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She’d seen him do it before, when she was watching over him. It’d shocked her into allowing an early blood moon, her grip on the beast stuttering as she stared, eyes wide in horror at Link standing completely still.
Waiting.
The bokoblin on the platform above him took the shot and it grazed his shoulder, a deep gash opening up before he took action and struck the bokoblin down, collecting the spoils and going on his way.
Why had he let the creature hit him? On purpose? How could he have known it wouldn’t hit him between his eyes?
How many times had he done this without her knowing?
It shook her. She’d barely had time to choke out a warning of the rising danger before she lost him to a warp.
She remembered catching him again, it could have been months or immediately after, she wasn’t sure, standing at the top of a cliff. She tried to reach out with the wind when he stepped off and she yelped into the void she was inhabiting.
He deployed his glider after far too long and floated lazily towards the moblin camp below him, she watched as he hung back towards a wayward one. He yelled at it, it noticed him and flung a rock at his paraglider, knocking him out of the air. He fell heavily onto the ground, rolling and taking his time to stand before he shook himself off and took care of the camp easily.
She couldn’t see his face but she could imagine what it looked like when he let himself lay in the mud for a second longer than he should have considering where he was.
He was allowing the monsters to hurt him. He was asking them too.
Why?
Rain dripped off her hood as she watched him, just missing her nose, she wiped the rim of the fabric to relieve some of the weight and took a hesitant step towards him.
He’d just done it again, but this time she’d seen it. In person. His face glazed over as he stared at the lizalfo aim for his head, she’d called out right before the shot and he’d spun around and looked at her, eyes wild. There was something else there that she wasn’t sure of, regret? Guilt? It’d caused her to gasp and stumble back.
The arrow grazed his cheek.
He hadn’t reacted, then. Just stared at her for a second longer with those big, endless eyes before stealing his expression and turning to get rid of the oversized chameleon.
He’d frozen once it was gone. Body rigid, and so still she wasn’t sure he was breathing. She stepped on a twig on her way over to him, altering him that she was moving. He didn’t turn to her but she saw his ear twitch, she reached out slowly towards his arm, scared he may take off into a sprint if she moved any faster.
“Link,” she murmured, her cold fingers making contact with his soaked sleeve. She felt the muscles of his arm shift at her touch but he remained still.
She moved around him to catch his eye, he was glaring at the ground in front of him.
“Li—,” his eyes snapping to hers cut her off, she sucked in a breath, gripping his sleeve as a shadow flicked over his features before he smoothed it back into a look of impassivity. The cut on his cheek was shallow, barely a drip coming from the wound, the rain washed it away before she thought to.
“Let’s get you back to camp,” he said quietly, turning them around and guiding her away from the small clearing, she was too shocked to do anything but stumble after him.
He didn’t say anything as he walked her back to their camp, her bedroll safe from the rain under the cover of a small cave. He didn’t say anything as he led her to her blankets before turning and sitting in front the dwindling fire he’d lit for them where the rain couldn’t touch under the stone. He didn’t say anything because there was no way to walk back what she’d seen him do.
She watched the back of his head as she slowly lowered herself to her bedding, laying her cape flat on the ground to dry as she went. The air was thick between them and she found she had to remind herself to breathe.
He hadn’t expected her to see him like that.
She wasn’t supposed to see him like that.
But she had.
And now she’d seen it in person, and it was so much worse.
“Why did you do that?” She blurted, her voice was small and she cleared her throat as she noticed tears were rolling down her cheeks.
She let them fall.
His shoulders went up to his ears and she waited.
She felt herself begin to tremble and clutched at the fabric of her blanket to attempt to calm herself. She wasn’t sure how long it was before his shoulders slowly went back down and he hung his head.
“I don’t know…”
She almost didn’t catch it. She could have tricked herself that it was distant thunder if he hadn’t changed his posture.
“What?” Her voice cracked and he turned to look at her, his eyes were so dark and his body twitched in her direction as he took in her tears. His mouth opened and closed a few times, trying to find the right words to tell her. Trying to make this go away, maybe if she slept she’d forget and they would be back to normal in the morning.
She didn’t want the right words, she wanted the truth, and she wasn’t going to go away or pretend it hadn’t happened.
She pushed herself up and strode over to him, never breaking her gaze as Link began to shrink into himself under her scrutiny. She got as close to him as she could before shoving herself into the dirt beside him. She folded her legs in front of her, her left knee resting heavily on his right thigh as she tore her eyes away and looked out into the rain before them.
The warmth of the fire felt like a hot wall against her back as the wind misted the rain onto her already wet cheeks, stinging her from the salt that had dried there.
She waited.
She could feel him eyeing her before she saw his face turn in her periphery.
Trying to hold herself to a higher authority than she currently had, she sniffed quietly, keeping her chin up as a new rush of tears threatened to push their way past her eyes. She felt his shoulders slump a bit against her before he sighed.
“I really don’t know,” he whispered, reaching out to pinch the seam at her knee, rubbing the fabric between his thumb and finger.
