The Fear Landscape Series: Bilbo Baggins

Burning. Everywhere, everything, burning. Dying. The sky was dying, blue being swallowed up by black smoke. The grass was dying, being replaced by the flames themselves. Bilbo was dying, though whether by being cooked or by being melted, he wasn’t sure.
The smoke that pervaded his lungs tasted like ash and felt like flame. The fire that licked at his feet was so blinding to his senses that he couldn’t tell what it felt like at all. All he knew is that unless he could escape, this was the end of him. And Bilbo was positive he couldn’t escape.
Even as his mind fled from the strain, sirens blazed in it. He’d gotten carried away again. None of this was real. It was a simulation, forcing him to face his fears. This wasn’t real. Wasn’t real.
A lot of good knowing that did him. Even if he knew in his head that it wasn’t real, his body couldn’t seem to get the memo.
The fire raged on and the blaze grew higher around him. Bilbo’s eyes were forced shut and he wheezed and coughed trying to just get a little more air. The flames all around him were nothing compared to the buring on his insides, like he was a bomb just waiting to explode.
Calm down, calm down, calm down, calm down! As Bilbo focused on lowering his heart rate and regulating his breathing, the adrenaline associated with the very act raised instead of lowered it. He couldn’t do it. Couldn’t do it.
Calm down, Bilbo told himself. It’s not a choice. You don’t get to not do it. You have to calm down. Against all that his body screamed at him to do, Bilbo crouched down to the buring ground and curled into a tight ball. His face muscles relaxed and he worked to keep his breaths steady.
Soon he wouldn’t be able to breathe at all. And if he wasn’t through with the landscape by then, well, he wouldn’t be getting through the landscape. Bilbo relaxed.
And woke up in the dark. Slowly uncurling, Bilbo tested his eyes and his lungs. The fire was gone, as if it had never been. It wasn’t real. It had never been real.
But he wasn’t done yet. Bilbo stood and looked silently around. This was a forest. A dark, damp forest. And was that a… spider web? Yes, yes it was. A very large spider web. Which could only mean one thing. A spider.
Click, click. Bilbo’s hair stood on end. Click, click. The sound came from behind him. He had to act. Before it did.
Bilbo had only fought a spider once before, and he had been terrified. The only thing keeping him alive had been Sting. And he didn’t have Sting with him now. Or did he? Bilbo had control of the simulation. He could make Sting.
As the spider lept for him, Bilbo drew Sting from its sheathe, spun around, and ran the beast through.
The spider dropped to the ground, and the landscape changed. So fast that Bilbo couldn’t even follow the images, the forest morphed into a ledge. A tall, small ledge in the middle of nowhere with nothing around.
The fear of heights. Yes, Bilbo knew of this one. He knew this one was coming. And this time, that helped him prepare for it. He had control of the landscape.
Apparently the landscape didn’t like one of its fears not having an effect. While the land itself didn’t change, this time, the focus of the area shifted. The fear of heights had been easily conquered.
An unknown force threw Bilbo over the edge of the ledge and hurling down to the darkness below. Not knowing how far down the chasm went, Bilbo fell.
He closed his eyes. How far down was it? And… what was at the bottom? Water? Dirt? Rock? Lava? He had no way of knowing. No way of knowing what to expect or prepare for, no way of knowing how he would die.
The fear that gripped Bilbo suddenly was a different fear than most. The terror he’d experienced during the fire and the adrenaline during the spider was different from this. This was dread. This was the freezing up of his senses. This was a cold fist clutching his heart and pulling it down.
More than fire, more than spiders, more than being up high, Bilbo feared what he didn’t know. And he didn’t know a lot of things.
It didn’t matter, Bilbo reminded himself. It didn’t matter. It wasn’t even real. Not real. Not real. All he had to do to confront this fear was face it. Calm down. Breathe. What was the worst the unknown could throw at him?
Some really bad things, Bilbo argued.
But it didn’t have to be that way. Bilbo drew Sting again and clenched his teeth in determination. This he could take. Bilbo the Burglar would get through it. And with that decision, he was set free.
The blackness below him faded and the speed of his fall slowed. “What next,” Bilbo muttered, shutting his eyes.
Squinting one eye open, Bilbo took a peek at his new surroundings. Hobbiton? Yes, he was back in Hobbiton. It was a summer evening festival. What was he doing here? He wasn’t afraid of Hobbiton.
As long as the landscape was giving him a reprieve, Bilbo decided to enjoy the party. Recognizing one of the hobbits, he walked closer to the center. This would be easy. This would be fun.
“Hello, Tigerlily, Daisy,” Bilbo said with a slight bow. “Good evening, Till and Dimple.” Things weren’t going as Bilbo was expecting. None of these people were speaking to him. In fact, they all simply raised an eyebrow in disgust and moved awkwardly away. Didn’t he know them?
Bilbo didn’t understand. Wasn’t he one of the more respectable hobbits in the Shire? Why the sudden change of attitude? Now a hobbit he didn’t know approached him, and Bilbo got the impression this wasn’t going to be pleasant.
“Good evening, Bilbo Baggins,” stated the man. “If you would please find the white picket fence to your right, you will discover an exit. Very sorry, but as you have been known to conspire against the peace of Hobbiton, we have had to label you an official ‘disturber of the peace.’ Thank you for understanding. Have a good evening, sir.” With that, the man walked away.
