Work Text:
The Proposal
The Legend of Zelda and all related media are property of Nintendo.
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Link found himself in quite the pickle. It'd been a good while since he'd felt such unease in his heart—the last time being three years ago when he realized that his love for Malon ran deeper than friendship. Of course, his heart lifted upon speaking with her not a day after that revelation and finding out she felt the same. But Malon couldn't help him now; in fact, once again, she was the source (albeit indirectly in this case) of his unease.
He'd finally decided that he wanted to marry her. Not to say that he hadn't imagined spending the rest of his life with her, but now seemed like the time to make it official.
But he wasn't worried she would say no. No, she, Talon, and even the ever-irritable Ingo had all (with varying degrees of subtlety) broached the subject. Indeed, Malon seemed a little annoyed that he was still dragging his feet. And he wouldn't normally, were it not for one unfortunate detail.
Malon detested rings. And all types of jewelry for that matter. She liked gems well enough—she had a box hidden under the floorboards of her room filled with different stones her father received as payment and didn't exchange for money, that she'd bought for herself, or that Link had collected for her. But cast those stones into a gold or silver band, and she would refuse putting them on until she was blue in the face.
But, there was a light at the end of the tunnel. She liked brooches; never went anywhere without her scarf tied in the center by a metal pendant. It wouldn't take much to commission a jeweled pendant that would succinctly declare his intentions and love for her.
At least, that was the hope. A hope quickly dashed when he started talking with the jewelers at Castle Town. The festival to the Goddess Hylia was coming up, and all the jewelers were already overbooked with commissioned pieces. They did offer a few of their apprentices for the job, but even they were swamped.
Thus, he sat at the edge of the fountain with a ragged sigh, rubbing his temples in resignation. As much as he hated it, he'd have to push back his proposal back a few weeks. Granted, he could go up to Death Mountain and ask the Gorons to make the brooch for him, but he wanted the actual proposal to come as a surprise and asking a Goron to keep a secret was like asking a Zora to sunbathe.
"Have you heard?"
"For Din's sake Nala, just say it."
Link turned his attention to two women with baskets in their hands as they stopped by the fountain.
"Ok, ok. You used to be fun," at her friend's soft glare, Nala hurriedly said, "The Happy Mask Shop's back in town."
The other woman blinked, "The what shop?"
"Oh, do you not know it? It's this peculiar little shop that came into town about ten years ago. But it was gone almost as quickly as it appeared. Used to be in that building over there." She took a moment to point to one of the buildings flanking the entrance to the royal palace. "But since that place is currently a boutique, the owner's set up in the alley behind the potion store."
"Wait…wasn't that the place that sold those animal masks? Kipton? Colton?"
"Keaton. It was really popular back then."
"Heh, I remember that."
Nala nodded, "Still, can't really say why it's come back now of all times. No one likes masks anymore nowadays. Well, except my brother-in-law."
"Your brother-in-law's a freak."
"Carol!" Nala gasped, scandalized.
"The man wants to be a gravedigger."
The two women started to walk away then, their words growing softer and softer. The Happy Mask Shop…there was only one man who'd name his shop as such, but could it be?
In truth, he thought a lot about Termina. About the indeterminable amount of time he'd spent trying to save the doomed land. About the people he helped, the spirits he helped lay to rest, and that helped him in turn. About an entity far more malevolent than Ganondorf could have ever hoped to be…
He arched his back, deciding to at least check out the shop. It's not like he was going anywhere. Especially since Hetsu's shoes needed replacing after trekking through all the mud and gunk on the way to Castle Town; normally he'd just wait until getting back to the Ranch, but Hetsu was getting on in his years, and he didn't need the extra discomfort before his retirement.
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The building looked fairly drab—just the standard brick and wood abodes that made up the town. He'd actually almost walked past it, the only thing denoting it as a shop being the sign nailed over the door reading 'Happy Mask Shop'. There weren't any windows on the first floor, but the door did have a sign which said 'Open'. Thus, Link entered the building.
