Chapter Text
Let's go back a few years.
Hyrule is healing from the Calamity, the people are happy, and the princess is free. You did your job well, hero. But there’s still another problem you need to solve.
For the past few months, Zelda has been insisting Link should be discharged from duty. He’s still unsure what duty she’s referring to. The knights are gone, leaving him to be the final symbol of the old order for the royal family. There isn’t much of a duty without the monarchy. Well, she’s the last remaining monarch, so maybe she is his duty.
It was the reason he brought her to Hateno – where she turned his half-baked attempt at a storage place into a real home just like the rest of their neighbors. Here in their small cabin east of Hyrule, they were able to rest and recover as the world around them continued to change.
For the fourth time that week, she brings up his future over dinner. He isn’t sure how to say he doesn’t really care about his future in a way that doesn’t sound extremely depressing. Is it weird to say she’s his future?
While cutting through a slab of roasted bass, she begins the conversation casually. “I’ve been discussing possible international trade utilizing Lurelin as a port.”
Link hums, signaling he’s listening. He knows where she’s directing this conversation towards. What is the point of her bringing it up once again if she already knows his answer? Regardless, she continues.
“As Hyrule’s progress is heavily reliant on the funds…or rather lack of funds for resources, it's crucial we stay in the good fortunes of neighboring nations.” She takes a bite of her food and points her fork at him. “We’ve been disconnected from the world for over a century. It is a miracle that no other nation has attempted to invade us of our remaining natural assets and land. Thus, in order to prevent any sort of future conflict within this generation and the next, we must resume communications in international affairs. You agree, correct?”
He supposes.
“You should go,” she drops in enthusiastically as if she just thought of the idea. “What better representative of Hyrule than its own savior?”
He can think of a few other candidates.
“Are you planning on coming?” he asks, poking at a piece of broccoli. Zelda sighs and cuts up another piece of her fish.
“Well, as much as I’d like to see what's outside of Hyrule, my responsibilities keep me here. There is always so much to be done. Take, for example, in less than two weeks I’m visiting Tarrey Town to discuss expansion plans with Hudson. Then I have to meet with Yunobo to examine upcoming winter business trade projections for his company. Then next month–” She pauses. “I believe emissaries from Labrynna are arriving… therefore it is imperative that I greet them.”
“Then no,” he cuts in.
“No?”
“I’m not going abroad,” Link says, “I’m not a good diplomat anyway.” He can feel her eyes on him, but he tries to ignore it as he plays with his food. It’s grown cold and slightly stale, but that hasn’t stopped him before. The awfully predictable direction of this conversation is making his stomach turn, however. Maybe some bread would have helped this sorry meal.
“Link…” she starts in a tone he’s heard three times already this week. “This is less about diplomacy, more of a matter of exploration.”
He wishes he made some more bread.
“You enjoy traversing Hyrule, you’ve said as much whenever we go out together.” Zelda sighs, “I think you should return to it, alone.”
“Princess–”
“I know, I know what you’ve told me. You want to be here, I understand that. But, as I’ve said before, you’ve stated you want to be here because I’m here and it feels one-sided.” Next, she’ll say something along the lines of finding a new drive in his life. “You’ve always been my knight and while I am grateful for your protection, Hyrule is different. I am different. The monarchy no longer exists, Link. You’re free. You don’t have to be my knight anymore. You should take back your life.”
“I have decided what to do with my freedom. I choose to stay with you, princess,” he says for the fourth time this week.
“I am eternally grateful for it, please do not ever think I am just throwing that away.” She sighs, “but I don’t know how else to explain it to you. You don’t remember how miserable you were being my knight.”
Miserable is a strong word, Link thinks. He doesn’t remember being miserable during his knighthood. He remembers whispering an oath of loyalty to the golden girl who held so much love for her land and people that it cursed her heart. He remembers holding her perfumed hand under the stars and moon – unable to look into her eyes for he knew his mind would start to dream. He remembers those dreams, dreams that she would look his way and that the love she held for her people would one day turn into the love she held for him.
