Chapter Text
“Those? Those are called the Dueling Peaks. Once upon a time, thousands of years ago, our goddess Hylia split that mountain in half so we could talk to the people who lived on the other side of it. Can you say Dueling Peaks, Link? Go ahead, honey. Dueling… Dueling-- ”
“Don’t waste your time, dear,” said Link’s father with a characteristic gruffness, from the other side of the front door that had been left open this evening to invite the breeze.
Link, just barely four years old in this distant memory, was seated on his mother’s lap on the porch of their meager house on the Great Plateau. Night was descending leisurely over the horizon, and the air was cool with the promise of the oncoming winter. But his mother was always warm, and he had wordlessly stood before her with his arms outstretched until she picked him up.
“Oh, be quiet, would you? Link will talk when he’s ready.” His mother said sweetly, brushing the hair away from Link’s face and giving him a peck on the temple. “Besides, if he’s anything like you, he’ll never know when to shut up. We’d better cherish the silence while we’ve got it.”
Link’s father snorted and gave some sort of retort, but Link was too busy pointing at another figure in the distance to hear it. He made an insistent noise until his mother looked out to what he was trying to indicate.
“Are you talking about the volcano? That’s Death Mountain. Pretty scary, huh? There’s people there who eat rocks, can you believe it?”
Link turned to wrinkle his nose at her in disgust.
“Sounds like your cooking,” His father chuckled, stepping outside and closing the door behind him. “Are you educating our son about Hyrule?”
“To the best of my ability, seeing as I’ve never gone much further than Hyrule field.”
“Ah, but I have. Give him here.” His father reached down to swing Link up into his arms. Link eagerly clutched at the front of his father’s shirt and followed where he was pointing. “See that? That’s the Castle of Hyrule, where I used to work long ago. Maybe someday, you’ll be a knight just like your old man, hm?”
His mother smiled up at them. “Maybe someday, you’ll go exploring all these places. And you can come back and tell us about your adventures.”
The cold water was a well needed shock to Link’s system this early in the morning. With the sound of carpenters getting to work as the sun rose everyday, he almost preferred when he used to have to sleep outdoors. Just once , he thought, I’d like to sleep in. He was glad that they were making such progress on the reconstruction of Hyrule Castle, he just wished they could keep it down, you know? Savior of Hyrule trying to get some damn shut-eye over here .
It had taken a few months before it had become halfway livable, but once it was, Zelda offered him his old bedroom back. It should have felt more like coming home, but that's neither here nor there. Memory loss leaves unseen wounds that extend beyond the lack of remembering.
Of course, being in his old room meant that he was just down the hall from Zelda again. He heard her quiet footsteps, late into the night, when she would pace the halls of the Castle. He heard her idle outside his door before walking-- stomping, more like it-- away. He knew he was merely the strawman for her anger. He knew that there was no easy cure to this sort of hurt. He knew not to follow her.
Painful as it was for both of them, they didn’t have the answers for each other’s woes. All they could do was grin and bear it, but at least they were doing so together again, as they had been for the past couple of years.
The knock at Link’s door came right as he was walking out of his room’s personal bathroom. He tossed the damp towel in the general direction of his bed but it landed on the floor much like a lot of his belongings. Hero of Hyrule or not, he was still a young man.
Eila, an Rito woman that was part of the domestic staff and aided Zelda often, stood outside. “Good morning, Link. Her royal highness asked me to tell you that she is unable to join you for your meeting this morning, but she will come find you when she is available.”
Link asked through a yawn, “Where’s she going?”
“I’m not sure, she didn’t tell me.”
“Okay, well, thanks for letting me know.” Link began to close the door but was interrupted by Eila stepping forward just a little.
“Uh, Link, sir--” Eila said, and Link tried not to cringe at the “sir” title that everyone insisted on using for him these days, “Perhaps this is a bit out of line, but I thought it would be helpful to let you know she’s being… rather--”
“Zelda-ish?”
