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The days grow shorter and colder as Hyrule approaches the end of the year. Even the halls of the castle are brisk, and Link wears long sleeves and an extra layer under his green tunic. The blue scarf Zelda gave him on their wedding day is loose around his neck. He awakens when it is still dark to walk to the stables and visit Epona.
Despite the hour, the stables are well into their routine by the time he arrives, with stalls being cleaned and straw changed out. The barns are cold, but it feels different than the castle. The horses bring their own warmth, thick winter coats sharply contrasting the frigid air. Epona swings her head over her half door and whickers at him, eager to plunge her muzzle into his hands and search his pockets for a sweet.
Today he’s brought her an apple, which she crunches eagerly, smearing juice in his palm. He wipes his hand dry against his pants and takes a curry comb to her neck and shoulders. The ritual of grooming is one he has always loved, with its regimen of different tools and techniques. He leans into the circular motion of the curry, before switching to a hard brush, using it to flick dirt off her coat. He follows that with a softer brush and a rub rag before turning to care for her feet.
The ground is frozen, and the mare is getting older, so he isn’t planning a ride today. There is pleasure is spending time with her before she gets turned out for the day. He finds the end of the year harder as he gets older, so he fills his cup where he can. The big red horse is always willing.
He slips a headstall over her ears and leads her out to her paddock where a couple other horses already crop what grass is there in the thin sunlight. It’s going to snow today, he thinks. Epona jogs off to her friends when he takes the headstall off. He watches her greet a bay gelding she seems fond of before wrapping his scarf snugly around his neck and heading back.
“Link…uh, Your Grace!”
Link turns at the sound of Jotah’s voice, startled from his reverie. He has known the stable master for what feels like forever.
“You always outrank me here, Jotah.” He smiles warmly as he says it, meaning every word.
“Happy Fire Festival.” Jotah smiles back. “Will I see you in Castletown tonight or are you staying with the missus?”
“I’m staying up with the missus.” He replies, amused. “I’ll listen for you at midnight.”
“I hope you’ll be kissing your lady at midnight. I’ll see you tomorrow then.”
Link fidgets with the fringe on his scarf, taking a deep, slow breath before replying.
“Tomorrow. Happy Fire Festival. May we all get through the longest night together.”
Snow is lightly falling as he heads back to the castle. There’s just enough to crunch under his boots. Link has not thought about his home in a while, but Hateno celebrates The Longest Night tonight. What family he has there will be setting up the bonfire and cooking in preparation for staying up until sunrise, defying the darkness for another year.
Castletown boasts a bonfire too, though it’s at the summer fair grounds outside of the settlement proper. It’s the Fire Festival here, despite there only being one fire, but the sentiment is similar to the one celebrated in Hateno. It’s just louder and rowdier.
Outside of the city, fire is life. It keeps you warm, it cooks your food. It means survival. It’s less important inside the city, but they still celebrate it.
This line of thought feels like a lot before breakfast, and a second cup of coffee. He hastens his step to return to the apartment he shares with Zelda.
—-
Zelda is up when he arrives, seated in their dining nook, wearing a pink gown cinched around her waist, feet stuffed into woolen slippers. She holds a handmade green mug with a wobbly GRAMMA in pink letters in her hand. She raises it in greeting.
“How is your horse today?”
“Fuzzy. Clean. Happy to be grazing.”
“Good. There’s coffee here for you. Eggs and toast are on the way.” She motions to a pot and an oversized yellow mug with the legend PAPA on it. “Come and sit with me.”
He takes a chair across from her, resting his elbows on the table. He fills the mug with coffee, and tops it off with cream. The big mug warms his cold hands, reminding him he is loved.
“Are you ready for tonight?” She is conversational, though he hears the concern in her voice.
“I think so.” He studies the surface of his coffee, as though looking for monsters.
“We can go to Hateno after the holiday, if you want.”
“No.” He shakes his head. “I don’t want to go to Hateno.”
