Luminescence

In Need of Comfort

He arrived a few hours after sunset wondering why he had ever felt nostalgic about long horse-rides across the country. He felt permanently bow legged and the ground felt unseemingly hard underneath his feet after being apart for so long. If the guards saw any of this, they didn't show it. Stable boys took his sweaty horse away and a set of guards led him into the castle, informing him along the way to his quarters that the princess had already turned in for the night, but had ordered his needs to be seen too. They would see each other in the morning. Link had no qualms about this. His exhaustion wore on him like lead weights and it seemed a miracle that he was even able to reach his quarters without having to be carried.

Once alone in his room, he peeled off his equipment and flung himself onto the four poster bed. It felt softer than clouds. Though, from his experience, clouds weren't soft at all. They were very wet. But he meant it as an analogy anyways.

"Would you like a bath to be drawn for you, Sir Link?"

Sir Link. Huh. He could get use to that.

"No thank you. I'll take some food though—that is, if that's okay?"

The guard bowed low. "Of course. Is there anything in particular you would like, Sir Link?"

Oh yeah. Mr. Sir Link to you, good sir.

"Nah. Whatever is there, I'm good with."

"Very well. A tray will be sent to your room shortly. If there is anything you need, Sir, please, feel free to ask."

The door shut. Grinning to himself, he grabbed a pillow and mashed it to his face out of ecstasy. It was so freaking squishy! Did they have real feather pillows? They had to be. Even as he happily rolled about the heavenly bed he could feel his fatigue getting the better of him. He could definitely get use to this.

Forcing himself to stand, he peeled off the green tunic he had chosen to travel in. The mail was light and nearly cloth like, but he still groaned as the weight came off his shoulders. Once he stood bare chest and only wearing leggings, he sought out the pitcher of water in front of one of his room's wide windows and went to it. He had just poured some water and slapped a wet rag to his shoulders when a flash of white caught his eye. Tensing, he peered out the window into the moonless night. Had that been what he thought it was? Jaw clenched in anger, he unlatched the windows and flung them open. A wave of cool air rushed in, prickling his skin with goose bumps.

"Luna!" he called out. "I thought I told you not to come!"

A moment passed only filled by crickets and the occasional whisper of wind. Just as he was preparing himself for another shout there was a great 'thwomp' of air and the white form of Luna landed precariously on the battlements just outside his windows, great wings stretched high. He felt the air he had just breathed in blow out in a great rush at the sight of her. Even without moonlight, her whiteness made her glow against the dark night. She balanced unsteadily on all fours, looking up at him guiltily through a curtain of windswept white hair. Carefully, she tucked in her wings behind her.

He could plainly read the words written on her face.

I'm sorry.

But instead of scolding her like he felt like doing, he could only stare. Though it had occurred to him that she could probably fly with those wings, the reality of it had never truly sunk in. Even as he stared at her, awestruck, a breeze blew past them and he saw her shiver. Shaking himself out of it, he sighed.