Does she still not realize how much he loves her? Does he?
“I don’t…want to bring this burden back on you,” she says, finally. “I don’t want you…” She pauses, taking in a deep breath. “I don’t want you to shut down again.”
If he were more intelligent, he would’ve caught on to her statement about shutting down. He would have questioned why she still fears it; he’s here now, talking to her. But he isn’t intelligent.
So instead, he gets annoyed.
“Your solution is to send me away?” he asks, words spilling out of his mouth before his mind can even conjure up a preventative from making this conversation get worse.
“I’m not sending you away. ” Zelda puts down her utensils, staring her former knight down. Ah, it is getting worse already. “I’m giving you an opportunity to start over. I keep giving you opportunities but you keep ignoring them and I don’t understand why! You don’t understand! You don’t even know who you are!”
“I’m sorry I forgot,” he pushes back.
“That is exactly why you should go out there and find something to do outside of this! Following me around like you’re still my knight! Why are you still here? If you've forgotten who you are, why do you insist on playing this made-up role of my protector?” She stands, voice getting louder and louder. She probably doesn’t even realize she’s shouting.
“Because I want to.” He doesn’t match her tone, voice uninterested. Perhaps there is no method of saving this because she groans in agitation.
“That’s not enough, Link.”
Why not? He wants to ask. He has no other reason because he doesn’t need any. In truth, he doesn’t know why he wants to stay with her.
No, that is a lie.
(‘I fought for you, Zelda. Not the people, not this kingdom, and not because it felt right – but because it was for you.’ He tightens his grip on the ancient blue instrument. ‘Please, let me stay with you. We can rebuild together. I don’t care about my childhood, I care about you!’)
He knows exactly why he wants to stay by her side. He likes this simple life they’ve built in this little farming town, east of Hyrule. He wants to stay because every day, Zelda comes home with books collected from the research lab with a wide grin, already talking his ear off about her latest research discoveries. He adores that every weekend, the two of them wake up early to do their laundry together while they laugh at how difficult it is to hang clothes on a windy day. He chases after the bright smile his princess gives him when he offers her a taste of a new dish he’s cooking. Most of all, he likes the nights when she asks for him to stay with her while she sleeps – because at least he can hold the girl his soul yearns for as she finds comfort in his presence.
He wants to stay because he loves her. He loves her, he loves her, he loves her–
But he cannot bring himself to say any of it. Where is your courage, hero?
Instead, he says, “Fine.”
Zelda pauses, leaning back in surprise. “Fine?”
“I’ll go. I can leave in two days.”
“Oh,” she says, unconvinced, surprised . She slowly settles back in her seat, the steam from earlier settling down quickly. “Oh, but that’s extremely sudden. I don’t want to come off as rushing you.” Wasn’t that what she had been trying to do for the past week? When she receives no response, she shifts her gaze down at her food. “Okay! Then yes, um. I’ll help you pack.”
“Right.”
“Right…” Zelda forces a smile but doesn’t make eye contact with Link. It doesn’t matter, he can’t bring himself to look up from his sad plate anyway. He should quickly teach her how to make more dishes. She can’t survive off of eggs, meat, and rice. He should also teach her how to easily cut down the weeds that grow outside, and teach her how to store meat for longevity. Why hasn’t he taught her any of this stuff before? “So…what will you do?”
“Mercenary work, maybe.” He mumbles. He’s not mad, he tries to convince himself. Hurt, he’s a little hurt, because now that he’s agreed to leave she’s happy. Nothing changes, even after a century-long battle.
They both don’t finish their meals and begin to clean up. They wash and dry dishes as they normally do as if there wasn’t an argument between the two of them. But the air is different, there is no humming, no little jokes thrown at each other, nor are there any comments on their busy schedules. Link is leaving in two days, and he no longer knows what to say to this girl he’s come to love.
He could try telling the truth, for once.
No, he won’t, because he still doesn’t know how to even acknowledge the truth. His time as a hero has come to an end and he’s lost his memory, honor, and courage. All he is now is a rejected man clinging onto the one person who knows who he truly was. Or maybe it was flawed from the beginning. It was flawed because he doesn’t think he is that same person. It is flawed because being near her, he so desperately wants to be that person for her but she rejects it.