Bilbo was shocked. A disturber of the peace? Him? But how could that be? Embarrassed, confused, and angry, Bilbo walked home. About halfway there, he stopped in his tracks.
He’d almost entirely forgotten. The simulation. This wasn’t real either. But why would the simulation go and make him a disturber of the… Wait. The simulation confronted you with your worst fears. What did that mean Bilbo feared? He hung his head in frustration with himself.
Social disgrace. He legitamately feared social disgrace. A few months ago maybe he wouldn’t have scoffed at that, but now, after meeting Thorin and Company and sleeping under the stars and seeing more of the world than he’d ever seen before, maybe things were different. Maybe he shouldn’t fear social awkwardness anymore.
With a smile on his face, Bilbo walked the rest of the way home, only to be filled with shock as he approached. The lights were on. And there were people inside. Who dared enter Bag End without his permission? Bilbo decided to do what a burglar does best… and not be seen.
Instead of walking right to the front door, Bilbo snuck around to the left side, the side with all the windows, and peeked into his sitting room. Was that—no, it couldn’t be! Surely they wouldn’t—yes, they would. With a sneaking suspicion that he knew what he was about to see, Bilbo took a peek at his large, newly painted green door. Yes, it was as he had feared.
The Sackville Bagginses had moved in. And as Bilbo had always thought they might do if they ever got hold of his house, they’d taken a large piece of wood and painted it with their name to hang on the door. It read, “Bag End, property of Lolebelia and Otho Sackville-Baggins.”
This was an outrage. An outrage! Under what authority had the Sackville-Bagginses take Bag End out from under him? If he hadn’t already been a disturber of the peace, Bilbo might have knocked on that large green door, with its new nail holes stuck over the fresh green paint.
As Bilbo stood in the dark on what should have been his own house, he noticed for the first time how much this all was affecting him. With good reason, of course, but he hadn’t expected his heart to rush off quite that quickly. Was he truly this scared of losing a house? Bilbo had never thought of it that way before, but he was. Scared of losing a house. What a thought.
Of course, this wasn’t just any house. This was Bag End, his family legacy! In the hands of the Sackville-Bagginses!
If this was only a simulation then he could do anything he wanted. Whether that door was locked or not, Bilbo could open it and face the Sackville-Bagginses. So he did.
Unlike what he’d envisioned–Otho getting up to deal with the intruder, Lolebelia screaming at the top of her lungs, there was nothing. No candles lit, no lanterns on. The house was just as Bilbo himself always kept it.
He smiled again. So the very act of opening the door had made the situation vanish. If only real life were the same.
But he wasn’t out of the simulation yet. Which meant that one more was going to take place in his very home. But his home he was surely not afraid of, surely! What did the simulation mean by it?
Even as he thought these things, time sped up. Through the window, the sun rose and set and rose and set over and over again, days, months, years passing by in only a second. Other hobbits were again coming uninvited to Bag End. But this time, for a very different reason.
An old hobbit, an old Bilbo, had been found lying dead in his bed that night, and the funeral preparations had to be done. Bilbo—the real, living Bilbo, apparently invisible in this time—was shocked. He didn’t look forward to death, this much it true, but he wasn’t really afraid of it either. Death was a natural part of life, and death in your own home, peacefully in your sleep, seemed like a good way to go.
So why was he breathing fast?
He was dropped off at the cemetery as the people of Hobbiton came to pay their respects. Of course one of his closer relatives would have to say something as well, about whatever he’d done in this version of his life. However, when a hobbit Bilbo had never seen before in his life stepped up and remained silent for a few awkwardly long seconds, Bilbo worried even more.
“Bilbo Baggins was a good, respectable hobbit. And like a good, respectable hobbit, Bilbo never had any adventures. Everyone knew exactly what he liked and how he thought.”
The hobbit continued on, but Bilbo had stopped following along. No adventures? Done nothing with his whole life? Gone nowhere, seen nothing? Just… nothing?
But it was true, wasn’t it, Bilbo thought, resting his thumb and forefinger on his nose. In all his pursuit of respectable hobbit behavior, Bilbo had forgotten to do anything. To live. He’d thought that the thirst for adventure that was close to his heart when we was a young hobbit lad had petered off and given way to respectable hobbit values, but apparently the thirst lay deeper in him than he’d feared.
And this version of Bilbo had conquered it, as the real Bilbo was always trying to do himself. Except, now that he saw it in living color, all said and done, Bilbo wasn’t so sure this really was what he wanted. Maybe he didn’t want to be respectable if it meant not seeing the world. He’d already conquered social disgrace. And how bad had it been, really?
Bilbo turned away from the solemn gathering, and walked out of the cemetery, and into the real world. Ori and Nori were on watch and Dwalin snored loudly next to him. Yep. This one was real, all right. He was on an adventure, a real adventure with a company of dwarves. He was already doing things with his life.
Bilbo had passed the simulation. Or had it all been just a simple dream?