She nods and slips her arm across the space between them, resting gently her hand on his forearm. He takes a hand off his mug and places it over hers.
It has been quite a year.
“Everything will be okay.” He says. “I’ll be okay.”
She gives him a squeeze.
—-
He takes a walk around the quiet castle gardens to sort his thoughts. Impa has taken leave to visit Lurelin, so he is alone with them. Zelda makes him promise to make only one lap of the garden, and not stop at the koi pond, lest his wandering get away from him.
Tonight is the winter solstice. In Hateno, they will celebrate the Longest Night. There is a big bonfire, and everyone gathers for a pot luck dinner and stays up through the night. There will be stories about those who passed on that year. There are songs, and laughter and sometimes tears. Link got his first taste of beer one year, a bitter and hoppy concoction brewed by one of his father’s farmhands.
The fire burns into the next day, with the celebration ending at dusk the following night.
It occurs to him that this year they will tell stories about his father around that bonfire.
Definitely not a year to go back.
The rhythms of the day feel off as staff scrambles to set things just so for the night time celebration. Boughs of pine rest in every available alcove, surrounding brass sconces shaped like the Triforce. The tall white candles set in these will be lit later tonight, casting a soft glow in the halls. They catch Link’s eye as he slowly makes his way back to his rooms.
The way the castle celebrates the Fire Festival is elegant and beautiful. Link remembers the first time he walked the stone corridors with all the candles lit, a string quartet playing off in another room. He had a sense of things beyond himself that night.
When he escaped Hateno as a teenager and came to Castletown, he hadn’t heard of the Fire Festival. Like the Longest Night, the Fire Festival does have a bonfire, and it gets loud, but it is much more a party. There is drinking. A lot of drinking. Link doesn’t remember a lot of his first Fire Festival, but he does remember being sick the following day and the bruise that looked a lot like a bite mark on his neck. And the inside of his thigh.
He took more care with himself the following years.
The light streaming through the stained glass is low, and almost tired. Twilight will fall soon. He picks up his pace. Zelda will be waiting for him.
—-
The royal family treats the Fire Festival with formality and solemnity. As such, Link takes extra care dressing and grooming and even accepts help from the butler assigned to him when he was granted the title of Duke of Necluda. He wears his Hero’s green tunic with his tan trousers and tall boots that have been polished until he can see his reflection. He loops his blue scarf around his neck.
Zelda is also turned out in greens and golds, a departure from her usual pinks and cream. Tiny crystals glitter in her hair, and drip from her ear lobes. The cloth he gifted her their wedding day is tied around her waist. She takes his breath away every single day and tonight is no different.
He offers her his arm. “You are a masterpiece, your majesty.”
She smiles, and his knees threaten to buckle. “Thank you, your grace. I hope that I match your beauty well.”
He kisses her cheek. “Let’s be off then.”
And so they walk, taking their time to get to the sanctum where they will spend the night awake and watching over the kingdom with the rest of the ruling family. Both of Zelda’s sons will be there, and their wives. Link hopes Zizi will be there tonight. He was about her age when he started asking to stay up for the Longest Night. Her parents will likely relent if she asks; Zizi has a way of charming the adults around her.
“It’s funny,” says Link. “How the same thing is celebrated so differently across Hyrule.”
Zelda looks over to him, drumming her fingers on his arm. “What do you mean?”
“The Longest Night,” replies Link. “That’s what we called it in Hateno. Here it’s the Fire Festival, but the idea is the same. An all night party. In Hateno we build a big bonfire and everyone turns out to shout and sing into the night. In Castletown, it’s like a drinking holiday so, uh, everyone gets lit.”
He smiles at his own joke.
“But here in the castle it’s like a mix of both? Lots of candles and fires in every hearth and we all stay up. Not as loud as the Hateno version, but more serious than Castletown.”
Zelda tilts her head a little. “Hyrule is such a big place, with so many kinds of people, it makes sense that we mark our traditions all a little differently, I suppose.”