She rejects it because how can she even stand to be with someone who wears the mask of her dead beloved?
It doesn’t matter, in the end.
The next morning, instead of crushing blueberries like they usually do outside for jam, giggling at how weird the texture feels under their toes – Link spends the morning organizing his gear for travel, as Zelda watches him from above.
If he looks up, he’d see her intense stare – brows furrowed with conflict. If he looks up, Zelda will have gathered her courage and apologized, or maybe she’d tell him ‘Actually, I take it back. I want you to stay because I think I love you but I’m too scared you won’t accept my feelings since you don’t remember me.’ No, that's wishful thinking for a perfect world where she is no longer a princess of a destroyed kingdom, and him a knight for the most intelligent and beautiful girl he has ever met.
He doesn’t look up, and what's left unsaid is never shared.
~~
“It feels a little ridiculous.”
Zelda watches the stairs above her, glaring as if the steps cursed her of its own petty volition. “Four days of healing after recovering my body and you would think I could finally get up some stairs.”
Link doesn’t see it as a problem. It might be because he’s biased; her struggling to walk up stairs means he could pick her up and carry her everywhere.
And he does. Once he’s gotten bored of her silently cursing the inanimate platform, he swoops his arms under her legs and back – to which she lets out a yelp. He misses this; misses her cute little sounds, her warmth against his, and especially misses the pout that sticks onto her lips. He almost tells her that but isn’t sure if that would be weird. Unlike the first few times he’s lifted her, Zelda doesn’t protest against him. Instead, she wraps her arms around him like it's the most natural thing she’s done. It should be, after all this time. He carries her up the offending stairs, skipping a step each time.
“You’ll gather your strength, princess,” Link says. “Until then I am here to assist your needs.”
She sighs, clearly displeased but unwilling to say so.
“Thanks, hero.” She’s clearly teasing him, or being petty, but it causes a drop in his heart. Hero, hero , she’s been calling him that more often lately. Hero of Hyrule, Hero of the Wild, that’s him isn’t it? But he doesn’t feel much of a hero, not when he’s lost his princess time and time again. Not when the woman he’s vowed to has lost her freedom and joy for the sake of her people.
Is it truly heroic to desire the end of the land his princess loves if it means she finally can stay by his side?
“Why do you need to go upstairs?” he says, ignoring the weight that holds his heart down.
“It’s my own home,” she huffs out. “Do I need a reason?”
(‘It’s your home now,’ he told her once. ‘You can do anything you want with it.’ She looked so sad when he said that, but he didn’t point it out. Why should he, when she was the one who told him to leave?)
“But…” She trails off, gently running her fingers along his collar. “Oh, how I miss my bed. And I miss the softness of cotton blankets!” She stops along the first button of his tunic. “And the person who would accompany me under the sheets.”
He raises his eyebrows and she stares back, cheeks puffed up in resistance. She quickly fails in holding back her burst of laughter, and Link drinks up the sound like ancient wine offered to him by the Zonai themselves.
“I missed home,” she says after her giggling dies out, shifting to rest her head against his chest. “It’s good to be back.”
He missed her being home, too. She has become his very definition of home, and nowhere in Hyrule did he feel rested enough without the comfort of her voice accompanying him, just steps ahead.
“Being in the past, I felt as though I forgot about the simplicities of living,” she continues as they reach the top of the staircase. “Back then, I was so focused on getting back because I was scared.” He lays her down on the plush unmade sheets of their bed. “Scared that I would be stuck there, because of my inability to control my powers.” She laughs, “Isn’t it frustratingly absurd, how before I was unable to use my powers at all, yet then I struggled to control the vast amount of divine ability I suddenly had.” Ironic, isn’t it? “In the end, I feared feeling hopeless enough that I would begin to convince myself that this was my new home.”
Unsure what to say to her, he settles down next to her and studies her eyes.