The first thing he noticed was the elaborate chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, easily lighting the room. The second thing he noticed were the masks. It really shouldn't have been too much of a surprise; it was a 'Mask Shop', after all. But still, the sheer number of masks took him aback. Shelves lined the walls, and each level (of which there were five) had at least ten different masks. There were also masks lining the top of the wall, just below the ceiling. And the back wall, behind the counter, had masks littering every inch. An ordinary person would have been unnerved all the eyes staring at them. But none of those eyes were glowing or blinking, so Link was calm as could be.
He walked towards one of the shelves. A majority of the masks were unfamiliar to him, but he saw a few here and there that he recognized. Like a blue, spherical mask with a white skull painted on the front. The Blast Mask. Link chuckled as memories started to flood the front to his mind, memories of desperation, irritation, and resignation. But he frowned, for this mask felt different than the one he owned (which was currently, along with the other, more dangerous items of his youth, locked in a chest buried a foot in the dirt). He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but something was off about the mask.
"It's a fake."
Link stifled a yelp, rapidly turning around to find himself face-to-face with the Happy Mask Salesman. The man looked just like Link remembered; a purple vest over a purple shirt and pants. A broad, gold necklace that completely covered his neck and shoulders. Carefully cut and trimmed red hair—a few shades darker than Malon's. And, as always, a wide toothy grin, his eyes narrowed into slits. He held his hands out, beckoningly. Link nodded, handing him the mask.
The man hummed, lifting it up and peering at it. "A true Blast Mask," he said, "has two parts. An inner and outer shell clasped together on the bottom; about an inch of space between them, along with a firing mechanism. The inner shell is just blue-painted wood, but, as you know, there it a little lever on the inside that you clasp within your teeth. And the outer shell—the part with the skull—is covered in tiny, tiny holes. You fill up the empty space with blasting powder, and if you ever feel the need to blow it up, just bite down on the lever and," he giggled, "boom!" He stepped forward, placing the mask back in its spot. "There are magical variants, which automatically fill in the space with blasting powder five minutes after a blast. I believe you own one of those," he turned to Link, grin somehow growing wider. "Of course, I wouldn't dare sell true Blast Masks; I am a purveyor of Happiness after all and blowing oneself up isn't a very happy endeavor. Well," he shrugged, "for most people, it isn't." The Happy Mask Salesman turned back to face him, looking the Hylian up and down. "Hmm…you've grown."
Link scoffed.
A giggle, "Literally, of course, but I speak of a more…intangible growth." The man's grin softened, into what Link could only assume was a more genuine smile. "You no longer hold so much weight upon your shoulders. Nor does sadness encompass your heart. In fact…" he tilted his head peering closer, "…Yes, you've surrounded yourself with love."
Link blushed, looking away and scratching along his neck. A poor move, because he quickly found himself staring at one of his worst nightmares. There, hanging above the front door, was it. Shaped like a heart, deep purple on the top and blood red crawling up from the bottom, with two yellow spikes atop it, and eight multi-colored spikes going down on either side. Its eyes looked like glass, red and orange rimming sickly green irises. It's pupils two dark voids, sucking in the light around it.
Link grew aware of his heightened heart-rate and managed to calm himself before he reached for his weapon.
"It's a replica," the Happy Mask Salesman said, quickly entering Link's view and holding his hands up with a pensive frown. "Merely a fake I created in my free time." Link furrowed his brow. If this was a fake, then where was the real one? Before he could ask, the man said, "The real one is safe. Hidden away from prying eyes and greedy hearts."
That didn't ease Link's mood. The mask should just be a mask, it's magic gone. Had something happened, had Majora started to stir once more and tried to tempt hapless men and bitter children?
Now, the Salesman chuckled, his lips lifting up into a smile. "Fret not, my friend! It's still just a mask. But I jumped through quite a few hoops to obtain it." His face pinched, and his next words came out as a snarl, "I won't allow some glory hounds or witless fools to steal what I'VE EARNED!"