A/N—I’m so sorry. I know this is about an hour and a half after it was supposed to be up, and it know it’s not at all the quality I would have wanted. I relied on being able to finish it last night, but when family of mine had problems, I ended up completely filling the day (and most of the night) with the unexpected. I’m very sorry.

 

The Fear Landscape Series: SS Link

Link opened his eyes on a grassy hill, the wind causing his tunic and pants to billow around him. As he stood, he started to lose his balance due to the heavy winds. Looking frantically around him, Link tried not to panic as he realized that this island in the sky was tiny, and huge clouds drifted all around. Reluctantly heading a few tentative steps closer to the edge, Link looked down.
As he stared into the bottomless pit that was the sky below, the Surface miles below him, he heard a voice in the back of his head. A memory. “A simulation. Not real. Control it. Confront your fears.”
Fake. This was fake. Link shut his eyes and breathed in deeply. He could take this.
A gust of wind howled and shoved Link off of the hillside. Looking down at the certain doom he was about to experience, Link screamed, but the wind snatched his voice away. Falling, falling. Frantically he called out for his lofting, Red, but he didn’t come.
The wind stung his eyes and they were forced shut, making it so that Link couldn’t even see around him or how close he was to the ground. Falling, falling.
Control your fear, Link ordered himself. Control it. Control it! Link attempted to breath in, but his air was snatched away. Falling, falling.His lungs burned and his eyes stung, and there was no way he could possibly survive this.
What are you afraid of, Link asked himself. Confront your fear, then take control. He was afraid of falling. He was afraid of hitting the ground. Falling, falling. What does that really mean, Link interrogated. Why are you so scared of falling. Why aren’t you scared of bokoblins? Why is falling so scary?
He didn’t have control of falling, Link realized. No one could save him from falling. No one saved Dad, and no one would save him. With the recognition of his fear, Link felt a vague sense of peace. Not enough to move on. But something.
You have control of the landscape, Link reminded himself. Stop yourself from falling. Link twisted his arm so that his hand could reach his pouch and drew out Zelda’s sailcloth. Using that as a parachute, Link smiled as he started to slow down. Opening his eyes he could see the Surface just below him. He was safe. He survived.
The simulation recognized his regular heartbeat and breathing, and suddenly he was somewhere different. Somewhere without wind, or sky, or falling.
Link lightly rested one hand against the amber that separated him from her. Zelda. Trapped in an endless sleep, fighting on evil for thousands of years until he could wake her up.
“But this time, when all this is over, will you come to wake me up?” she had said as she faded away from him.
“I promise,” he’d replied. His voice hadn’t cracked then. He wondered how in Hyrule he’d managed that. It cracked now, as he whispered the words back to himself.
Black tendrils of evil magic clawed at his arms and legs and forced him away from her and out of reach of her stone. Its black, wavering form threw him upon the ground and held him there, not doing anything but holding him back from her.
Time seemed to speed up. Link watched as vines grew around the amber and shivered as the walls around the Temple of Time desintegrated. He watched as all turned to dust, and fire erupted in the temple, but strangely, he wasn’t touched.
But she was. Link tried once again to fight whatever black, shapeless magic kept him on the ground and useless, but whatever it was was too strong. There was nothing he could do from watching Zelda’s amber doing what amber should not—melting. Thousands and thousands of years after she’d trapped herself, and now she was going to die in flame.
No! No, no, no she couldn’t! He’d promised. He’d promised her! Link struggled against the evil magic in vain once again as the fire ripped away the last of Zelda’s protection. He saw the fire rise. He heard a bloodcurdling scream. And then nothing.
