Master Smith || Link x Reader

16 || The Art of a Blacksmith

Winter had come early following Link's arrest, yet it took its time actually setting in. Trees were still full of freshly yellow leaves when first snow fell, blanketing the farmlands in a thin layer of powder which remained till the end of the week at longest before melting into the earth. It wasn't until the end of the next month that more permanent mounds were left behind, deep enough to reach your knees if you ever left the house, but you rarely did.

You had once enjoyed sitting by the fire, sipping on hot chocolate and admiring the beautiful wonderland that presented itself just outside your window. You used to like the slow feeling that came with this season as your village finally took a rest after a long, laboring harvest, but that initial winter without Link only brought a hollowed feeling to your heart instead.

Originally, you tried to convince yourself that his absence was no different from what you've been accustomed to. The slightest crunching of footsteps through the snow nearly gave you whiplash and every lantern light blinking in the distance fluttered in your heart. For at least a split second, you managed to trick yourself into believing your Link was home from one of his typical adventures, however this hope had always been snuffed out by the everlasting sting of reality. It was no mere nightmare that you suffered: Link really is gone and he isn't coming back. For how long? You've feared the answer...

Spring seemed to appear just as slowly, although there's nothing to note of it. Your village came back to life with farmers sleepily preparing their fields while you mourned your own little garden. The winter must've been too harsh and long for those precious purple flowers Link had gifted you all those years ago because, despite how well they had thrived since first being planted, none returned that spring nor the one after or even the one after that.

By summer, you were about fed up with the entire world, if being frank. At Dagianis for taking Link away, at all those who dare support such an evil man, and at Hylia for not speaking in favor of her hero who's shown nothing but loyalty to her, however out of everyone who found themselves at the end of your fury, it burned brightest towards yourself.

How dare you remain home, pouting by candlelight while Link's chained away in the darkest depths of Skyview Dungeon, cold and afraid as is your constant image of him? Why didn't you do more to fight for him then - to protect him like he's always protected you? Why haven't you gone to Skyview now, demanding his release and refusing to leave until it's granted?

If you weren't sobbing these questions in your room, then you were taking your frustrations out by hammering away at poor metal in the blacksmith - a place that had gone awfully quiet otherwise since Link's removal from your life. You just didn't know how to function with your loss, no longer feeling joy in anything; not reading, not talking, and especially not working.

Hiroto worried for you as any father would. He, of course, understands all too well how it feels to lose a beloved spouse and has offered you distance when you need it while also being that voice of reason which ensures you don't do anything drastic in your grief.

He has reminded you time and time again how much Link loves you - enough to surrender himself to Dagianis just to keep you from any terrible fate of your own. Yes, your husband is missed - even Hiroto must admit he misses his son-in-law's presence - yet you'll be doing him no good by getting yourself in trouble. Link, regardless of all his suffering, would at least have some comfort in knowing his wife's safe. You must ensure you're at least that...For him...

Safe, but not necessarily feeling 'alive'. By the time winter returned for another bitter breath, you still felt a numbness to your bones and a sore ache in your heart that refused to fade. You were so tired by that point, unwilling to do much aside from wallow in self pity. This had often led you to sit by the fire, watching the floating embers and listening to the sudden 'pops' as you allowed your thoughts to wander, normally to nothing too important or different until one particularly cold night