“What were you even doing?” She managed out, he winced as if she’d struck him.
“I…” his voice trailing off snapped something in her and she turned, glaring at his now startled expression.
“You could have been killed!” She yelled, wiping angrily at her cheeks, he stammered, reaching out to clutch at her arms, she tried to pull herself from his grip. “You just stood there! You knew it was there I saw you! ”
Her voice was frantic and she knew she looked hysteric, but she didn’t care because that’s what she was. His fingers tightened around her arms as she tried to wiggle her way away from him.
“Zelda, I—”
“Don’t!” She yelled, pushing her fists into his chest. “Is that what you want?” She couldn’t see him, she was blinded with the memory of him standing and watching as an arrow was aimed to kill. “To just stand there and die? Just like that?” He flinched. “What would you expect me to do?! Not mind?!”
Her shriek bounced off the shallow wall of the cave and smacked her across the face and she froze, staring at him again as he tensed and his gaze went unfocused.
She sunk down from where she’d pushed herself onto her knees to face him, she could feel the rain on her back. She sat on her rear in front of him anyway, unable to hold herself up any longer as his grip on her slackened.
“I…” his eyes zoomed back in on her.
She almost thought she could feel his look like a touch, clutching her tighter than his hands ever could. She held her breath as he slowly reached to cup her face, his thumb wiping away a new tear.
She waited.
“I could never leave you again,” he huffed out a rueful laugh. “Selfish,” he muttered.
His eyes snapped up, darting between hers, bright and fierce before they darkened again and drifted away from her.
“I just…”
He was struggling, she could be patient again. She waited one hundred years for him, she would wait ten centuries more if she needed to.
She held her tongue, watching him close his eyes and let out a long, stuttering breath before he pulled her into his lap. She allowed him, adjusting herself to sit sideways in the hole his crossed legs made, he supported her back with his arm as he guided her head to rest against his collar before he wrapped around her.
She allowed herself to sigh and settle into the embrace when he did, gripping at the belt that held his scabbard.
“I don’t know how to explain it,” his quiet voice ghosted past her ear and she closed her eyes to suppress a shiver. “I don’t want to die , but I…”
Her grip tightened on the leather strap in front of her.
“I don’t know,” he muttered, folding into her.
She wasn’t sure what to do with that information. It was far too much and not nearly enough for her to process. So she waited, sinking further into him and wrapping her arm to hold the belt from behind. She pressed her nose into his neck, feeling the warmth of his skin on her lips, his soft pulse greeted her, she pushed in further to feel it better.
“I feel like I’m supposed to be dead sometimes,” his quiet murmur vibrated against her lips, and she focused back in. “It creeps up, I guess, and I—I…”
His voice caught and his head dropped to her shoulder, she felt him begin to tremble above her. She held him closer, she could say something, there were plenty of sarcastic remarks she could tell him in an attempt to snap him out of it but… she didn’t want to.
This situation felt like someone was slowly driving into her with a rusty blade, but nothing she thought to say felt correct enough to stop the impalement.
She shifted to pull away so she could look at him, but his arms stayed locked so she sighed and leaned in further.
“Come to bed with me?” She murmured into his neck after a time, his shoulders shaking less, she hadn’t meant it to come out as a question but she didn’t have the energy to fix it. He sniffed and let out a shaky breath before she felt his head move against hers in a tiny motion.
A nod, just enough.
She slowly unraveled herself from his grip, doing her best to mimic calm water in an attempt to quell her own shaking as she stood and his arms slid away from her, falling helplessly at his sides. He made a scorned noise and shoved his face into his hands as she moved to get his bedroll from their pack, scolding himself for being weak no doubt.
It almost made her angry.
She kept an eye on him in her periphery as she set up his bedding next to hers, blending their blankets together into a makeshift bed that could fit them both. He stayed still aside from when he would sniffle, and when their bed was good enough she walked back over to him, reaching down to pet his hair as she squatted before him. He hiccupped and wilted at her touch, pushing his forehead into her shoulder, she held his head and caught herself against his knee when he pushed her off balance.
She waited, staring hard and unseeing at the rock wall behind him. He composed himself enough to stand, giving her thighs a squeeze to signal to her that he was ready to move from his spot. She kept her hand on his arm as they went, guiding him towards where they had stored their items on uneasy feet. She undid the clasp of his cape as his hands moved to rid himself of his many belts and bracers, and turned to lay it flat next to hers. She was already dressed down for the evening when she went out into the rain, looking to relieve herself before stumbling upon Link, so she shed her boots and nestled herself into the bed.
She watched him as he removed his tunic, leaving his soft undershirt before he pulled a medium sized scrap of fabric out of his bag; she recognized it as the recycled towel she’d used a couple of days ago to wash her face. He brought it with him when he trudged over to her, dropping it near her head and pulling off his boots in one motion.
“For our noses,” he said quietly, his clogged voice emphasized his point better than anything else could have.