The fire disappeared, as did the magic. There was white all around except for one spot. Where the amber—where she—used to be. Link ran to it. His heart dropped at the sight of the nothing. Not even any remains. Just, nothing. He’d failed her. She’d trusted him and he’d failed her.
Fake, whispered a voice in the back of his head. This isn’t real. Link looked up and understanding dawned on him again. This wasn’t real. Zelda was still alive! Trapped, but alive. He hadn’t failed her, not yet, and if he stayed here and mourned over a simulation he would fail her. Link got up and nodded. It was time to continue.
The temple disappeared and the simulation morphed into something else. A dark, swampy place. But that wasn’t the point. The point was the figure in front of him. Link drew his sword.
“Oh, must you bring out your weapon yet? I was just getting started,” chided Ghirahim softly. Link didn’t reply.
“Ah, I see,” whispered Ghirahim with a glint in his eye and a smirk on his lips. A snap, a handful of diamonds, then nothing. Where had he-
“Playing knight again, are we?” he continued from right behind him. Ghirahim was so close that he could feel Ghirahim’s cold skin on his shoulders. Link refused to look back, knowing what he’d see. The tongue. Oh yes. That. Link wanted nothing to do with that ever again. Or with Ghirahim at all, for that matter.
“Not playing,” Link stated, jerking away from Ghirahim and raising his sword in front. Not real, Link reminded himself. It isn’t real. Ghirahim isn’t really here. He’s wherever demon lords go in their spare time, doing whatever demon lords do.
But he sure looked real.
“Oh, so sorry for not having understood,” mocked Ghirahim with a sweeping bow. “Not playing anymore. So you think you can beat me now, do you. But do you really think that? Are you sure you’re enough?”
Ignore it. Ignore it. It’s not real. Link slowly, carefully, and deliberately sheathed his sword and stood silent and calm before Ghirahim. Inhale, exhale…
This apparently disturbed Ghirahim quite a bit. “Oh, ok, not going to play at all now. But you know I can take advantage of that. Yes, I see you’ve realized, haven’t you? I’m stronger than you. And I will, inevitably, kill you.” Ghirahim raised his sword over Link’s unprotected head, but Link ignored it. His heart stopped racing, his breathing became normal, and the whole landscape changed again.
And before Link stood Groose, in the Skyloft. You’d think after all this time Link would have gotten over Groose always taunting him. But no. He looked around. Zelda was nowhere to be seen. And no encounter with Groose without Zelda being there to save him had ever ended without a good deal of pain.
“Heyya, squirt,” called Groose.
Despite the voice in his head telling him this was all fake, Link grabbed the hilt of his sword, just in case. Or, at least, he tried to. The sword wasn’t there. He looked down to see that his entire green uniform was gone, replaced by his old school clothes. Which also meant that all his equipement was gone too.
Groose made some inhuman noises with his nose that Link could only assume was meant to be laughter. “What now? What’re you gonna do now that you don’t have your little sword or your babysitter with you? Call for mommy?”
Link braced himself. Groose only used that card on the bad days. He knew it shouldn’t rile him up so much after all this time, but every time his parents were mentioned Link could never help but take the bait.
“Oh, but you can’t call for mommy, can you? Where’s your mommy, Link? Where’s your daddy?”
“That’s enough,” Link said, his voice calmer than anyone had expected. He repeated himself, louder this time. “That is enough!” The simulation wasn’t real. He could control it. Link drew his sword.
At the sight of the weapon Groose cringed. “Ok, ok, I’m sorry alright? I didn’t mean it. You don’t have to get so angry about it, just a little fun…”
“That’s enough,” Link repeated, inching the sword closer and closer to Groose’s throat. He stopped when the metal touched skin.
He shouldn’t do this. He’d made his point; he’d stood up to Groose. He didn’t have to murder. But it was just a simulation, right? He wasn’t actually killing anybody. Link looked into Groose’s eyes and saw nothing but fear. It was pathetic, really.