Eila winced and shrugged. “I’d say difficult .”
“Sounds like her. Thanks for the heads up.”
“You’re welcome,” she smiled, “Have a nice day, sir.”
He nodded once and closed the door.
After getting dressed (in clean clothes, now that was something he appreciated about being back in the Castle) and pulling his hair back into a loose braid at the back of his neck, he set out. The sun was making quick work of warming the stone walls, but it wasn’t quite there yet. He crossed his arms in front of his chest to fend off the morning chill. Carpenters, metalsmiths, and maids alike paid him no attention as he strolled by, the charm of heroism having been lost by the normalcy of living with one another. Zelda was as generous as any monarch should be, and gave the laborers room and board either in one of the Castle’s many visitor suites or hastily rebuilt homes just beyond the moat in way of thanks for their hard work. In a decade or two, perhaps Hyrule would be returned to its former glory entirely if the current pace was anything to go off of.
There was a particular pride in Link’s heart. It’s not that he took all the credit for the restoration, no, that was a deliberate and enduring effort from all the people of Hyrule. He merely got the ball rolling, simply demonstrated that it was possible. But he was proud of them. And he was proud of himself, too.
The chapel on the way to the dining hall was easy to miss. The faded wooden door opened to a modestly decorated room, with just a few rows of pews leading to a statue of Hylia. It was larger than most others in Hyrule, reaching nearly to the ceiling. Link knelt before her as he did each morning. He humbly touched his forehead to the cold pedestal she stood on and prayed. He no longer prayed for her to bestow strength upon him, nor did he plead with her to see how hard he was fighting and to be kind enough to lend a hand. In fact, his prayers were mostly silent. He just offered a moment for them to be alone together in quiet contemplation, and to remind her that he had not forgotten what she had done for him. For all of them.
Link was late to the breakfast hall as usual. The chefs rose before the sun, preparing for the castle staff to enter in their sleepy droves before starting the day’s work. Most of the serving plates had been picked over, though Link did manage to snag a generous slice of ham and some strange exotic fruit, no doubt imported from Faron. The early harvests were excellent this year. He sat himself at the end of a dining table, far apart the last few lingerers, and sank his teeth into the juicy flesh of something not-quite-peach-like but delicious all the same. Typically, he ate breakfast with Zelda. Or rather, she waited impatiently for him to finish and prattled tersely about the kingdom’s going-ons. Link loosely listened and offered insight when it was requested, but otherwise focused on his food.
He assumed that Zelda just felt compelled to tell him these things out of courtesy, in respect to his status as the most highly decorated royal knight. Mostly, Link just appreciated the time spent with her, rare as it was.
He honestly hadn’t been sure what to expect after their reunion, but he knew it wasn’t this. During the day, Zelda was often nowhere to be found while she busied herself with the reconstruction plans. Queenhood suited her. She wore her royal responsibility like a second skin, born and bred for it. Despite the lack of any official coronation, Zelda slid into the role easily. Hyrule was desperate enough for leadership that they gladly forwent tradition, and followed her into a new dawn.
Link wished he felt as saved. When he saw Zelda, he saw the weight of the world on her trembling shoulders. He saw the righteous rigidity born from years of relentless suffering. He saw the grief-- after all, it was the same home they lost. Few Hylians remember the world before it sunk into the Calamity. Link and Zelda were largely alone in their particular sorrows. She ached as he ached, yet somehow their twin agonies only distanced them.
He longed for her to heal, perhaps even more than he longed for it himself. Perhaps it was because he was the last man alive who knew her, really knew her, before all of this. Mostly, she was foreign to him. A stranger who only mimicked the girl he once knew like the back of his hand. The brief glimpses of true familiarity only startled him now. It felt as though Zelda would never be Zelda ever again. Lost to time were the long nights spent reading together by candlelight, the childish pranks they would play on one another, the hugs and the laughter and the trust.
Link finished his breakfast alone.
