the thin moonlight filtering through the window. It means forever. Somehow that thought is calming, as you close your eyes.
—when you open them again, the word forever feels like a death sentence. It is the blade on the guillotine shining in the morning light. It is the last word uttered before the world dies. It is a weight heavy on your heart, and you think, if you could just protect her from this, if only you could hold her like this through the end of the world—
Your eyes adjust. Something has changed; the light of morning is too bright, the wind on your face is too strong—
Wind.
It's as if your heart tumbles out of your chest and shatters on the ground below, miles and miles below, and all at once, you realize where you are. The house in Hateno is little more than an inkblot on a page, so far down from where you sit.
The enormous dragon upon whose back you sit doesn't seem to care that you're there—or perhaps she doesn't notice. You are so small. The feeling that wells within you, on the other hand, is so big, so entirely all-encompassing, that there are no words or thoughts that could possibly contain it all. This hollow feeling within you, this devastating use of the word forever, it rocks you to your very core, and maybe if you weren't so wrung-out and reeling from the shock of it, you would have a tear left to shed. A shred of misery to spare for this moment.
You have none left. They've all been spent.
That same four-letter feeling twists in your chest, even now, and you wonder if it will hurt forever, if the word love will forever be synonymous with the heartache of loss. Because you still do, of course—you love her like this even as you mourn the loss of her, the version of her that still knew you and, you like to think, loved you too.
Cursing the star-crossed inevitability of fate, you bury your face in her hair once more, as she snakes mercilessly across the sky.
[fanart inspo for this post]
---
[action] for those who will
[Link has been asleep for one full month, and the first thing he feels when he finally wakes is the sting of unshed tears.
He knows before he fully wakes that his private thoughts and late-night misery have been broadcast. Something about the vividness of the dream, about the hollow feeling left in his chest when it's finished… It's hard to say, but he feels, bitterly, the stinging shame of exposure—not just for himself, but for Zelda, as well.
It's still dark; on shaky legs, he slips out of the treehouse and onto the roof, using the glider to take him as far from home as it can in one go. He finds himself at the plaza, sitting at the edge of the fountain, idly dropping rocks into its still surface and watching the ripples pulse outward from the point of impact.]
To: everyone
Subject: passive dream recording
Warnings: TOTK spoilers
Home.
This is the place where your mind goes, inevitably, as you think of that one word, so small—four letters—and yet so encompassing. It nestles warmly in your chest like a hearty broth, and you think—yes, you could make a life like this. Here, with your arms solidly around her, your face buried in the golden curls of her hair, in the house—the home—you have both made, fortified by the losses you have overcome together.
You listen to her breath, slow and even, clearly sleeping soundly in your arms, and it's dizzying, the way you feel about it. About her. About all of this. There is another word for it, too, something warm and comfortable and terrifying all at once. That small, four-letter word that means you're forever bound, dedicated, that the mark she has left on you is one of permanence.
You have said the word before, but not like this, whispered into her shoulder like a prayer.
"Forever" is the part that sticks with you, in the thin moonlight filtering through the window. It means forever. Somehow that thought is calming, as you close your eyes.
—when you open them again, the word forever feels like a death sentence. It is the blade on the guillotine shining in the morning light. It is the last word uttered before the world dies. It is a weight heavy on your heart, and you think, if you could just protect her from this, if only you could hold her like this through the end of the world—
Your eyes adjust. Something has changed; the light of morning is too bright, the wind on your face is too strong—
Wind.
It's as if your heart tumbles out of your chest and shatters on the ground below, miles and miles below, and all at once, you realize where you are. The house in Hateno is little more than an inkblot on a page, so far down from where you sit.
The enormous dragon upon whose back you sit doesn't seem to care that you're there—or perhaps she doesn't notice. You are so small. The feeling that wells within you, on the other hand, is so big, so entirely all-encompassing, that there are no words or thoughts that could possibly contain it all. This hollow feeling within you, this devastating use of the word forever, it rocks you to your very core, and maybe if you weren't so wrung-out and reeling from the shock of it, you would have a tear left to shed. A shred of misery to spare for this moment.