“And oh how badly I wanted to give up controlling my powers – especially after the Imprisoning War,” she continues, shuffling impossibly close to him. She has been doing this a lot lately – like she’s trying to mold herself into him. He’d let it happen if he could. “Queen Sonia and King Rauru were gone, Mineru was dying, and the land alliance was in shambles. I thought…Hyrule was Hyrule, it was still my home.” She lays her head against his shoulder. “Did you know when the Queen and King died, they left an infant alone? He was barely able to walk when we left to fight Ganondorf. How could I focus on returning to my time when I would leave a baby to lead the alliance?”
They spoke about having their own family once, before the Upheaval. But it seems so long ago now. Does she even remember that conversation? He thinks about it every time he sees her with the younger children of Hateno.
“So I stayed. I stayed longer than I wanted. I tried to think of so many ways to aid you in the future, while also helping the people of that time.”
“How long were you there?”
“I believe almost two years.” She grabs his hand. “Though…honestly I don’t even know how old I am now.”
“You don’t look a day over thirteen thousand,” Link says, to which Zelda smacks him lightly on his leg. She hides her grin by looking away from him like she’s ashamed that she finds him funny.
“I helped secure alliances between the different tribes in Hyrule, and made sure the little prince was safe,” she starts, a small smile still painted on her face. “He was so small. Can you imagine being the only ruler of a new kingdom and being so small?”
She was small once. She was such a small girl when she sealed herself to her castle and became a God.
“Eventually, one day I heard this… ringing in my ear. It was as if something, or someone, was calling my name.”
(He hears ringing in his ear, trying to piece together words he can barely translate. Across the hallway of their darkened campus stands a blue woman, beckoning for him to follow. Master…master…it’s time. You must come.)
“It led me to the Temple of Time, and there I saw it. The broken Master Sword.” He didn’t mean to put the Sword into the light, all that time ago. He just thought that was the right thing to do. If he knew then, if he knew.
“Ever since I’ve received the Sword, I knew. I knew what I had to do next.”
Become a God again.
“I was upset,” he says, finally.
“Pardon?”
“Yesterday, you asked why I wasn’t mad at you,” he explains. “I was. But it wasn’t because you left me.”
She waits.
“When I found the truth of your whereabouts. I was angry at everything. I was mad at the Demon King, I was mad at the Gloom that littered the fields, I was mad at the damn flowers that bloomed on that Peninsula after I found your tears.”
At his silence, Zelda lifts her head from his shoulder and watches him. He’s not sure what she sees on his face.
“Oh Link…I’m sorry–”
“No,” he stops her. “It’s not an apology I am looking for. I just…I need…” He huffs out in frustration. He’s not good at words, why is it hard to talk?
Zelda stands, turning herself to stand in front of him – before kneeling and taking both his hands.
“Go ahead,” she beckons softly. He nods and takes another deep breath.
“I…I just need to finish my thought.” He squeezes her hands. “I was mad because I was tired of this. Tired of the two of us dealing with the fate of the world, while everyone else lived their normal lives.”
He wanted to live a normal life with her, but she sent him away. Then he came back, again and again, because even if he tried to live that life – he couldn’t do it without her. Link and Zelda, they’re always a pair, aren’t they?
“I kept thinking, how can anyone live happily, how could I when you’ve sacrificed so much? Is it worth it? All this pain you’ve endured, for other people, for this country . What about yourself? Why couldn’t you be selfish?”
“Oh, beloved…”
“I would’ve been okay if you lived the rest of your life in the past because at least you were living for yourself. I would’ve been sad, lonely, and hurt yes but you don’t know how much your freedom and happiness means to me, Zelda. I would’ve survived knowing you were living on your own terms.”
She sucks in a deep breath.
“But instead, you threw your life away for a sword. I couldn’t even touch the thing for weeks after I found out. I was so disgusted that this happened to you.”
(‘I wish for hope for the Future,’ he says, voice as loud and regal as a King’s should be. ‘I wish for these children to find prosperity in the Future. Leave the sorrows and regrets of the old, and move on to the next generation.’)