The burning in Link’s eyes dimmed and he lowered the sword and let it drop, fading away completely before even touching the pavement. He’d won.
Groose faded before his eyes, but the scenery didn’t change. Only the person standing in front of him. This time it was Zelda, the way she looked on the day of the wing ceremony. And she was angry.
“I can’t believe I wasted so much of my time with you!” she spat. “Everyone else knew, everyone else saw you for what you are. Worthless! Why couldn’t I see it?”
Link inwardly groaned. This was a different kind of fear. This wasn’t panic, no, he’d always known about this one. Zelda was his only real friend. If she left, he would have no one. He’d be completely alone. This wasn’t panic. This was dread.
“Zel, please, I-”
“No, I will not give you another chance! And don’t call me ‘Zel’! I hate it when you call me that!” Zelda stood close to him and pointed her finger like she always did to Groose if she caught him picking on Link again. “I spent so long trying to be nice to you, the loser, the orphan, when all along I should have just left you to rot and actually been able to have some of my own friends. I was a fool. Do you hear me? A fool!”
He needed to stay calm. An illusion, not real. Let her go. “If you really feel that way, then go ahead. Go. I wish the best for you, Zelda. Nothing but the best.” And he meant it, too. No matter what Zelda ever did in the future, he did never wish anything but the best for her. And that realization is what set him free.
The landscape changed again to… nothing. Link was floating on nothing, still in his old clothes. As his view tipped downward, he saw a mammoth hill with scales chewing up whole trees in one bite and opening its giant maw to roar at him. Demise. The Demise from his nightmares.
It’ll destroy everything, Link thought. It that thing gets loose, it’ll destroy everything. And I’m the only thing standing in its way. Link floated closer to the behemoth’s outstretched maw and didn’t do anything. Just stood straight and still. Except this time, that wasn’t an act of bravery. Link couldn’t have moved if he’d wanted to.
After a couple seconds of uselessly trying to move his muscles Link understood. The nightmare was on rails. He could only observe. So Link stopped. He stayed put while Demise destroyed every living thing. And patiently waited till he could get around to eating him.
It’d happened before. That’s how his nightmares always ended, with Demise eating him whole. He’d always woken up sweaty and shivering. But this time, after having gone through so much else, this one seemed nothing.
Demise approached him. Link observed the rows upon rows of yellow, jagged teeth. And Link was no more.
He woke up in a chair. Was he out of the simulation? Not yet, he knew somehow. There was one fear to go yet. How did he know that? How did he know there was another one coming?
Ah, right. Because he knew this one was coming all along.
His own self. And his own self doubt. Was he really worthy of the title Hero? Was he really worthy of holding the Master sword? Was he really worthy of it all?
It’s easy to overcome external fears. It’s the internal that are hardest to get past.
Link had always worried he wasn’t good enough. Not good enough for Zelda, not good enough for knighthood, and now not good enough to be the Hero he was apparently meant to be. And now, after having seen all his fears lined up in a row, he was sure of it. How could someone who feared so much be worthy of anything? He was a coward, Link told himself. He always was and he always would be.
Did admitting that the fear was valid count as overcoming it? Apparently not, because Link didn’t wake up. He could stay there, he decided. Just stay there, in a simulation, forever. Let someone else worry about the fate of everything.
Even as he ran the idea over in his mind Link knew he couldn’t do that. He couldn’t leave his job to someone else when Zelda—when the whole world—was in mortal danger. Worthy or not, Link was given a task to complete, and there was a lot riding on his success. Coward or not he had to finish what he’d started. And maybe that’s what made him brave in the first place.
Link blinked. And he was awake. “Well done, Master,” said Fi. “You have passed the simulation.”