He steepled his fingers under his chin and watched across the grand room. Decorators deftly hung newly dyed tapestries on either side of freshly installed stained glass windows. Hyrule Castle was not only being restored but thoroughly renovated to meet more modern expectations. It would be a sight to behold upon its completion, though that was still several years away.
“Are you finished, sir?”
Link jumped, startled by the voice of a young Zora kitchen staff member from behind him. He stepped back apologetically, “Oh, sorry, I--”
Chuckling, Link assured him, “No, you’re alright. Just lost in thought.” When he began to collect Link’s tableware in silence, Link asked, “Did Zelda come down for breakfast already?”
“I don’t believe so, sir. I can ask the other staff if they’ve seen her?”
Link shook his head, “That’s okay, I’m up for a scavenger hunt.”
The Zora smiled, nodded, and left in the direction of the kitchen.
The corridors of the Castle uncurled their winding paths before Link as he searched for Zelda. The architecture lacked precision as a byproduct of having been expanded and remodeled dozens of times over several centuries. If it wasn’t for the many years that Link lived here, both before and after the Calamity, he would’ve had no hope in exploring it on his own. He remembered so many years ago when he first achieved royal knighthood and was quartered here. Then, the sprawling halls were daunting. Now, they were home.
He peeked into every room he came across while sidestepping the many workers and their tools. Mid-morning light shone through the windows in bursts, some reaching brilliant colors from the stained glass near the ceilings. Hyrule was waking up to a beautiful, peaceful day, and everyone was similarly thankful. Soon, the Gerudo women would stretch languidly in the sun, and Zoras would rise from their sleeping pools. The Gorons would take up their mining work while they sang together, the Ritos would launch into the bluing sky. Morning looked different for every Hyrulean, but they were certainly safer times now, at least.
He ascended the Castle’s floors until he reached the hall with Zelda’s study at the end. The hall was wide though the ceilings drooped lower than most within the Castle, likely because the royal quarters were some of the oldest parts of all. It appeared as though it was being assessed for structural repairs.
Link tentatively tapped a man holding some kind of tool that he couldn’t even begin to understand and asked, “Uh, excuse me? Do you know if Queen Zelda is in her study?”
The man gave him a look that read, aren’t you her babysitter? and gruffly replied, “Yeah, she went in awhile ago. Was carrying a load of books. Looked real serious, too.”
That was nothing out of the ordinary. Zelda had always been a voracious reader and frequented the library since she first learned to walk. But the tone of voice in which the carpenter spoke to Link had him furrowing his brow. He nodded in thanks and approached the ornate study door.
He knocked and knelt before the door, head bowing out of habit. Despite his own high ranking, it was custom not to greet a king or a queen with eye contact. Prior to the Calamity, Zelda’s status as a princess made her exempt from this rule. This was one of the many new habits he’d had to learn when interacting with her. It was merely a formality, and had it not been for the others lingering nearby, Link wouldn’t have adhered so strongly to the rules. But he knew, especially with their friendship in this rocky state, he could not disrespect her in front of other subjects.
The old door sighed open.
Link began to speak, “Your--”
“I was going to come get you when I was finished .”
He rolled his eyes at the floor where she could not see. “Your highness,” he greeted her and continued in his best knight voice, keenly aware of the watchful eyes on his back, “I was concerned for the royal lady’s wellbeing.”
“I’m just fine. Thank you for your concern,” she said coldly, “Well, if you’re already here, then come in.”
With Zelda’s permission, Link rose and looked at her. Her eyes were sunken with sleeplessness. She wore her delicate morning robe with her arms crossed tightly over her chest. Link did not comment on her disheveled appearance, but stepped around her and entered the study.
Zelda closed the door with a little more force than necessary and said, “Don’t make me point out the fact that I’m your queen and you’re supposed to listen to me at least once in a while.”
Link shrugged, “You’re the queen, I can’t make you point out anything.”
Zelda narrowed her eyes. The corner of Link’s mouth twitched upward. She said, “Alright, fine. Come here.” She crossed the room to her wide desk by the window and Link followed close behind.
