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Summary
The sky begins to darken into a cornflower blue that would cost no less than an arm and leg at the Kochi Dye Shop, throwing cream colored snow into stark relief. His Princess turned Priestess steps out of Link’s arms just as the first few hints of lavender begin to bleed up from the horizon, he aches with the distance immediately.
“I suppose,” Zelda’s voice is impossibly soft, thin in a way he’s come to know means she’s close to tears, “it’s time for me to begin.”
The Crown Princess of Hyrule inhales slowly through her nose when her feet first touch sacred water. Bare fingers twitch almost imperceptibly against his palm before pulling away, and Link watches with his heart in his mouth as Zelda smoothly steps down into the spring.