Chapter Text
It was going to rain.
The clouds were gathering up, thicker spools of grey wool convalesced together, covering up the pristine blue.
It always seemed to rain whenever it was most inconvenient. He hadn’t wanted to come this way, with a shivering Princess barely able to walk after battling the manifestation of evil itself for a century.
But she wanted to go to his house.
His house that wasn’t even a home.
Well. Technically it was, it was under his name, sure, but he rarely went into it. He’d paid Bolson to complete the building, add in the doors, fix up the sign, seed the garden so it would sprout with new life… But he, personally, hadn’t exactly added much to the house.
He only stopped by to drop off any lynel weapons he happened to obtain, not really wanting to stay to see the Champion’s weapons. Or… the photo that lined his wall.
So it was a house he had. A place to stay when the fatigue was too heavy. A safe place to store his weapons and shards of memories that weren’t exactly his. Not… not a home. Not a place he went to for warmth. Not a place he went to for comfort. Not a place that truly felt his, not like a home should anyway.
Plus, he hasn’t even cleaned the house for weeks! He had assumed she would be keen to go to Kakariko. But that pleading look in her eyes, for her wanting to just have a break, a small two-day rest, before picking up the mantle again… how could he deny her?
He couldn’t deny her anything.
But what she truly wanted was not his to give.
The memories she had left were of a time long past, a person who no longer existed, and he was certain she had changed too. No one lived 100 years without changing.
And yet, when she asked him if he remembered her, the words swallowed in and on themselves. He didn’t know how to explain, in the fatigue that seeped into him after that fight, as the adrenaline suddenly wore off, stocks depleted, that he remembered only the moments she’d left behind.
But it didn’t matter what he remembered, because the new him wanted to learn the new her. And that it didn’t matter how much he knew, or didn’t know, because ultimately it wouldn’t change a thing. He’d still follow her to the end of the world and back.
But he hadn’t said any of that. All he’d done was collapse in her hold, and hug her as tightly as he could, and try to convey all of that through how strongly he held onto her.
And then they had left, the castle a mess of broken grey behind them. And he had reached for her hand because he didn’t want her to fall. Yes, that is why he had done that.
Now, here they were, 100 years later, he was walking, with the princess in tow, her hand in his. Zelda hadn’t wanted to ride Epona, saying she was likely fatigued after the fight and it wouldn’t do to force the horse to carry her. He noticed how she stared in shock at the mare, how she seemed skittish around her. But… he dismissed it as another fragmented memory from a time past.
She’d walked across to his side, slipped off her sandals and declared she wanted to feel the earth beneath her feet. He’d done the same. He realised the last time he had been without footwear was when he had first awakened in the shrine.
He had initially hoped to at least get to some form of shelter before the rain, some place where they could just stop and rest, before continuing the trek to Hateno, but he had no such luck.
Plop.
On his forehead.
And then his lashes. And his nose.
Oh.
Oh no.
They were too late.
He couldn’t risk her getting wet and then sick. She was trembling enough as it was already.
He scurried to open his pouch, pulled out the hood, and turned to face her.
Green eyes brighter as the grass they were walking on stared at him. She was uncertain. No doubt his answer, or lack of, hadn’t helped matters.
He shuffled closer, tugged on her hand a little, as he moved to hand her the hood.
She stared at it, briefly, before looking back at him. “What about you?”
He shrugged.
She didn’t like that, because she pulled away, and ripped the bottom of the hood open so now it was a larger flap of material. She reached over his head, looped the end across, and then guided his hand to hold the loose edge, whilst she did the same.
His head touched hers. They were practically the same height and now he was breathing the same air that she was.
“We can share.”
He didn’t mention it was going to be hard to walk like this. And they would be even slower than they already were.
Her hand came to hold his again, and he squeezed back. “Okay.”
Perhaps… soon, he’d be able to share what he’d felt when she asked him that question.
Perhaps, he’d be able to share his house with her and it would feel more like a home, her warmth and comfort would bring light into the otherwise empty quietness.
Perhaps, he’d finally have someone to share his life with, no longer alone in the vast lands of Hyrule, but together with the one who he was destined with.
Yes.
Yes, they could share.