Now it was Link's turn to raise his hands placatingly. As if pulled by strings, the man snapped back to his relaxed stature, "Of course, that's none of your concern. Please," he spread his arms out, "browse my wares. Perhaps you will find something that can grant you happiness?"
Link doubted that—he had more than enough happiness to go around—but he had some time to kill anyway.
In truth, it was more a trip down memory lane than anything else. He spied many familiar masks; the aforementioned Blast Mask, the Bunny Hood, Keaton Mask, the All-Night Mask. All items he owned, all with their own stories attached to them. Some sad, some happy, and some just plain odd. But all stories he had the privilege to learn or witness.
And then, at the end of one of the shelves, he saw three masks, all placed closely together, that reminded him of one of the best, if exhausting, stories he'd witnessed. The Sun, Moon, and Couple's Mask. At least, he assumed that's what they were; they looked different than the three masks he was familiar with. For one, the Couple's Mask, though still pure, almost blindingly white, had a much less intricate symbol upon the face; a thin crescent moon, as opposed to the large, swooping symbols of the one he owned. This Sun mask had a smaller mane than the one Kafei had made, and its smile was smaller. The Moon mask, unlike Anju's, lacked the gold attachments on the sides, but the protuberance on the forehead was larger, with more intricate symbols carved along the side.
Link must have been staring at the masks more intensely than he thought, for the Happy Mask Salesman slid into view, saying, "Different than you remember, hm?" He grabbed the Sun and Moon Mask, inspecting them. "These—well, not these, but masks like them—are very special masks. Not just for the fact that they combine into one," he gestured to the Couple's Mask, "but for the love and care that goes into their creation. In truth, any two masks can be combined into a Couple's Mask. The Sun and Moon the most popular designs, but I've known people that have used a Dog and Cat. A Wolf and the Moon. A Cow and Bull. Even a Chu-Chu and a Moblin." Link jerked back in surprise, to which the Salesman laughed, "Yes, odd, isn't it? But the couple that made the masks were happy. That's all that matters, really." He put the masks back on their place, turning to Link with a smile. "Happiness."
Happiness. Link tossed the word around in his head a couple times. Then, an idea started to form in his head. An idea that could solve his most recent problem. Nodding, Link reached out for the Sun mask.
Only for the Happy Mask Salesman to reach out and slap the reaching limb.
Link pulled back with a sharp yelp, glaring at his attacker. The man just frowned sternly. "Maybe you didn't hear me. The true meaning behind these masks lies in their creation. I wouldn't dare trample upon the sentiment, the tradition, behind them by just selling them to people!" His expression softened, "At least, I won't sell finished masks."
Link, still smarting from the slap, just scowled at the man. Until his words sunk in; then, he narrowed his eyes suspiciously.
The Happy Mask Salesman chuckled softly, sharply turning around and leading Link to a door in the back. He opened it, revealing a workshop; littered with masks that were complete, half-way painted, or barely carved from the wood they were hewn from.
The Happy Mask Salesman stepped forward, turning around and spreading his arms out, "Shall we get started?"
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Hetsu gained a significant spring in his step after crossing the threshold to the Ranch. Not that Link could blame him; the sun had reached its zenith, and the mud from the morning was drying up. Very little chance of anything mucking up his hooves now. And there was a sheet of white clouds blowing in from the south, so the afternoon would be cooler; which was good, because Link hoped to visit the Woods before the day was up.
"Ah! There you are, Fairy Boy!"
Link smiled, waving his hand as Malon set down the pallet of Cucco feed, leaving the deceptively dangerous birds in their pen. She hurried over, and began walking in line with the cart. She beamed up at him, "Thanks for your present." Link smiled, glad that she liked the flowers he left outside her door in the morning. But her frown wiped away that good feeling, "Would have preferred if you'd woken me up before you left." Link held back a sigh. "You hush! I swear, you're getting as bad as Daddy." Link cocked a brow at her. She huffed, crossing her arms, "It was just a light sprain, nothing to worry about."