 

The Fear Landscape Series and a News Update

Hey guys,
As you know this has been a very busy time for me. Not only has school been getting more and more intense for me lately, but I’ve also moved very recently. Consequently, something had to be cut, and unfortunately, it was writing. For the last couple of weeks I’ve been posting only things that I had already written, and I haven’t written any new material in a while. As my life will only be getting crazier, my sort-of hiatus is just going to have to continue.

But, I recently read the book Divergent by Veronica Roth. Maybe someday I’ll get the chance to write an analysis of it, but enough of the book itself. There was one idea in it that I really loved. The fear landscapes. For those who don’t know, a person’s fear landscape in this book is a simulation the characters go through that presents the character’s worst fears to them and forces them to overcome them. I felt this was a brilliant way to do a character study.

So now I’m going to start a new series of fanfics, one that I’m pretty sure I’ll be able to keep up with. It’ll be called the Fear Landscape Series, and every week I’ll take a character from any of my fandoms and run them through their own fear landscape. I’ll write about what the fears are, how the character gets past them, and possibly how that affects the character after the simulation is over. I have no idea how many of these I’m going to do, but I have at least a couple characters in mind already. If you have any character requests, please go ahead and comment it! I’ll only do it if I feel I could make a good story out of it and know the character well, but as long as it’s from a fandom I’m familiar with I’ll probably be able to do it.

Thank you for your patience with me during this incredibly busy time. Again, I’m so sorry about the If Things Had Been Different series, parts one and two of which can be found here and here. I promise to get back to that as soon as I can, but I want to take the time to do that right and I know that these fear landscapes are going to be fairly easy to keep up with. Thanks once again for following this blog!

With love in fandom,
Marie

 

It’s a Small World

“Why did you take me here?” Sherlock growled at John. The buzzing crowds around them encroached too much on his comfort zone and consequently Sherlock was brusque… Well, more brusque than usual.
“It’s called a holiday, Sherlock. It’s what normal people do when they want to get away.” John managed to answer calmly, even though his patience was wearing thin.
“Half way across the world? With these… Americans!” spat Sherlock. The happiest place on earth didn’t seem so happy to him.
“We haven’t had a case in over a month now. You got so bad that you had Mycroft worried about you! He practically ordered both of us here, curtesy of the British government. You didn’t have a choice and neither did I, but at least let’s make the most of it.”
“Mycroft is a twit,” grumbled Sherlock to himself. Of course John, having heard all, rolled his eyes and chose to leave it at that. He and Sherlock both grudgingly got on the stupid ride they’d accidentally queued for and it started off. Suddenly-
It’s a small world after all! It’s a small world after all! It’s a small world after all! It’s a small, small world!
John shut his eyes slowly and breathed in from his diaphragm. He didn’t look over at Sherlock, but he knew enough to guess at what he would see. At least one of them needed to stay calm. As soon as John deemed himself calm enough to deal with Sherlock, he opened one eye and risked a glance that way.
For at least the hundredth time that day, John sighed. “Sherlock,” he whispered. “It’s not that bad.” Sherlock had curled himself into what almost looked like a ball and wore a scowl that put all his previous ones to shame. “At least look like a decently adjusted human being, and not a mental patient!”
After a couple seconds Sherlock began to uncurl. “Fine.” He sat straight up and folded his arms. The scowl didn’t change. With one last exasperated sigh John rested his face in his hand. Neither person moved till the ride was completely over.
As soon as John successfully got Sherlock to a more secluded bench area he shut down completely. “Sherlock. Sherlock. Sherlock? Sherlock!” shouted John. Thoroughly irritated, he practically fell on the bench and waited. Nothing else to do when Sherlock went to his Mind Palace.
Sherlock opened his eyes and hopped off the bench. “What was that about?” asked John.
“That song. It dirtied the Palace, so I had to clean.”
John simply blinked a few times and shook it off. As they continued to walk, that song continued to play though John’s mind without skipping a beat. What he would give to be able to just clean it out! Unconsciously he started humming it, much to Sherlock’s chagrin.
“John! That song! You put it back in my Palace!”
And thus began one of Sherlock’s daily chores… emptying the Mind Palace of It’s a Small World.

A/N – This is completely ridiculous. Seriously. I mean, usually I try to make my fics plausible headcanon, but this really is just silliness and nothing more. So yeah. Like that.