You have none left. They've all been spent.
That same four-letter feeling twists in your chest, even now, and you wonder if it will hurt forever, if the word love will forever be synonymous with the heartache of loss. Because you still do, of course—you love her like this even as you mourn the loss of her, the version of her that still knew you and, you like to think, loved you too.
Cursing the star-crossed inevitability of fate, you bury your face in her hair once more, as she snakes mercilessly across the sky.
[fanart inspo for this post]
---
[action] for those who will
[Link has been asleep for one full month, and the first thing he feels when he finally wakes is the sting of unshed tears.
He knows before he fully wakes that his private thoughts and late-night misery have been broadcast. Something about the vividness of the dream, about the hollow feeling left in his chest when it's finished… It's hard to say, but he feels, bitterly, the stinging shame of exposure—not just for himself, but for Zelda, as well.
It's still dark; on shaky legs, he slips out of the treehouse and onto the roof, using the glider to take him as far from home as it can in one go. He finds himself at the plaza, sitting at the edge of the fountain, idly dropping rocks into its still surface and watching the ripples pulse outward from the point of impact.]
no subject
She hears him before she sees him move, a gravely voice calling her name. ]
Link...
[ He's awake. He's here. He's awake here, in Songerein, somehow, by some stroke of divine favor or sheer dumb luck. After so many dreamers woke, so many dear friends, Zelda was all but certain Link would be next.
But he's here. He's still here.
Link has just enough time to sit up while Zelda is still processing this realization before she bolts from the doorway and throws herself at him. ]
You're awake!
[ She throws her arms around Link and pulls him into a tight hug, half-standing, half-kneeling on his mattress, burying her face in the crook of his neck. It doesn't occur to her for a moment that she should probably be more gentle with him. The only thing on her mind is holding him as tightly as possible. ]
Thank the Goddess.. [ Her voice comes out muffled. ] I was starting to think you'd never wake.
no subject
He must have been asleep a long time.]
I'm sorry.
[For a moment, his thoughts return to their very first meeting here in this dream world, her frustration and overwhelm as she shouted at him, You're late!
He had been asleep too long then. And now again--]
I must've overslept.
[He speaks the words into her hair, his face buried against her, unwilling to let go.]
no subject
Just a bit.
[ He holds her tight and she lets him-- not just lets him, but welcomes him, her arms equally tight around him, nuzzling down into his neck and taking in the feel of him, the warmth of him, the smell of him. Home, he feels like home. ]
A month, approximately. [ Her voice may be muffled by his body, but he can probably feel the vibrations of her words against his neck. ] Not your worst, by any means- [ Not a century this time. ] But still far too long.
[ Far too long when their time left together might be far too short. But no amount of time would be enough. Even if she had the rest of her lifetime with Link, she would selfishly want another one. ]
no subject
He does not often feel it, in Reverein. That loss of time. Perhaps it should weigh on him more.]
Agreed, [he whispers against her, soft and thoughtful. A full month. It is far too long, indeed. It will always be far too long. So many days lost, so much time wasted away... No amount of time is enough, to be honest. Months and years could go by and still it would not be long enough, because nothing will ever be enough. Not with the future that awaits them. And yet, to take that time with the future hanging over their heads...
That, too, is exhausting.
Goddess help him, the thoughts in his head churn mercilessly, returning again and again to a truth he does not want to acknowledge. Link does not let go of her. In a way, this is almost poetic, that he refuses to be the one to let go. He has been described generously as tenacious, but he prefers to think of it as stubbornness: the unwillingness to let the future be set in stone. To let evil win. To say goodbye.
He tries to redirect his thoughts, to focus on anything other than where his own mind is going.] What did I miss?
[A question with a second meaning beneath the words: is she alright?]
no subject
Instead, she disentangles her arms and slides onto the bed beside him, folding her legs to the side and leaning in against Link with her full weight. Her nearest arm, she slips behind him, bracing herself with her hand against the mattress. ]
Much. [ And the hesitation in that single word answers his second question: I don't know.