Link scoffed, but they dropped the argument upon arriving at the rest of the wagons. Link hopped off as Malon detached Hetsu. After pushing the empty wagon into place and securing it, he turned around to see Malon staring at one of Hetsu's hooves. She looked up at him, "Was it that bad?" He grimaced, which made her do so in turn, "Didn't think it rained so much last night." She straightened, gently petting Hetsu's flank, "But you're all better now, aren't you buddy. Still got a few more trips in you, huh?" The old horse nickered, poking Malon's apron with his head. She giggled, gently pushing him off. "Ok, ok!" She reached into her right pocket, pulling out a couple sugar cubes. "But only because you've been so good."
Link smiled as Malon gave Hetsu the cubes, gently stroking his mane. She started to hum a wordless song—not the song, but a sweet tune nonetheless—and his heart swelled. He was also reminded of the Happy Mask Salesman's parting words.
"While in Termina, the Sun and Moon's symbolism are clear and known to all, that is less so here. While I'm sure your special someone will no doubt appreciate the sentiment were of a Sun mask, and you a Moon mask, we can both agree that something that important to the two of you would be better."
Horses. Malon loved them. Knew everything about them. Since she was fourteen, she was the one officially in charge of their rearing, feeding, cleaning, even breeding. She lived and breathed horses. And he, while not nearly as knowledgeable or obsessed with the beautiful creatures, did love Epona as much as she did.
Yes. That would work.
Malon tore her gaze from Hetsu soon enough, tilting her head as she looked at him. "…You alright, Fairy Boy? You're staring at me like I got a target on my head." Link just shook his head, walking forward and enveloping her in a hug. "Ooh! Tight grip, Fairy Boy!" He pulled back, smiling sheepishly. She clicked her tongue, brushing her hair behind her ear. "Aw, I love you too. Fairy Boy." She leaned up, planting a chaste kiss on his lips. Before she could pull back, he pressed a more heated kiss against her lips. She moaned lightly, adjusting her grip so that she could respond in turn.
Kissing was something that confused him out when he first discovered it. The Kokiri didn't kiss. The most intimate gesture they performed was pressing their foreheads together, and even then, romance beyond a fleeting, childish crush was an utterly foreign concept.
But Link, a Hylian (by blood if nothing else), quickly learned to appreciate and reciprocate such gestures.
But his latest expression of love was cut short, when Malon let out a nervous squeak, harshly pulling back from Link, blushing up a storm. He was confused for a moment, until he followed her gaze, and he felt the heat creep up to his ears at the sight of Talon a few feet away, awkwardly whistling, staring at his feet.
Malon fully slipped out of his grasp, stumbling for Hetsu's reins. "…I'll take him back to the stables," she hurriedly said, marching the horse forward.
Despite the interruption, Link continued to smile until she disappeared from sight. It wasn't until he heard a rough cough from behind him that he remembered that he wasn't alone. His lips dipping down to a grimace, Link turned to face Talon, bashfully rubbing the back of his neck.
"Oh, don't worry too much my boy!" Talon said, though Link could see that his smile was a tad forced. "I was young once too!" He frowned heavily, "Course, when I was your age, no one did something like that in public without a wedding coming up."
Link sighed raggedly—he'd thought they'd been over this. Talon stepped forward, wringing his hands. "Son…is it a money thing? Cause I'd be more than happy to—"
Link cut him off with a grunt and sharp wave of the hand.
At that, Talon scowled. An odd look on the normally jovial, if lazy, man. "Well then why are you dragging your feet?!" he bellowed harshly, momentarily shocking Link. "What, you getting your kicks just leading Malon on like some—guh!" The irate man flinched in time with Link's glare, instantly deflating.
He felt a bit bad, he'd been told that his glares could be frightening, but as bad as he felt, he didn't want to tell Talon his plan. Not just because the idea of discussing such things with him was, frankly, embarrassing. The man was as likely to fall asleep and forget about it as blurt it out upon first seeing Malon. Instead, he just gestured that everything was fine.