“I cursed the Goddess because she could never allow her own kin to live like a normal person. And I’m supposed to be the hero. How am I the hero when all I want is to see you live, even if this world burns? You’ve always been the hero, Zelda. I don’t want you to be one anymore. I want you to be your own person.”
“Oh Link,” she whispers and brings her head against his. “I know, I know.” He’s not crying, he has no tears for his anger anymore.
“I’ve missed you, beloved. I missed you for hundreds of lifetimes. Please, do not make me wait anymore,” he begs, from the deepest part of his immortal soul.
“I won't,” she says. “I swear it. I’m right here.”
With nothing else to say, he cups her cheeks and gasps when she leans into his touch. Bringing her closer to him, he presses his lips against her and listens as she sighs into him.
Even though thirteen thousand years have passed within her ancient divine form, her lips are still soft, oh so soft, against his. He carves it into his memory for another thirteen thousand more.
~~
‘We’ve all waited seven years for you, hero. Surely you can wait a few more weeks before seeing your princess again,’ the Sheikah boy snarks at him.
But he doesn’t want to wait a few weeks. He didn’t even know he was gone for seven years. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Where is Zelda?
‘What will you do if she’s dead? Will you fight still? Will you give up?’
‘I don’t know,’ he says because he is alone.
‘What of your courage, hero?’
‘I don't know!’
~~
A few years ago, when he leaves her in an attempt to “find himself” – as Zelda insists he does instead of staying by her side – he can’t stop thinking of her.
He does give the idea of “freedom” a chance – truly! He traverses through all four corners of Hyrule. He greets Sidon, ignoring the construction of the new statue that the Zora prince insists is a surprise and has nothing to do with Link. He participates in diving tournaments with century-old friends – ignoring how his mind wanders onto imagining how Zelda would cheer for him to dive farther than the rest.
He stops by to check in with Yunobo, who grows braver and louder every day. When they catch up on some much-needed rest after a long day of clearing roads in the hot springs, he avoids thinking about the red flush that colors Zelda’s cheeks as she settles into the comforting steaming waters.
He flies to Rito village, congratulating Teba on his new title of village chieftain, and entertains his ever-growing son Tulin with a friendly competition of archery (he lets the boy win so he can watch him squeal with joy and pride). Kass’s children, who beg him to stay longer than planned, demand he watch their practiced performance with their father. As Kass plays a new musical piece, Link closes his eyes and fights his mind when it pictures Zelda’s voice unconsciously humming the melody as she sways her body side to side.
And finally, he invites himself into Gerudo Town to watch Riju take on her first few sword-fighting lessons. He no longer has to pretend of not thinking of Zelda during his time in the desert, as Riju asks constantly about her wellbeing.
Every night, try as he might, his mind wanders to his princess staying in their – well now it's her little cabin in Hateno. Does she still have nightmares? Is she alone, shivering under her covers while haunted by the whispers of the past? Who will soothe her anxieties in the dark of night? When was the last time she had pumpkin stew? She always enjoyed carving out the seeds with him – making little faces out of the starchy vegetable. Is she still carving them while prepping her stew? He never got to teach her how to even make that dish because he assumed he would always be there by her side.
So he decides to go visit her, if only briefly.
He was never given back the Sheikah Slate after Purah borrowed (or rather confiscated, after yelling at Link for damaging it) the device to make some “modifications”, as she called it. Thus there wasn’t any way he could really contact Zelda. He could’ve sent a letter, sure, but after their initial separation, he felt it would be awkward to send anything that had to do with his presence.
Well, she did say to not be a stranger anyway.
But what would he even say to her? They haven’t spoken in three months. Does he just say ‘Hey, I forgot something here, actually, and I remembered it now as I coincidentally pass by Hateno.’ Or ‘Hey, was just stopping by as I’m exploring around Hyrule. I’m having a great time missing you. You’re all I think about.’ Maybe he should just start with ‘Hey, how are you doing?’
After two more weeks of contemplating silly things like seeing her smile again, Link makes his way east of Hyrule – to Hateno – and knocks on the front door.
