Archive of Our Own

It's full of life, this beautiful place. As you walk, the songs of woodland creatures surround you, tingling your delicate sense of hearing. There is the symphony of crickets, their gentle chirping in sync with your feet rustling the contents of the forest floor.

You smell the earthy vapor in the air — the rain has only recently dissipated, leaving behind moist sod and the trickling of water as it pulls toward the ground from leaves and stems. Then, there is the luscious vegetation, the scent of pollen and ripening fruit, a staple within this land aplenty.

Yet, despite all the movement in the forest, the animals settling in for the night, the wind through the treetops, the babbling of the brook, you feel very alone.

But it is not the bad sort of alone. It is the sort of alone that brings you comfort and solace.

Relief washes over you. You soak the forest in, watching the sunlight filter through the canopy, relishing in the subtle warm as the sun takes its leave, saluting you as it is led away by a fiery chariot into the horizon.

It is just you and the land, the precious resource that has supported life since the inception of humanity and even before then. It is what is pure in the world, acres of pristine nature, brimming with plants and animals of all kinds — they live among you, breathing the same air and drinking the same water.

You are alone, and this feeling of peace is enough.

You do not know and have never known that you are being followed. He does this every time you slip away from the village. Dangers have gathered abroad, and he wishes to watch over you, despite the inconvenience of having to trek through the forest to do so. He is silent, stealthy, and he keeps his distance in such a way that you never suspect a thing.

You take a breath, the night draping over the land in its blanket of stars and distant planets — you can see the darkening sky through the branches, and you lean against the trunk of a tree, admiring this serenity that you have found. You think about sharing this with someone, but then you wonder if that would make a moment like this lose its magic, its fascination.

So you change your mind and decide to think of other things, pensive toward the happenings of the day. You remember the fight you had with the customer at the inn. You think of how else you could have addressed the unreasonable man who spat venomous words at you, called you names, and stormed out as though he had received the worst service of his life.

But they were just words, and he was being immature.

And among this peace and solitude, you let them go.

You think of your dog, who had soiled your carpet because you had neglected to let her out. It was a new carpet, too, a gift from your relatives because they thought your home was too barren.

The moment is gone, and cool air touches your face.

That frustration is gone.

The amount of rupees in your purse is growing light, and you wonder how you will pay your rent to the landlord in the next month. You must also set aside enough money for food and candles and soap.

But you can work more hours and negotiate with the vendors at the marketplace, you are sure. From the corner of your eye, you see a deer, craning its neck toward you as if to acknowledge your presence. It then bounds away, and so do your worries.

You sigh a good sigh, and settle down at the base of the tree. Just a few more moments to allow you to forget the stress of your life — that is all you need. Perhaps you need more, but this is all that you can handle for now, and in the forest, surrounded by peace, you are alone to bask in your thoughts.

As alone as you can be, at any rate. If you are not aware of his watchful eyes, then who are you to say that you are not alone?

For all the benefits of your solitude, he would not take it away. The Hero of Hyrule will just have to continue to remain unseen, and you — well, you will continue to believe that you are alone in your forest.