"…Alright," Talon grumbled, crossing his thick, hairy arms. Idly, Link found himself grateful that Malon inherited nothing from her father—except for the eyes, maybe. "I'll trust you on this, son." He scowled, sternly pointing at Link, "But you better not break her heart!"
Link nodded, making his way for the stable. Along the way, he passed by Ingo. The two men stared at each other for a bit, before nodding, and going about their business. Ingo was a difficult subject for Link. On the one hand, he knew that the man had a deep capacity for cruelty. On the other hand, the circumstances in which that cruelty arose would never come to pass. Thus, unless the man were to try anything unsavory, he'd leave him be. For his part, Link was fairly certain than Ingo bore some positive feeling towards him, if only because of the lightened workload.
The first thing he became aware of upon entering the stable was soft sniffling. It didn't take long to find Malon standing outside Epona's stall, gripping their horse's neck in a fierce hug. She must have heard him, because she turned before he'd made it halfway to her. She hurriedly scrubbed her eyes, "O-oh, hey, Fairy Boy! Don't mind me, Epona stinks something awful! Brings tears to your eyes!" He just stared at her sadly. "…Yeah, didn't think you'd buy it. Oh, don't give me that look!" she sniffed, rubbing her nose, "Not like Daddy meant for me to hear that. He's just loud sometimes." Link's heart broke when she started to cry again, "I-I mean, I know you love me as much as I love you. I don't—I've never—doubted that. It's just—I—I—Y-You," she started to babble, tears flowing freely.
Link quickly swept her into a fierce hug. She whimpered, eagerly reciprocating the gesture. He'd inwardly berated his own obliviousness. Rings, masks, tradition; none of that mattered. All that mattered was the woman in his arms. The woman he loved. The woman who was bawling her eyes out because of him.
Thus, he came to a decision. He pulled back, gently wiping away her tears as her sobs subsided. He pressed his forehead against hers, waiting.
She took one last, long, sniff. "Hah," she opened her eyes, staring into his. "…Sorry about that," she whispered bashfully. Link smiled softly, leaning forward and kissing her chastely. Tenderly.
And then Epona whinnied, bumping her head against theirs. They both laughed, Malon breaking off to pet the horse, Link to the saddles. "Aw, were you feeling left out girl?" Epona huffed. "Sorry you had to see that," Malon said, turning to face Link "Both of yo—what are you doing?"
Link froze in place, Epona's personal saddle in his arms. Malon smiled softly, "Fairy Boy, that's sweet, but I don't need a ride to—" he cut her off with a shake of the head. He briefly jerked his head in the direction of Castle Town. "Castle Town?" She incredulously repeated. "Link, we can't just leave in the middle of the day!" Epona neighed excitedly. "Hush you!" Malon scolded, still facing Link.
He lowered the saddle a bit, staring at her pleadingly. She whined, and Link could see her resolve weakening. "B-But Daddy and Mr. Ingo—" he flippantly waved his hand. The only major things they had going on today were the weekly milk delivery and mending the western fence. Ingo, no matter how much he whined about it, could fix the fence. And Talon could easily work on the feeding and milking for the rest of the day.
"…Fine," she said, shoulders sagging in mock-defeat. "This better blow my mind." That said, she turned around, letting Epona out of her stall. The horse affectionately nudged her, before quickly cantering over to Link. "I'll just let Daddy and Mr. Ingo know we'll be gone."
Link nodded, already securing the saddle on Epona.
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"The Happy Mask Shop," Malon said, frowning up at the sign. "That sounds familiar." Link shrugged noncommittally—he'd remind her later. She peered around, "So…why'd you bring me to a closed mask shop?"
Before Link could reply, someone behind them answered, "Well, there's really only a few choice reasons why someone would enter a shop."
Malon shrieked, whirling around and jumping back against Link. The man himself was startled by her, and stumbled backwards when his eyes were enveloped in fiery red hair.