On her desk were several books on geography, travel, and Hyrulean cultural overviews per region. They framed a topographically-minded map of Hyrule, one in which several locations were circled in black ink. A dotted line ran jaggedly through the terrain, connecting them in a loop. Link’s eyes scanned over it briefly, then returned to Zelda. She was staring at him expectantly. He asked, “What’s… this?”
Zelda sighed and ran her fingers and pushed stray strands of short, golden hair from her away from her face. “A travel plan. I want to visit all these places and this is the route that I’d like to take.”
Link looked back down at the map. “Uh huh.”
“I need your input. You’re the only person who has gone-- well, everywhere , and your insight is… valuable.” Zelda crossed her arms. “I was up all night doing the necessary research for this sort of trip, and I believe I’ve determined the most efficient path. I’ve also created a list of necessary supplies, though I’ve included several small townships and stables on the way for restocking.”
Link blinked at her. “Zelda, I-- why?”
She set her jaw and looked away. “Because... I think that I might be interested in writing a book.”
Link waited for her to continue, but when she didn’t, he prompted, “What sort of book?”
Zelda was quiet for a moment in contemplation. Then, she turned and gazed out the window. She finally said, “So much of it… is just gone. People. Homes. Stories .” She glanced down, placed a hand on the sturdy, dark wood of her desk. “My father gifted this to me when I was ten. He told me the finest woodworker in all of Hyrule made it special for me. I asked if I might be able to thank him for such beautiful work, but he told me that it was from Deya Village and it was too far away. Maybe when you’re older and you start learning royal relations, you can visit, he told me. But by the time I reached that age and I was off on fifteen or twenty surveys a year, I forgot. I never went to Deya. And now there’s nothing there. I can never thank him for the desk I spent half my childhood sitting at. In all likelihood, there’s not a single family member of his left.”
Link’s eyes fell from her face and he looked out the window as well. It revealed Hyrule Field, shimmering with its morning dew. It was still largely empty, but homes sprouted up here and there, reclaiming what had been lost for so long.
“I see parts of chimneys, or half-buried shields. I see fences in the middle of nowhere. Were there houses there? Who built them? Who died and can only be remembered in the abstract memory of a fence they left behind? Who died and left nothing? ” Zelda’s voice turned momentarily brittle, and she took a moment to steel herself. “Link, I feel like I’ve lost touch with my people. I want to visit them, I need them to know I feel the weight of their loss too. I want to collect their stories. I want to collect their stories, their folklore, their traditions, anything they want to give me. And I want to bind it into a book, so that… so that next time Ganon comes for us, we aren’t truly lost forever.”
Link closed his eyes. He thought of everything his family might have told him if they were alive now. He thought of his neighbors on the Plateau, what their families might have told their children. Lost to time.
He leaned over the map Zelda had presented him with. “May I?” He asked, gesturing to the ink and quill at her desk.
She looked back at him. “Go ahead.”
Link wet the quill and redirected part of the path to cut over the top of Piper Ridge in southern Tabantha. “You don’t need to follow the road around here, the climb isn’t steep. I remember this from visiting Kaysa.”
“Kaysa?”
“The Great Fairy. Her fountain is on the other side of the Ridge. This will cut a few hours off the hike. You also…” he trailed off, retracing another path, “Yeah, you also don’t want to go on the north side of the Korok Forest. The weather is unpredictable and the land is rough. If you go to the south side, you’ll reach the Military Training Camp here,” he circled the appropriate location, “Resupplying there will be necessary after getting out of Hebra.”
Zelda stepped closer and examined his work wordlessly.
Link figured that if she wasn’t telling him to shut up, it was safe to continue. “You also don’t need to follow the same path out of the Zora Domain that you took to get in there. Cutting across the dam and going towards Lanayru Bay will get you to Kakariko in half the time. From there, though, everything else you planned looks… solid. We might have to make minor adjustments along the way, but this looks very well done.”
