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Link collapsed onto his bed with a sigh, his limbs spread out as he let his body go limp. He had just experienced one of the worst days of his life, and that was compared to fighting Gannondof, wandering through monster-infested caves, and even being forced into the body of a wolf. Today had marked the one-year anniversary of the end to the Twilight Invasion- and it had been the dedication of a statue to one of his closest friends.
The ceremony was nice and flashy, like everything in Castle Town. The crowd was awed by the large statue of the Twilight Princess, marveling at her beauty for a moment before continuing on with their festivities. The whole thing made Link sick. They didn’t know Midna, and they couldn’t care less about who she was- all they’d been looking for was a chance to celebrate.
He had stayed to be polite, keeping his head down and slipping away the first moment he got, before the crowd of onlookers could pester him. He didn’t deserve or want their praise. He had only been a tool, pushed by the hands of royalty on every side.
With another deep sigh Link brought his hands to his face and rubbed at his eyes. He’d spent most of the day doing nothing, just wandering around or riding Epona, while his thoughts gnawed slowly at his skull. His head ached from the painful memories resurfacing after so long. He pressed his palms over his ears, trying to block out the celebrations in the square outside; the joyful shouts and hum of music. He didn’t feel like celebrating. He didn’t feel a whole much of anything. Link wanted nothing more than to be swallowed by his bed and never have to feel anything ever again.
He kept laying there, motionless; sleep refusing to come and the racket outside refusing to stop. Shouts from outside wrestled with the thoughts racing around his head for dominance, leaving his skull aching and his heart racing as the noises began to fade into one. Then there was the knock at the door, loud and piercing as someone rapped smartly against the wood.
“Telma, please leave me alone,” Link groaned when the knocking persisted, “I’m not going out.”
The knocking stopped and Link felt a brief sense of relief. He loved the friendly barkeeper, but she was rather persistent when it came to his social life- said he needed to ‘experience life’ and ‘use his fame while he was young and handsome’. He was quite content to spend the rest of his days actively avoiding crowds and the gaggles of young ladies that seemed to follow him around Castle Town.
Link assumed Telam had left- finally accepting the fact that the hero was in fact a recluse. Then the door opened. The creak of the hinges was instantly recognizable, but the footsteps were unfamiliar. He knew the sound of the barkeeper’s footsteps, and these certainly didn’t belong to her. Telma had heavier steps, filled with more confidence. These were light, almost unnoticeable.
“I didn’t believe Telma at first when she told me you had already returned to your room.” The voice was light, teasing, and familiar to Link’s ears.
The hero sprung to a sitting position and twisted to see a hooded form standing on the other side of the bed, “Zelda?”
Two pale slender hands rose and gripped the hem of the hood, lowering it to reveal long brown hair and elegant features fit only for royalty. The princess smiled and swept a lock of hair behind her pointed ear. She didn’t say another word as she crossed the room and unclasped the cloak from her shoulders, draping it over an empty chair.
“What are you doing here?” Link blurted out, quite stunned to see her here. Of course, he’d seen her at the ceremony, but the two hadn’t been able to exchange words or even a simple greeting.
“To see you.” She brushed over her simple blouse, her smile sweet.
Link appreciated her straightforward answer, even if it left him reeling. The two had a pleasant enough relationship, though they held a mutual agreement to avoid meeting in public places. As it turned out, the citizens of Hyrule were quite invested in anything that happened between the two, their situation of hero and princess like that of a fairytale. They were friendly with one another and had relied on each other for support in the past, but as Zelda’s duties demanded more of her time and Link left Castle Town- they had drifted apart.
“How are you doing?” she asked kindly, effortlessly leading the conversation as she always did.
“Ah, I’m doing fine. Doc said I’ve nearly made a full recovery,” he rotated his right shoulder for emphasis. After his fight with Ganondorf, he’d been left with quite a few serious injuries, one being the loss of nearly all the mobility in his right shoulder. Zelda had worked alongside the medics to help him recover, so she was acutely aware of all his injuries and their progress.
“I know,” her smile almost looked sad as she watched him carefully, her eyes always leaving him with the feeling that she could see so much more than the surface, “perhaps I should reword my question. How are you doing…with everything that’s happened today?”