A light giggle filtered into his ears, "My apologies, I didn't mean to startle you so." Link spat out some hair, softly glaring at the salesman. He could sense Malon was doing the same. The enigmatic man giggled once more. He then abruptly leaned forward, peering at Malon with a frown. She tensed at the sudden scrutiny, only relaxing when Link gently rubbed her shoulders. The man was weird, but harmless. Well, mostly.
"Hmm," he hummed. Then, he leaned back, a smile on his face. "Yes…I'd say you've both made excellent choices."
Link felt his cheeks heat up, and a quick glance at Malon revealed she was turning as red as her hair. She—uncomfortable enough with her father commenting on their relationship, much less strangers—coughed, stammering out a reply.
"Well, I'd expected at least a day to prepare, but I suppose we can get started today." He brought his hands together with a soft 'clap'. "Now, will you two be making the masks together, or do you want to keep the final designs a secret until the big day?"
"Masks?" Malon turned to Link, brows furrowed. "What's he talking about?"
Link hummed, scratching his cheek.
"Wait a moment."
Link and Malon returned their attention to the salesman, a frozen smile on his face. Malon regarded the man curiously, and Link felt a pit form in his stomach.
"You mean…she doesn't know? You didn't…tell her? Before now you meant to…keep it a secret?"
Against his better judgement, Link nodded. He did take a moment to gently push Malon to the side, ignoring her confused looks and queries.
"…I see." The Happy Mask Salesman's eyes shot open into a deep glare, bloodshot, black pinpricks in their center. In the blink of an eye, he shot forward, reaching up and pulling Link down by his shirt. "DID YOU NOT LISTEN!" he shouted.
Link, though not choking, was being too violently shaken to say anything. And though his vision was heavily blurred, he could see that Malon had fallen to the ground, face frozen in shock.
"MARRIAGE MASKS ARE MEANT TO BE CREATED TOGETHER! THEIR MAGIC, THEIR MEANING, COMES FROM THE FACT THAT BOTH PARTIES ARE POURING THEIR LOVE AND HOPES FOR THE FUTURE INTO THEM!" He harshly threw Link onto the ground, clutching his head and shaking it furiously. "HOW COULD YOU EVEN THINK OF TRAMPLING UPON THIS AGE-OLD TRADITION!"
"Wa-Wait!" Malon fearfully cried. The enraged salesman paused, which unfortunately left him staring unblinkingly at Link. "Link wanted to give me a…mask?"
"Yes." As if the last few minutes had been a figment of their imaginations, the Happy Mask Salesman was his regular, calm self. His eyes were near-shut, mouth back into a soft smile, hands clasped over his stomach. Malon stared bewildered at the man, though Link was just glad it was over. "As I said, it's a symbol of love. The future-spouses take the time to design and create masks which hold special meaning to each other."
Malon's face softened, a smile spreading across her lips as she turned to Link. "It's some sort of…engagement ring?"
"Wedding rings would be a more apt comparison," the Happy Mask Salesman quickly added.
Link nodded. He cleared his throat. "I love you, Malon. I want to spend the rest of my life with you."
Malon cooed, moving closer and hugging him fiercely. "Is that why you've been taking so long? Because I don't like jewelry?" At his nod, she laughed. "Fairy Boy, if it was from you, I'd've worn it."
But he just shook his head. "I didn't want you to be uncomfortable." Malon huffed, but merely hugged him tighter, nuzzling into his neck.
They stayed like that, for how long Link didn't care to count. They only pulled apart when the Happy Mask Salesman said, "Touching as this is, would you like to come inside?" They pulled away from each other, staring up at him. "I mean, you could certainly start making the masks here, but I prefer a chair and table myself."
Link sighed, rising to his feet and helping Malon up. Then, arm-in-arm, the pair entered the shop, taking the first steps towards the rest of their lives.
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A/N: Started replaying Ocarina of Time. Remembered my first Ship before I knew what Shipping was. This is the result. Might make a sequel. Might not. Regardless, be sure to leave a review. Later.