Zelda pursed her lips. “ We? ”
“Well,” Link said slowly, “You can’t go alone.”
She put her hands on her hips. “Obviously, but that doesn’t mean you have to come with me. I was merely requesting your expert knowledge of the land. This is a several weeks-long journey, Link.”
“Yeah, it is,” Link shrugged, “And I was out there for… three, three and a half years? I can handle a few weeks.”
“I meant that I was going to take other knights with me.”
Link was struck by the casual tone of her voice. He faltered for a moment and then said, “But I’m your knight.”
Immediately, he wished that he could retrieve the words and tuck them back inside him. He didn’t like putting his feelings on display, especially to someone who had been less than welcoming towards them. He steeled himself and swallowed her words down like poison.
Zelda faltered for a moment, then said, “Link--”
Quickly, he added, “I mean, It’s your choice. There are plenty of capable knights who can get the job done. Let me know if you need my-- my expertise , or whatever, before you leave.” He backed away from the table and moved in the direction of the door, embarrassed by his misstep.
Zelda’s face softened. “I didn’t think that you’d want to come. I thought you’d had enough of it. I was trying to do you a favor,” she spoke gently, so unlike her usual harshness that Link had grown accustomed to, “You are my knight. And if it’s your will to join me, then I won’t stop you. I was not belittling your status, but the journey ahead is long and arduous.”
“I know it is,” Link said, “Honestly, it’ll be tougher on you than anyone else.”
She sighed and straightened up some of the books on her desk that had been used for reference. “Yes, that is true. I’ve planned several places for resting with this in mind. I promise not to slow you down.”
Link hesitated, then asked, “Do you want me to come with you?”
Zelda considered this. She then replied evenly, “I do believe that attempting to take any other knight with me would prove to be a mistake.”
Link nodded. It wasn’t much, but he would take it.
“And-- thank you. This is incredibly important to me.”
They looked at each other for a long moment. Words flooded both of their mouths, but remained unspoken.
The following days were spent in preparation. Much of the land would be inhospitable to horses, therefore much of the trek would take place largely on foot. Zelda was keen to walk as much as possible. “It’s about humility ,” She had explained to Link, “I do believe that hardship is part of this journey.” Link was unbothered by this. He was used to the rough terrain, and he thought that he might honestly miss it a little.
He put his foot down on a few changes to the route, however, including the removal of a planned venture into deep Eldin. “I know you think it won’t be that hot,” he insisted, “But whatever you’re expecting is ten times worse. I’m not doing that again.” Zelda reluctantly agreed, and it was subsequently struck from their map. They would visit Eldin, but stay near the foothills.
The chefs gave them salted meat, the armory offered them a selection of light weaponry just in case, the domestic staff aided them in packing. Letters were sent to the various destinations, alerting them of Link and Zelda’s approximate arrival. Royal advisors frowned at the thought of them going alone, but a firm reminder from Zelda that she was Queen made them quiet once more.
After nearly two weeks, preparations were finished. Link and Zelda walked up the stairs to their bedrooms after supper. Tomorrow morning, they would rise with the sun and begin their trip. Link was nervous to spend so much time alone with her royal moodiness, but he was pleased to reunite with the wilderness. Staying at the Castle was wonderful, but at some point, he had begun feeling like a caged bird. The look in Zelda’s eye made it clear that she felt similarly.
They reached her bedroom first, and she opened the door before turning to look back at Link. She paused, then told him, “This is your last chance. Are you certain you’re ready for tomorrow? It’s not too late to change your mind.”
Link thought of how absurd of an offer that truly was. As though he had not been born to be her right-hand man, as though he would not follow her from coast to coast and back again if that’s what she asked. He was nearly hurt that she would question his loyalty, but instead, he grinned, “You caught me. I planned to parachute out of my window and disappear forever so I don’t have to do this.”
Zelda rolled her eyes, “Goodnight, Link.”
“Goodnight, Zelda,” he told her, and they went their separate ways.