She doesn’t answer.
The first thought that crosses through Link’s mind is, well, there are no lights coming out of the windows. She’s clearly not home. If anything, she’s most likely on an errand and is walking around town. Link, on the other hand, didn’t think of the possibility of Zelda simply being out of the house by the time he arrived. Now what?
He could explore the village, as he hasn’t been around in three months. But if she’s running errands, he doesn’t want their first meeting to be in the middle of the village’s center, in front of everyone.
So he decides to sit and wait there.
Logically, if Zelda were running around the village, she would not be out long. At most, she would arrive within the hour, and Link is a very patient man. He also made sure to arrive a little past noon, as he remembered her habit of consistently stopping by home for a quick lunch when he lived with her – if she were at the research lab.
(Link considered checking the lab itself, but he didn’t want to run into Purah as well, which would’ve been another nuisance to deal with.)
It doesn’t occur to him how weird it is to sit outside the house until half an hour into waiting. Their house (no, her house) is luckily far enough from the main town square that many don’t visit unless there’s a reason to. There isn’t any reason for someone to peek over and just see him sitting outside the door. But it’s still the possibility that makes him a bit agitated in his little sorry seat on the overgrown grass.
So he decides to hike up the mountain behind their ( her) cabin. It isn’t a terribly far and hard hike – as it only takes him less than an hour to make it to the top. He doesn’t necessarily have a plan on what to do once he makes it other than sit around and wait until he thinks it’s fine to check if she’s back home.
The cherry blossom tree on top has finally bloomed for the season and left a blanket of fallen petals surrounding its trunk. As he sits down comfortably, he thinks about the time the two of them made the climb up together with only an old blanket and a basket filled with sweet bread and various freshly made fruit jams. There wasn’t any purpose behind that picnic other than to enjoy the fresh air and have a moment of respite before heading outside of Hateno again to oversee construction in Hyrule Field. As he set up their goods, Zelda captured a small cerulean beetle to study. If he closes his eyes, he can still see the glow behind her eyes as she held the bug up against the skies.
Perhaps coming here was a bad idea.
No, not to the mountain, not to this little spot with the bloomed cherry blossom tree, but to Hateno. He shouldn’t be here because what did he think was going to happen? He can’t even think about what he would say to her when he sees her. He left for three months, she might be angry that he hasn’t contacted her at all. Or maybe she isn’t, as she never attempted to reach him.
But how could she? He ran off before they could really fix what happened between them. Does she even want to see him?
He can’t stay here. He can’t even face her. He digs into his travel pouch and pulls out a note. He’ll leave something for her, something to say that he’s doing alright, traveling a lot, and he’s having fun in Hyrule. Maybe a short apology for making things awkward and inconvenient for her. Words aren’t his thing, but he’ll figure it out.
When he is satisfied with what is written, Link gathers his gear and makes his way back down. Not much time passed since he made his appearance in town, so he doubts that Zelda has made it home by now.
When the cabin comes back into view, the lights are still out, and no blonde-haired princess is spotted. Standing in front of her door, Link lets out a sigh, folds his little note, and crouches down to slip the paper under the sill. It’s harder than he thought – the paper pushes against some sort of blockage on the other side.
Frustrated, Link pushes harder, and considers trying to get in to drop the note on her table. He remembers that both of them would leave their front door key under the nearby potted plant. Even if it’s still there, isn’t that considered breaking in? But it used to be their house and she told him he could visit so he’s sure she wouldn’t mind. But then how awkward would it be if she opened the door and he–
He hears steps on the grassy ground halt behind him. Turning around, he sees her.
“Link?”
~~
He doesn’t remember this, but one hundred and seven years ago, the hero gathers his courage in order to save his princess.
In truth, he is quickly tiring of watching his young princess scream and shout at a Goddess who refuses to acknowledge her mortal daughter. He tires of her hatred towards her own inability. He tires of the people, who mumble under their breath as she walks by – cursing her efforts – as if she doesn’t pray for the survival of each living being who dares to walk all over her name.