She heard herself chuckle as she opened the blanket for him, the sound shoved past her lips and she closed her eyes to savor the morsel of grace he’d offered to her. She tucked the blanket over him when he laid down next to her on his side, enough of a gap between them to not touch in their small, makeshift bed. She could feel his eyes roving over her face, she knew exactly the trail they were taking, feeling the skin on her cheek twitch as his gaze carved past on its way to her brow.
She watched her hand pat down onto his shoulder, sliding down his arm to lace her fingers with his, his thumb brushed over her knuckles a little too quick and stuttered to be entirely comforting. His attention was too heavy sometimes, she always understood why he was considered intimidating despite his size, even back then.
But his time in the wild had made his icy blues even sharper, like a hawk scanning for field mice, she was still getting used to it.
She thought she’d recomposed herself quite well, but when her eyes met his again and he brought their joined hands to his lips to kiss her fingers she broke. The sob wracked through her, hunching her shoulders up as her body attempted to curl into a ball, she instead curled into him and he was ready to catch her.
He pulled her into him, shoving his knee through hers to try and touch her with as much of him as possible, he pushed his arm under the curve of her waist, wrapping fully around her.
“I’m sorry,” he murmured into her hair. “I’m so sorry.”
I feel like I should be dead sometimes, rang in her head like a forgotten tea kettle, insistent.
He repeated himself over and over, whispering his guilt like a mantra in a rough, broken voice. She had a feeling he was apologizing for more than just what she’d seen.
She wanted him to stop, apologizing wasn’t right, but she couldn’t muster the strength to use her voice so she clung to him, fisting his shirt so tight she may have ripped the fabric if her nails were longer.
Eventually he fell quiet, his breath uneven, his hand remained heavy on her back as he rubbed up and down the length of her spine.
“Don’t do it again,” she muttered when her lungs were functioning enough again for her to speak. His hand faltered and he tensed, she waited.
“...I’ll try,” was his croaked reply, which was not sufficient.
“No,” she said, pushing away from him, his eyes were glassy as he tried to look back at her. When he blinked his tears slid across the bridge of his nose. “Never again.”
His mouth opened, but all that came out was a small squeak and he screwed his eyes shut.
She pulled him into her chest, wrapping around his shoulders as he clung to her like he would fall into a pit if he let go.
He might, they both might.
The fire flinched like a startled cat when it got dripped on, leaping up to bite the rock ceiling above it, she watched it fight back against the predator around it, stubborn.
“If you’re supposed to be dead then so am I,” the words streamed out of her before she knew she thought them.
He gasped, frozen, she felt goosebumps erupt on her neck when his eyelashes flew up. His eyes were wide open, she knew, they both stared unblinking at the space in front of them.
It was true, wasn’t it? They were both ghosts haunting the land they’d wronged, her century spent holding the calamity at bay would never be enough for her country to forgive her.
But
They didn’t know what she knew, what she knew Link understood somewhere deep inside him.
This had been a possibility, a possibility with almost one hundred percent certainty, and Hyrule was prepared for it whether the people knew it or not.
They’d been doomed to fail from the start, Hylia was twisted, but benevolent in Her own way. She wanted them to have their time now, a small peace offering for the torment She’d put them through.
Zelda almost thought She wanted a redo, a clean slate. That this one had gotten away from Her and She was apologizing.
Or perhaps Zelda was simply gifted too much free will by accident, the thought nipped at her sometimes, that she'd been the reason for all of this despite the physical evidence pointing to otherwise.
She blinked.
“I think,” she said carefully, still not sure what point she was about to try and make. His shoulders loosened as she removed his hair tie to filter her fingers through the strands. “I understand.”
She didn’t need to spell it out for him, she wasn’t sure she could even get any direct words of acknowledgment out anyway. He took in a small breath against her neck.
“I also think,” she said, pulling away from him, his eyes seemed to take up half of his face when he looked at her. “That we’ve been given this time together, this freedom. It’s what we wanted… before. We would be foolish to waste it.”
She was shaking and her voice was a broken whisper, a squeaky wheel with no oil in sight, but he watched her like she was commanding an army. Like she was glowing again, maybe he could see things she couldn’t with those wild eyes of his.
His hand was slowly tightening against her, pulling her light shirt into his balling fist. His eyes were scanning her face again, she waited, holding her own and watching him steal some of her features for himself, slipping them into his pocket, she knew. His eyes slid closed, his face told her that he understood, he always did, and he began to tremble again under her fingers.
“I’m selfish too,” she breathed, voice wavering. He choked on a laugh, hiccupping, and pushed his face back into her neck. He muttered something, an apology probably, she didn’t hear it. His lips pressed there, pushing small promises into her skin, attempting to soothe the both of them the only way he was capable of at that moment.
He cried himself to sleep quietly, reaching for the scrap fabric once to briefly try and relieve some pressure before returning to her waiting arms. She held him, watching the fire over his shoulder as it calmed itself, as tired as the boy she was holding.
She knew that this wasn’t going to fix anything, they hadn’t even talked about it, not really. It was too painful, too big for either of them to parse properly.
They would in time, when they were ready.
She would wait.