 

A Thousand Years

“I’m still your Zelda,” I say, trying my best to appear serene while My Hero—my Link—bangs in the amber separating us with both fists clenched. He looks so scared, so heartbroken, that I can hardly keep speaking. But I force myself to continue.
“When Demise is finally gone, there will be no more need for the seal that binds him, and I will be able to wake up.” That’s the plan. That was what Hylia wants me to say. But I am still Zelda. And Zelda has a request.
“So I’m going to ask you a favor, sleepyhead,” I continue, feeling my throat close in and my muscles tense. “Ever since we were kids I’ve always been the one to wake you up when you slept in. But this time, when all of this is over, will you be the one to wake me up?”
As the magic begins to envelope me and I feel my consciousness slipping away, I keep my eyes open to watch Link stop fighting the amber and rest his palms upon it. “I… I promise,” he says, the words catching in his throat. I smile. And I fall asleep.
And I wake up. I am standing in another realm. The sky is an expanse of blue with fluffy white clouds for as far the eye can see. The ground is smooth and covered in a shallow covering of water. It ripples as I walk. The sky perfectly reflects on the ground, causing me to be completely surrounded by blue.
I am not alone. In front of me is Demise, in his abomination form that I encased him in eons ago, though I suppose for him is has only been a few days. Huge and covered in dark purple scales. He has legs, and, I soon realize, great magical ability. He roars, and the sound is deafening.
When I told Link that I would fend off Demise for as long as I am able, I meant it quite literally. This is a spirit realm, and I must fight him until such a time as my hero destroys his body, forever this time.
Knowing that to fight one such as he is impossible, even for a goddess, I position my fingers for my first spell. One that will alter his form. I cannot destroy the magic that gives him his power, but I can separate it from him. And then I can hide it as far away as this realm will permit.
“Farore, Din, and Nayru, my sisters, aid me now,” I say in a deep vice that penetrates the realm. At the names of my sisters, Demise cowers for a moment. That is all the opportunity I need to unleash the magic.
His magic is torn from his chest and floats above me as a great ball of black light. I divide the ball and I cast the pieces far away, to the opposite edges of this realm. Now this monster, I can battle.
Demise roars in anger, but I do not flinch. “You may have come close to defeating me once before, but I promise you, your chance will never come again.” Wielding the strength of my sister Din, I unleash a stream of fire from my arms. It shoots across the empty space that separates me from the abomination and it scorches his scales.
The advantage of my preemptive strike does not last long. The abomination steps forth and closes the distance between us in only a few steps. However, I still have an advantage. His objective is to recover what I have taken from him. Mine is to buy my hero time.
An electric wave begins at his feet, and I gather my skirts and run from it. I am able to outrun the majority of the blast, but I do not clear the edge of the field in time. My ankles experience a strong tingling sensation and I am suddenly unable to run any longer. Seeing me down, the abomination does not press his attack. He has immobilized me, giving him a chance to find the powers I have hidden. He storms away from me and to the first chest.
I force myself up. I must fend him off for a thousand years; I cannot afford an injury yet. If I fail, the world will end. And my hero’s—Link’s—sacrifice would be in vain. That thought is enough to lift me back to my feet. I follow after my enemy, and keep in my mind the memory of Link. My Hero. And my friend.

 