He could save her, he will save her. Why should she continue to suffer for a land that sullies her very soul?
On their way out of the Spring of Power, Link squeezes her shaking hand.
“I’m sorry,” she barely musters out. Her throat is dry, for seconds ago she was begging for something. Anything, other than silence. Link doesn’t look at her, focused on guiding her out of the sacred site. She stumbles out of the waters and clings onto his tunic. They stop.
“I don’t…” She starts again, “I don’t know what to do anymore.” Her hair covers her defeated eyes, which refuse to look up.
Make your move hero, save her.
“Then let's leave,” he says.
Zelda looks up finally, straightening slightly and eyes wide. “Leave?”
“Yes,” he answers, voice gentle. “Let’s leave.”
Her eyes squint a little, not dissimilar to how she looks when she analyzes something new. He smiles, small but reassuring. He can hear her confused question from a mile away.
“Not just here, Your Highness,” he clarifies. “Hyrule. Let’s run from it all.”
She’s still staring at him, expression quickly becoming unreadable.
He doesn’t falter. Courage.
“None of this should be put on you. You have sacrificed years of your adolescence just to pray because of a premonition. Yet no matter your efforts, you are ridiculed and shamed by grown men and women who do nothing but lay back and sit upon their riches.” He pulls her closer to him; she’s freezing and he almost wraps his arms around her. “You…no, the both of us, have been carrying the weight of this nation far too long. We’re children, Your Highness. Why must we do this for people who do not care for our well-being?” She sucks in a deep breath. Courage. “Take back your life, princess. Let us be free of this. We can live in total anonymity across the ocean. You can finally pursue any research your heart desires.” And what of him? He takes a shaky breath – he’d known his answer long ago. “I…I’ll just work as a mercenary who you hired. Or maybe a farmer. Whatever you wish. We can finally live simple lives as ourselves.” He feels his cheeks warming up at the image.
Imagine that? They’ll have to have different names, but they can figure it out later. He would take any job he could get, and they’d build a simple cabin for just the two of them. Maybe they won’t even stay there often, they could travel around the world. Anywhere outside of this cursed country. Let it fall, let it burn if it means she’s free.
She hasn’t said anything yet. He’s losing sight quickly.
“Or,” he bashfully adds, “I apologize if I am being presumptuous of you wanting me there. I, um, I’d like to stay with you until I die,” he lets out. “Of course with your consent. I don’t mean to act as your knight per se but–”
Link immediately quiets down when Zelda finally straightens up fully and lets go of her tight hold of him. They stay like that, frozen in silence.
“You wish to leave?” she quietly asks.
Courage.
“I wish for us to leave, Your Highness. For your sake.”
She raises her hand and strikes him.
He doesn’t feel the initial slap, nor does he feel the sting that follows after – but the weight of her hand on his face forces him to turn, leaving him there in shock.
“How dare you,” she spits out, the vice of defeat and timidness long forgotten. “How dare you think I would leave my country.”
He says nothing, still reeling from her strike.
“All this time, you’ve seen me as weak – incapable of fulfilling my destiny – haven’t you?” she continues, loud and regal. “So much so you would abandon your duty, your home, because of your lack of faith?”
No, that's not–
“You dare think I would willingly do the same? Throw away the years I’ve spent on my knees in prayer to save this land? Run off as if nothing mattered in the end?”
No! He just–
“I have tried to open my heart to you, trusting that you would understand. I believed you and I were the same.” Her voice lowers to almost a whisper. “But I was mistaken. Goddess, you really think I am the failure my father believes.”
“No–” He finally faces her but she holds her hand up; almost as if she was to slap him again. Yet she pauses.
“You think that I am selfish enough to abandon my people? What of your father, your family – would you have them burn under the Calamity while you play pretend in whatever nation you choose?”
He hasn’t seen her anger directed at him in months.
“Do you realize you are willing to commit treason? And what if we leave; do you think the beast will stop at Hyrule? It will destroy everything within its reach! You’re just delaying reality because…” She lets out a breath he didn’t even realize she was holding in. “Because you think I can’t do this. You…you’ve lost faith in me just like the rest of them.”
