Luminescence

Luna

On a pad of folded blankets in front of his fireplace, the winged girl lay motionless on her stomach. Though her wounds had been entirely healed, she had yet to regain consciousness. Half of his attention watched how the fire played across the girl's feathers. More than once he had given in to the temptation to touch those winter white feathers. They were just as Ilia said and softer than the finest silk. He also discovered a small, blue stone peeking out between her bangs of white hair. It had changed colors since then, however, and now looked more like dull silver. He could only guess that it was important.

She was here because Bo and Ilia had figured Link's place would be the best to store her for now until they could think of somewhere else, because at the moment their own home was filled to bursting with (horny) teenage boys and the other villagers didn't have much room to speak of either. So, not thinking much of it, Link had popped out his lift (which he usually used to bring up large things into his tree house), and pulled up the girl.

Now, here he sat, hours later and unable to sleep, staring at her. Link knew it had to be late—ungodly late by the itch in his eyes—but his mind wouldn't stay still. It kept buzzing with thoughts of Midna and images of the shadow beasts. It annoyed him. He should be wondering more about why a supposedly omniscient light spirit didn't know who let alone what this girl was, and yet all he could think about was that damn, impish smile and long Twilian legs. More than once he had growled to himself and slammed his forehead to the floor. He could already feel a bruise developing there.

A small groan broke him out of his thoughts. The feathers he had been staring at twitched and a hand rubbed at her eyes.

"Ah, look who's waking up."

She pulled back her hand and blinked up at him blearily. Her eyes were even bluer than he remembered. He smiled down at her warmly.

"'ello. How do you feel?"

She eased herself onto her knees and rustled her wings into a tight fold against her back, but didn't answer. She examined herself through the loose fitting nightgown. When she turned her attention back up at him he got a good look at her face framed by waves of softly curling white hair. It was smooth and white as he had thought, oval, with a petite mouth and nose. The blue eyes examined him meticulously.

"Yes, that's me. The name's Link." A thought occurred to him. "Do you, uh, understand me?"

She nodded. He couldn't help but feel relieved. That made everything so much easier.

"Great! So, you hungry? You can tell me about yourself as you eat. I kept some leftover stew for you. I'm afraid it's the only thing I'm particularly good at making."

She blinked at him. Then nodded again, still without a word. Hoping he wasn't making her feel too awkward, he stood up and walked around her to the fire to grab a bowl and filled it. He could feel her gaze on his back. When he handed it to her she took it with cautious hands and sniffed it before taking an equally cautious bite. She seemed surprised at the taste.

"Good?"

She nodded again and took a bite, this time much more eagerly.

"So...you have a name?"

Pausing to chew on a bite, she shrugged.

"So, no name?"

Again, she shrugged. He was beginning to wonder if she really did understand him.