Hello, i'm back. Okay well i was bored and had this idea rolling around in my head, but i'm notoriously bad with plot lines! So i decided i'd make my own new form of stories! This is what i call a "Moment" seems pretty self-explanitory. . .so yeah. My first "Moment" enjoy and PLEASE REVIEW!! TWILIGHT PRINCESS AND ALL THEIR CHARACTERS BELONG TO NINTENDO! I DO NOT OWN THEM!
A girl rose with a gentle start. Slowly sitting up she pulled the blanket tighter around herself. Slowly she recognized the bedside table and pictures of her bedroom in Ordon Village. Gently she removed the blankets and slid to the edge of the bed. She lightly pressed her bare feet to the floor and felt around for the goat fur slippers her father had given her as a present. The weather was cooling and even though it was nearing mid-morning, the skies were still black. Slipping silently down the stairs, the tail of her tan nightgown flew behind her and she peaked around the corner of stairs. Lying in the bed and snoring lightly was her father. Good, he's still asleep, she thought. Without any thought she prepared a breakfast for her father and drank only a glass of goat's milk for herself. Upstairs she quickly dressed in a tan embroidered tunic and long brown pants. Exchanging her goat fur slippers for a pair of wool socks she hurried towards the door, stopping only to take her brown overcoat from the rack and a blue scarf from on top of a small chest.
Outside the world slumbered. Darkness coated the land and the stars twinkled dimly; already fading to the pre-dawn lights. The wind whipped around her face and she followed the direction it was blowing. Over the stream that was nearly ice during the chilly nights and early mornings and past the pumpkin patch, now bare and dormant for the winter. Up the well worn path to the house she longed to see alive again. Sadly there was no life inside the house, or any signs of life around it. No footprints marked the paths the nook reserved for the mighty steed was empty. Taking a careful examination of the windows for any light, however faint, he hasn't arrived, she thought glumly. She headed down to the spring, prepared to spend another day in waiting, practicing her horse call and recalling memories of his voice, his touch, his warm and caring smile.
In the distance a figure raced across a grey stone bridge. The figure panted heavily and clutched at his arm when the sudden change in the terrain caused him to jerk in his saddle. He fumbled in his bag with his good arm and pulled out a small bottled filled with a strange, purple goop. Pouring some onto his hand he reached under the tear in his sleeve and spread it over his wound. First his arm then his torso went limp from the effects of the goop; he rode on though the danger was greater now than before.
The girl knelt on the sandy shores of the Ordon Spring. The water wasn't frozen but it was hardly warm. Had it been a warmer day the village girl would have spent hours at the spring, washing her hair and swimming. But for now she would have to be content with making ripples with her fingers and tracing figures in the sand.
Several times the figure almost slipped from his saddle; it was only his instincts, hazy as they were, that kept him perched in his seat. Finally he was jostled from his medicated slumber by a familiar smell in the air and what would be one of his final changes in terrain. His steed rode faster now, as if realizing for herself, where they had finally arrived.
She walked slowly through the fading forest. Brown leaves fell around her and twigs snapped under her feet, but she took no notice. In her hands she held a piece of grass, but it was no ordinary grass. Her beloved used to play a beautiful melody on it, his horse loved it especially. If she closed her eyes she could hear the song; almost hear the clopping of hooves.
The horseman counted off the landmarks that would bring him closer to his home, to his love. Across the bridge, past the spring, through the forest. . .
Sighing she took one last look at the house and made her way past it again, it took all she had not to go inside; lately she had took to spending the day inside there but she knew she had other things to do, painful memories to avoid. . .
Almost there, the final glade was whizzing past. . .
She paused before the entrance to the village, what was that sound? She turned as the source appeared, gasped and stumbled backwards. . .
Quickly the horseman swung his right leg over so he was riding side-saddle and facing the left. When he spotted his target he released the reins and leapt from his horse, he hit the ground and starting running; he never missed a beat. . .
The girl's face was stunned for a moment and then joy filled her features to such an extent that her face simply glowed. She dropped the grass and ran to him. . .
He ran to her, his eyes filled with relief of her safety and his smile warmed the land around him, even the flowers opened their petals wider in his presence. . .
Her coat flew from her shoulders and her scarf flew behind her, rippling happily in the wind. Finally, she thought. . .
Finally, he thought. Reaching out towards her he caught her slender waist in his firm, large hands. He twirled her round through the air with the momentum of his run. . .
She was lifted high into the air by his strong arms, he spun her around and she laughed joyfully. She never wanted the moment to end, but she knew there were better ones to come. . .
Slowly the momentum wore off and they came to a gentle stop. He smiled warmly into her eyes for a brief moment then he lowered her towards his face. . .
She slid down his arms and gently placed her arms around his neck. One of his arms was tucked securely under her thighs, keeping her in the air, and the other rested on her back, she had forgotten how good that felt. . .
He brought his lips to hers and kissed her, strongly, passionately; expelling all traces of loneliness and sadness that had gathered during their long time apart. . .
When the kiss finally ended she whispered, "I missed you,"
He kissed her lightly again. . .
"I missed you, too."