The Last

“Midna, honey, take the pumpkin soup out of the fire, will you?” called Ilia from the top tier of the treehouse.
“Alright, Mother!” shouted eleven year old Midna back. As Midna set the soup on the counter she thought she heard a grunt from upstairs. “Mother?”
“I’m all right,” assured Ilia. Midna wasn’t convinced.
Heading upstairs, she found her mother sitting on the ground and in obvious pain. “Mother?”
“Midna, I am fine. Please go get your father,” requested Ilia.
Midna however was reluctant to leave her mother alone. As she spent just a second debating, Ilia grunted slightly again, which in turn forced Midna’s decision. Father being here was more important than Mother being left alone for a minute or two.
As she turned to head back downstairs, little Shad poked his head over the wood flooring. “is Mama ok?”
“Yes, darling, Mama is fine. Midna is going to go get Papa. Why don’t you find Zellie for me? Tell her to look after Colin for a while, alright?” As Shad went off to obey Midna flew down each ladder and across each floor, and even jumped the last climb. She knew what was happening. The baby was coming.
“Father! Father!” she yelled from across the fields as she ran to him.
Link looked up as she came and stopped his hoeing for a minute. “Midna? Is something wrong?”
“Mother told me to get you. I think she’s having the baby!” reported Midna. She hadn’t even finished the last sentence before Link had dropped his tools and was running back to the house.
“Midna, go get Aunt Uli!” ordered Link as he ascended the ladders at two rungs a step.
Nodding her head, Midna ran back out the house, across the fields, into Ordon village, and to Uli’s house where she banged as hard as her small hands would allow on the door. “Aunt Uli! It’s Mother! She’s having her baby!” shouted Midna from the door.
When Uli opened it, she already held a bag with a few supplies. “Let’s go,” she said. “We have enough time to walk.” Despite Midna’s better judgment, she and Uli walked all the way back to the treehouse, where there was already chaos going on. Shad and Orielle were running around in a panic and knocking into each other Zellie and Daphnes were squabbling as usual, and Colin was left alone to start trying to touch the still-hot pumpkin soup.
Midna ran to Colin and picked him up before he could burn himself. “I’ve got this. Mother might need you already!” Midna urged. Uli nodded and began to climb.
Alone with her five younger siblings, Midna centered herself in the room with Colin on her hip. “Everyone!” she shouted. All four children stared at her. “Orielle and Shad, calm down. There is no need to make a fuss. Zellie and Daphnes, this behavior is frankly beneath you. If you can’t stop your fighting then I suggest Zellie goes and starts the darning and Daphnes does his arithmetic. Understood?”
Zellie and Daphnes both solemnly nodded and got to work, and Orielle and Shad started working on the jigsaw puzzle they’d been working on for days. As Midna sat down on the coushioned bench with Colin still on her lap, she noticed Link standing on the level above her in the shadows. “Father?”
“I heard you just now. You did well,” he said as he climbed down and sat next to Midna.
“Thanks, but why are you here?”
“Your mother and Aunt Uli kicked me out,” he confessed.
Midna giggled. “That’s too bad. Do you think the baby will be a boy or a girl?”
“It’s hard to say beforehand. Shad and Colin were both boys, so this one might be a girl. Or it might not. I guess we’ll know in a few hours,” Link said with a concerned sigh.
“Yeah.”
A few hours later, Uli came down the ladder grinning. “It’s all over, Link. You have a fourth son.”
Link immediately stood. “I’ll be right up!” Looking down at Midna and taking Colin from her, he continued. “Colin can sit right here for a while. Why don’t you come with me.”
Midna nodded, and together she and her father climbed the ladders to the top tier, where Ilia sat in bed with a wrapped bundle in her arms.
“It’s a boy,” said Ilia.
“I know!” exclaimed Link. He kneeled next to Ilia and gently took the baby from her. “Midna, sit down so I can hand him to you.” Midna silently sat down criss-cross on the floor and allowed the baby to be placed in her lap. For a good long while she didn’t say anything simply because of how surreal it all seemed. Another brother, born only minutes ago, lying in her arms.
“What are you going to call him?” asked Midna.
Link took the baby back and cradled him. “That’s a good question. Ilia?”
“You know as well as I do that this is our last one, which means you have to let me choose. You chose the first baby’s name,” she said, nodding to Midna, “so it’s only fitting that I get to name the last.”
“That sounds fair,” agreed Link.
“Ok. I want our little boy to be named Link.” Midna smiled. That sounded good to her.
“No!” Link immediately protested. “I’ll let you choose, but we are not naming a baby after me! We never named one after you.”
“Well now I didn’t save all of Hyrule and beyond, did I?” Ilia retorted.
“You may as well have,” Link argued back. Midna tried not to chuckle as she witnessed her parents attempting to have an argument and still saying mushy things like that in the middle of it.
“Fine. If you won’t let me name our son after you, then we’ll name him after your favorite fictional character. A good role model for any young boy.” Um, Father’s favorite fictional character is from that “Legend of Zelda” book. And his name is Link.
“But his name is Link too!” Link protested again. This time Midna did chuckle lightly.
“I know. And Link is his name,” Ilia stated in a tone that defied being argued, the tone she used when Midna was in trouble.
Still sitting criss-cross on the floor, Midna silently rose a hand to her mouth to stifle her giggle at seeing Father quite obviously beaten.
He only sighed. “Fine, you beat me. Link it is.”