Link’s heart dropped to his stomach. She had hit the bullseye. He didn’t respond, fingers grasping nervously at the fabric of his pants. He didn’t want to lie to her, but he wasn’t sure what he could even say. She was probably the only other one who’d even met the Twilight Princess and had mourned her loss with him, but he wasn’t gifted like her when it came to words.
“I’m…not doing very well actually,” he admitted, keeping his head down to avoid her eyes which were probably full of pity, “It’s just been a long day. I don’t want to bother you with this, Princess. You should head back before anyone sees you gone. I’ll be fine after some sleep.”
Link folded his arms across his chest, head still bowed as he hoped to hear the soft retreating steps of the princess. He didn’t want her to see him like this. Sure, she’d already seen him at his lowest, bruised, beaten, and devastated by the loss of his friend- but it was different this time. It had been a whole year, he shouldn’t be like this anymore.
“Hmmm,” Zelda hummed softly, moving across the room towards the window. She pulled back the corner of the curtain, the golden light of twilight spilling in through the crack. “I used to hate twilight,” she murmured, periwinkle eyes painted a murky green in the light, “it always made me think of her, and everything that had happened.” Se let the curtain fall back to its place and turned to him, “but I’ve come to enjoy it now.”
Link frowned in surprise. He understood the sadness that seemed overwhelming as the two realms neared each other but never touched. All that they had lost felt so near like he could touch it, but always out of reach. He could never imagine coming to love that feeling. It would only be a reminder of what could never be.
“It seems strange, doesn’t it?” she asked with a small chuckle, “but it’s the only time I can still feel her.”
Zelda crossed the room again, expression thoughtful and solemn. She took a seat next to him on the bed, hands folded neatly in her lap as she stared at the covered window.
“She’s happy, Link,” she whispered, so softly he barely caught it, “I can feel that she truly is happy.”
Link wanted to feel joy at those words, but the feeling never came. He wanted her to be happy, he truly did, but a part of him wanted to see with his own eyes that she was. He was relieved to know that she could move forward with her life, though her happiness did nothing to help him from the rut he’d dug himself into.
“You should return, Princess,” Link told her again, not sure what else to say.
“And what if I don’t want to?”
The speed of her response caught Link off guard. She hadn’t even skipped a beat before answering. He slid a glance to her, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.
“Ah,” Zelda fidgeted with the ends of her hair though she looked far from embarrassed, “sorry, it’s just-” she pulled her legs up close to her chest, that faraway look back in her eyes as she fingered the hem of her pants, “today was hard for me too. I don’t want you to be alone.” She shook her head slowly, “no, I suppose it is I who does not want to be alone.”
It always took Link by surprise when Zelda opened up to him, even if it was only a split second. Somehow he always found comfort in that. If Zelda, a regal and fearless princess, was scared or hurt, it helped him remind himself that even if they were chosen by the goddesses and had a weight placed on their shoulders they were still only hylain after all.
“I wasn’t ready for today,” she admitted, “I wasn’t ready for the ceremony, because it felt like after all this time-” she screwed her eyes shut against the glisten of tears.
“It makes it feel real,” Link offered, “like you have to admit she’s really never coming back.”
Her smile was still sad, but Zelda nodded.
“Do you think it will ever stop hurting?” He hoped she would have an answer. He needed to know.
“I think so,” she replied, her smile sweeter.
It wasn’t exactly the answer he’d been hoping for, but it did manage to give him hope.
Zelda sighed and crawled over to one of the pillows on the bed, laying down on her back, hair piled around her like a pillow of chocolate. She didn’t say anything more on the matter. Instead, she simply stared up at the ceiling, watching the last gleam of sunlight dance against the paneling.
Link was content with the silence, often finding it more comforting than the presence of voices. But he couldn’t ignore the small whisper in the back of his mind as he joined her, urging him to reach out and show her the tangled mess of thoughts and emotions he had tucked away. If there was one thing Link hated being, it was a burden. But Zelda was wise and maybe just the person to help sort through the webs that clouded his thoughts.
“Erm- Zelda…if you wouldn’t mind-,” Link had to take a steadying breath, painfully aware of the bed shifting under her weight as she rolled to her side, striking eyes focused on him. “I- I actually would like to talk about it. Everything that happened, I mean.”
