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Link stares at Zelda’s hands as she gives the stable owner rupees to pay for their beds. She’s lowered her hood, and her hair is dry; She’s dry, like they weren’t just caught up in a storm of her own making.
He doesn’t think she knows she caused it, that the intensity of her power-her fear? her rage?-changed the fucking weather, but the only reason Link knows it was her is because he felt the magic drilling into his bones. It was the same sensation he experienced when she appeared on Hyrule Field, radiant and divine, to seal the Calamity.
“I got us these two,” she tells him, sitting on the edge of the nearest bed and pointing to the one on the left. “Figured they were the closest.”
Link nods, sitting on the empty bed and claiming it as his, leaning the Master Sword against the wall. “Are you-”
“I was thinking,” she cuts him off. “What you said about Sidon, in the throne room? That was good. That was perfect. If I wasn’t there, Dorephan would’ve been convinced.”
He frowns. Why is she talking about this now? “You don’t know that.”
“I do, Link. They all like you. They know you.”
“They just need to get over themselves,” he murmurs. “Once they know you-”
“The reason I failed was because I tried to negotiate like my father,” she reaches across and grabs his hand. “When we reach Goron City in the morning-”
“Goron City?” he looks at her, now. “You want to go straight there?”
“Why wouldn’t I? We’re already halfway, aren’t we?”
“Yeah, but-” he stops himself. “Yeah.”
“Link,” she moves and sits next to him on his bed, staring at him. “What’s bothering you?”
“How can you ask that?” he glares at her, whispering so no one can eavesdrop. “You lost control of yourself and almost fried those people for no reason, not to mention the appearance of the phantom Calamity, which I don’t even know what that means-”
“I don’t, either-”
“So how can you expect me to just being okay with us moving on to Goron City when we don’t even know what happened in Zora’s Domain?”
“What else would you have us do? Sit here and waste time theorizing when there’s work to be done-”
“You don’t even want to do this work, Zelda,” he squeezes her hand. “No one is expecting you to do anything but you.”
“Impa is,” she argues. “My father-”
“Impa is old-fashioned and your father is dead.”
Zelda flinches, taking her hand out of his and staring at the floor. “You don’t have to remind me.”
“Zelda.” Damn it. Damn it. “Zelda, you know I-”
“If you don’t want to do this with me, Link, you don’t have to. I told you, you’re not my knight. You have no obligation to follow me everywhere-”
“And I told you I want to follow you. Just because I’m concerned about you and how fast we’re going doesn’t mean I don’t want to be here.”
“What are you concerned about?”
He stares at her, dumbfounded. “Your power going crazy? The hallucination of the Calamity or whatever the hell it is? The fact that you want to rebuild Hyrule out of some obligation to a ghost-”
“The ghost of my father, the King of-”
“You mean the guy who never gave a shit about you unless you weren’t kneeling before a statue? The loving father who banned you from Guardian research because you tried everything you could to unlock your power and it still wasn’t enough for him?”
“He’s the man who gave you that paraglider and helped you off the Great Plateau when you knew nothing but the sound of my voice,” she fires back. “Who was guilty for the way he treated me while he was alive-”
“So why do you think he would want you to take his throne?”
That silences her.
“Look,” Link sighs, feeling his heartbeat slow as he calms down. “You saved the world, Zelda, and paid an impossible price to do it. You deserve to do whatever you want with your life now that you’re free, and I just want you to be doing something that makes you happy. If you still want to travel and visit the different races and rebuild, fine, but I want you to be sure we’re doing this because you want to, not because you think it’s what you have to do. You don’t have to be the princess anymore, just like I don’t have to be the Hero. That part of our lives is done.”
Zelda swallows, retakes his hand, and whispers, “What if I don’t know what I want to do?”
He smiles. “We have all the time in the world to figure it out.”
“I…” she lets out a breath, playing with his hand, running her fingers over the scarred skin of his palm. “I still want to visit the different races and gauge their feelings on rebuilding and me taking the throne. Let them know it’s a possibility, at least.”
“All right,” Link nods. “Do you still want to go right to Goron City tomorrow?”
She nods, too. “If Ruta was having issues, I’m sure Rudania is, too. Medoh and Naboris as well.”
They sit, quiet, as Zelda continues to trace the edges of his scars.
“Are they still with you?” she asks after a few minutes. “The Champions?”
He closes his eyes and reaches for them. He thinks of Daruk’s strong body protecting him from danger, of Mipha’s smile healing his wounds, of the flap of Revali’s wings lifting him into the sky and of Urbosa’s mighty yell covering the world in lightning.
He reaches for them and they answer, stirring in his gut as Daruk’s Protection flickers around his body and Mipha’s voice faintly rings in his ears. Wind ruffles his hair and thunder rumbles in the clear night sky, making the travelers around the stable startle and whisper.
“Yes,” he lets the sensation fade as they go dormant once more. “They’re still here, though I have no idea why. I haven’t needed them since Blatchery Plain.”
“Unfinished business,” Zelda surmises. “I wonder what it is.”
(Maybe it’s her.)
Later in the night, when the torchlight is low and everyone in the stable is asleep, Link is still sitting up in his bed, wide awake and braiding Zelda’s hair.
She’s sleeping with her head in his lap and the Sheikah Slate held close to her chest, having dozed off organizing compendium entries and writing down notes about the Divine Beasts. She was supposed to move to her bed when she was done, but Link knows she would find a way to never be done, and also knows stroking her hair is the one thing that can put her to sleep without fail.
(Sue him. She was up all of last night at Vah Ruta with Sidon, then had an episode with her power. If he has to abuse his knowledge of her to get her to rest then so be it.)
“Master Sword?” he murmurs, unbraiding Zelda’s hair with deft fingers and starting again.
The sword hums against the wall, sounding amused when it answers, Yes, Master?
“Do I need to be worried about her power?”
It takes a moment to think. Yes, Master. Though I can’t say how much.
“Why?”
There is a 50% chance it is just the Triforce of Wisdom fading. Dying creatures tend to thrash.
His lips twitch. “And the other fifty percent?”
Another pause, then, I…don’t know.
It sounds surprised.
He turns his head and looks at it, frowning. “I thought you knew the future.”
I predict things that may happen in the future using my knowledge of the past and the present. It is not unusual for Hylia’s golden power to fade from a Zelda because its purpose has been fulfilled, but it is unusual for a Zelda to hallucinate Ganondorf.
“Ganondorf?”
Calamity Ganon’s Gerudo form. It is what Zelda described.
Zelda mutters in her sleep, her nose scrunching as her eyes move beneath closed lids, and Link sets back to braiding her hair until her expression smooths out and she sighs.
“Master Sword?” Link repeats, focused on looping the ends of her hair.
Yes, Master?
“Do I just…call you that? Whenever I want to talk to you? Or do you have a name?”
Again, the Master Sword is quiet. It doesn’t hum, or buzz, or even make any kind of noise. It just…sits there.
(Maybe he offended it?)
“Never mind,” he continues after a minute. “I was thinking since-”
Fi, It finally whispers, the name echoing in his head and landing deep in his brain. The sound of it sends a shudder down his spine, his entire soul swelling with something like affection, like longing, like reuniting with an old friend he thought he’d never see again. The back of his sword hand tingles. My name is Fi.