And what can he say to that?
He tries to gather his words – think hero, think – yet nothing comes out. She’s wrong, she’s very wrong but he can’t bring himself to speak. Everything is falling, time is ticking and his silence is louder than ever, stabbing harder into his princess’s already shattered heart. He did this, he did this to her all because he’s selfish–
With no response, Zelda wraps her arms around herself. She stands tall, yet she looks smaller than ever. She moves past him, hitting his shoulder on her way down the trail. It’s the collision of their bodies that finally wakes Link from his stupor and he gathers the last of his breath.
“Zelda, wait–”
“Do not,” she hisses out, refusing to look back at him. “Do not call me by my name. You forget who you are, knight .”
With that, she continues on, leaving with the world still on her shoulders.
~~
“Link?”
“Hmm?”
She’s silent for a while, to the point where Link raises his head from her chest to see if she fell back asleep. No, she’s staring up at the ceiling. It shakes with the strong gusts of wind outside. They were supposed to fix the roof months ago, before the Upheaval. Well, that’ll be an issue for later, he thinks.
“Were you ever upset that I told you to leave?” she asks, voice small.
“Back before the Calamity?” he asks. She’s already apologized tenfold, and there’s no reason he’d be upset at her when he’d give the sun and moon to her.
“No…back when we argued about your future, all those years ago.”
“Ah,” he responds.
Silence.
“No,” he finally answers. “I was never upset at you, remember?”
“You don’t have to lie,” she says.
But he’s not. He says as much to her.
“I just…I broke your heart,” she sighs.
“It’s hardly broken now,” he replies. Zelda laughs at this. It’s a small, short laugh, but she’s finally looking at him with a smile.
“Link…Do you remember your past lives?”
(‘Though our time together was brief, I feel as though I’ve known you my whole life,’ she says, handing him the ocarina – the damn instrument that started this whole thing. ‘You’ll come back, won't you, Link?’)
He thinks about his answer. He’s not sure what the truth or lie is, but he remembers being twelve years old once and seeing visions of different bodies, different heroes.
“Not really. Do you?”
“I don’t, at least I don't think so. But…I have dreams,” she says. “Lots of them, I don’t know what any of them mean, but I think they were my – no, our – past lives.”
“Mmm.” He buries his head in the space between her neck and collarbone. She’s warm, and he’s sleepy. They can continue this conversation later.
“Do you understand why I sent you away?” she asks after another moment of silence.
She sent him away to live his life, which is foolish because he was alive when he was with her, just like he is now. When he doesn't answer, she sighs.
“I think we’ve always been connected.” I feel as though I’ve known you my whole life. “As if we don’t have a choice other than to find each other. Do you understand what I mean?” I knew that if it meant putting Zelda in danger, you would come no matter what. I used you, Link. “I began to convince myself that you only thought you were happy because you were with me.”
Link the Hero will always come running to be with Zelda the Princess.
“Isn’t that tiring, Link?”
It is. It is tiring because he’s always the hero but he’s never won without Zelda the Princess’s suffering. He’s tired because Link the Hero has to watch Zelda the Princess take the weight of the world again and again and in the end never find true happiness within herself. He’s tired because Link the Hero can be selfish and free but Zelda the Princess is selfless and immortal, she is Hyrule and when Hyrule is broken she is broken.
Isn’t that true courage? To be able to give up being selfish?
“Not really.”
“Hmm,” she finally says. “I’m just overthinking again.” She settles into her pillow. “Good night, Link.”
They’re silent again, and the roof keeps getting louder. Is it raining? Why is it always raining when something serious happens? The Goddess has a funny sense of humor.
“Hey, Zelda?”
She hums.
“Within all our lives we’ve had, I’m happy I get to be reborn with you.”
She holds her breath, unable to respond.
“You’re the bravest person in the world. Every single lifetime I hope you see that.”
Maybe he does have a way with words, after all. Courage, hero. You’ll find your voice again one day.