His voice grew shaky just thinking about it. He hadn’t told anyone much about his adventure, not Zelda or even his family in Ordon. Link knew that the princess had been there with Midna for a short while, but she had told him that her memories were unclear and details distorted. He had tried to convince himself that what he’d done and what had happened were for him to bear, and to bear alone. But after today, the ceremony for Midna and the unpleasant memories plaguing his every thought- he didn’t want to be alone anymore.
“It’s fine to talk slowly,” she assured him softly, a hand reaching out to brush his shoulder.
Link smiled and turned to face her, one hand under his cheek and the other reaching out for hers. Her skin was so smooth against his which was hardened from years of sun and farm work. Her slender fingers were so delicate and dainty as they laced with his.
Link faltered for a moment, not sure where to start or what to say. He eventually decided on the beginning, whispering in hushed tones as he told her of the Bulbins kidnapping his friends and the first time he had ever taken on the form of a wolf. From there the words continued to come. He confessed every doubt he’d had, each terrifying new creature and the stench of their blood on his hands, having to look his closest friend in the eyes and knowing she no longer recognized him, and the constant fear of failure hanging over his head as he raced to bring his friends back to safety while the country depended on him to save them. He told her of every decision he regretted, and every wound he’d suffered after a foolish mistake. It felt freeing to finally share his experiences with another person, to feel her hand against his as she squeezed it reassuringly whenever he found himself choking up.
Link wasn’t sure when the room had gone dark, or when the tears that Zelda was now brushing away had come. The festivities outside were still loud and lively, but it no longer seemed to penetrate the walls of their room in Telmna’s inn.
“I was terrified the entire time,” he admitted, his breath shallow, “terrified of what I might lose and terrified of what I was becoming.”
Link tried to go on, his few words having just scraped the surface of what he had tried to tuck away, but his emotions had taken control. His throat was tight and his tongue refused to work as tears blurred his vision, his breath unsteady. Within seconds Link felt Zelda’s arms around him as she pulled him closer. She didn’t say anything, but her presence was more than enough. Her hand was caught in his hair and the other rubbed reassuring circles on his back, easing the sobs that shook his body. Her collar was already wet from his tears, the young hero clinging to his princess like his life depended on it.
In time the tears subsided, Link burrowing his face near her neck, her warm scent like vanilla and warm blankets. His body shook less now, only the occasional hiccup as Zelda’s hand massaged the base of his neck.
Link was surprised that he felt no embarrassment at being so vulnerable with her, his eyes growing heavy after the tears as his fingers played with the hem of her shirt. His hand found its way under the fabric, his fingers running over the curve of her waist and the large scar that lay there. It wasn’t his first time feeling this particular scar, nor was it his first time experiencing the wave of guilt that came with it. While it was true that Gannondorf had simply been using her body as a puppet, Link had still been the one to give her that scar. It stretched along her abdomen, like a vine that had embedded itself under her skin. She had assured him that she didn’t mind, that it was a reminder of what evil was capable of, and that she was proud to have a scar that matched one of his many.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, nuzzling closer.
“You have no reason to be,” Zelda murmured back, a hand tracing the lines on his neck left from the hot and electrifying magic Gannondorf had used against them both.
Link smiled and pulled his head back. For once he believed her. He could only see her faintly in the pale light, eyes bright and hair much more tangled than when she had walked in, but she looked as stunning as always. He could still see the pain in her eyes and feel the own turmoil left in his heart, but he truly did believe that they were finally on a path of healing. She had been beside him through the pain and he was confident she would be there with him through the recovery.
“What are the chances no one finds out you spent the night here?” Link teased, trying to ease the weight of the mood.
His plan worked as Zelda smiled, her leg wrapping around his waist and pulling him closer, “Seeing as we’re always the talk of the town- I’d say very slim. But I don’t think I mind those rumors anymore.”
Link grinned and buried his face into her neck again, her body so warm against his, “I don’t mind them at all,” he murmured before he gratefully welcomed sleep. The noises didn’t bother him as much anymore now that his head was burrowed against the rhythmic rise and fall of the princess’s chest. His thoughts were still tangled and his heart still ached, but the pain had subsided for the first time in months. For once no nightmare came to plague the hero as he fell asleep tucked away in a safe and healing embrace.