Zelda takes a steadying breath. ] A number of dreamers woke while you were asleep.
Revali was among them. [ And that's where she leaves that explanation, because she knows Link knows what that means. ]
no subject
They had lost so much. Now they lose him again -- it may hurt less, by fractions, but it still hurts, and he wonders -- will there ever be a time when their lives are not marked by loss?]
I was glad to give him closure.
[They might have had even more than that, in another place and time. Could they have ever become friends, he and the Rito warrior? Whatever the case, he...he really was grateful to be able to look him in the eye and tell him the task was done. Their spirits could rest easily. Whatever the case, he was able to express, he hopes, that his victory was in part due to Revali's actions and his sacrifice.
Zelda puts her weight against him, and he feels her, her warmth, her solid presence. But she, too, is lost to him, and even if he did not think of it all the time --he does-- his dream served only as a reminder of that reality. Here only in dreams...
He wraps an arm around her, pulls her in close enough to plant a small kiss at her temple.]
no subject
It does hurt marginally less, losing Revali this time, but not by much. Knowing that waking from this dream means that his life ends makes her heart ache something fierce. She's glad that they were able to tell him how they defeated Calamity Ganon. She's glad she could tell him how Rito Village is flourishing, how Teba's son is someday going to shatter all of Revali's records. What Zelda wouldn't give to share such things with Mipha, Daruk, and Urbosa.
She makes a noise of affirmation against Link, but doesn't lift her head. Her thoughts aren't only of Revali. Somnus is gone as well, as is Trahearne, and the ends of their lives here also mean their deaths. It hurts, and Zelda has lost several nights since then sitting at the foot of Link's bed crying into a pillow, because at least his sleeping form is better than complete solitude.
And then, on the night she does finally manage to get some sleep, she dreams of Link's solitude --total, absolute, and utterly heartwrenching. His pain is so fresh on the surface of her mind that she feels like she's a hairtrigger away from being overwhelmed by it.
Zelda shifts her position in such a way that she is close enough to hear the steady thump of Link's heartbeat. The rhythm is soothing. ]
Have you been dreaming about it all this time? [ "It" being the Light Dragon.
Zelda has been trying, really, to find some measure of peace with the creature she will become. It was easier to chase when it was just a goal, nebulous, a means to an end. Seeing it, seeing it hurt and others hurt by it... Even though she is trying so hard to just live in the here and now, with whatever time she and Link have left, the dragon is always there, looming in the dark corners of her mind. Waiting, because eventually, the here and now will run into the future. And a future of solitude, now that she knows love with Link, is steadily becoming too unbearable to imagine. ]
no subject
It's thanks to Zelda, in part, that he was able to move past that.
The cycle becomes a reality. An opportunity; a means by which to know the incredible woman that Zelda has become. Strong, brave, kind -- the smartest person he has ever known. The one person in the world --in any world, he must acknowledge-- that he would lay down everything for. That he would live for.
A heavy weight settles on his heart, the understanding stoked like a small fire growing larger, becoming more real with each passing breath and moment. Her warmth seeps into him where their bodies meet and he knows, he understands, that the very thing he asked of her so many months ago is no longer enough. That he must let go in order to move forward. ...that he must move forward.]
I have, [is his response, whispered softly against her hair, but spoken with a sense of weight and finality that belies more -- belies the decision solidifying in his mind.
It's not a sudden decision so much as an inevitability, and while she may guess at what that decision is from his tone, he still owes it to her to speak it out loud.]
Zelda...
[It is just so very hard to know how to begin.]
no subject
But this time, it makes her stomach sour, settling in her gut like a stone. ]
What is it?
[ Her words come out small and hesitant, in a voice that says she knows that he's about to tell her something she does not want to hear.
(He is the one person in the world, in any world, that she would lay down everything for. That she would die for.
But it's easy to die for someone. It's so much harder to live for them after they're gone.) ]