“The Gerudo shoot off fireworks at midnight. Lurelin is similar to Hateno, but they have a couple special dishes they only make tonight. I wonder what Gorons do.”
“Only Hylians celebrate in Eldin, I think. This is one of those things that confuse Gorons. Though they are happy to join in.” Zelda does one of those sounds she makes when she is thinking through something. “Everyone is ready for the wheel to turn to the next year.”
The sanctum is decked in its finest as well. Fires crackle in every hearth, candles and evergreen decorate mantels, there are tables with food and drink, and a quartet is picking its way through a melody Link knows but can’t name. He spots both of Zelda’s sons and daughters in law among the dozen or so people wandering the room.
“PAPA!” Zizi darts across the room as he crosses the threshold and he drops Zelda’s arm in time to catch and hoist her into the air. Zizi giggles in her dark blue velvet dress, stretching her arms out to him. He settles her against his hip and she hugs him close.
“You staying up all night, Zi?”
“Yes!”
“I’ll kiss you at midnight if you do.”
“Gross!”
He puts her down and she is off again.
“I give her another hour.” Says Zelda, amused.
“I think she’s got two.” Counters Link. “Would you care to dance?”
“Always.” She takes his hand and leads him closer to the quartet.
And so the night goes.
There is a formal dinner, venison and roast fennel and root vegetables. There is wine from Necluda and stout from Tasserensa Brothers. There is music and dancing and there are stories. Zizi barely makes it to dessert and gets carried to her room by her mother.
The quartet picks up the tempo as the wait staff clears the dining table. Link spins Zelda around the dance floor. He likes dancing. The footwork reminds him of sword play. When she needs a break, he gets drawn into a conversation about horses with Marrin and Colin and makes plans with them to go on a short hack the following day.
The hours pass quickly.
At midnight the great bell in the tower above the sanctum rings out over Castletown and central Hyrule, marking the turn to the new cycle. Link kisses Zelda and Zelda kisses Link. There are cheers and people tap their crystal stemware in celebration.
Zelda, her arm around Link’s waist, turns to her family, with a prepared speech she gives every year. Some day she will pass this duty to Marrin.
“They say, that when the first incarnation of the goddess reborn and her chosen hero came to the surface, a place we now call Hyrule, that there were monsters and something called malice, crystallized into pure evil. Today, we light fires to hold back that malice that the children from the sky found on the surface. We light the fires to seal the darkness and hold it at bay, protecting the people for another year, another season. We light the fires to remember those who stood with us last time and now live in the sacred realm.
“Winter may be long and dark and cold, but the solstice reminds us it does not last. Each new day will be a little longer, a little brighter, reminding us that warmer days are coming. Spring is on its way. The road is long, and this is just the first step.
“I hope you all find warmth and light in this long, dark night. Remember that dawn is coming. May your homes be warm and bright and offer refuge from the darkness. May you and your loved ones be safe and healthy. Brighter days are coming. May the goddess smile upon all of you. I love you all.”
There are more cheers and Link rubs a tear out of his eye.
———
The night is not over. Midnight merely marks the top of the summit. The royal family stands watch until dawn. The musicians and castle staff switch out, but they remain.
Link rests his head on his hands, elbows on the table. It is still dark, though if he squints out the eastern windows, where Hateno sits, a continent away, the horizon might be a little lighter. His head is fuzzy after the third stout; it’s been so long since he indulged that much. He feels he might regret that, later. He stares into the candles in their brass fixtures, focused on the flame, letting the sound and activity in the room step back as he loses himself in his memory.
It’s not exactly nostalgia. There’s familiarity and fondness in nostalgia and he isn’t really sure how fond he is of his thoughts. But it’s still his memory and this must mean something to him.
He was eight the first time his parents let him try to stay up through The Longest Night. And he tried. He sang, and he yelled, and he ran with the other kids, and fell asleep next to his older brother before the night was through. He didn’t know who carried him to bed that night.
When he was ten, he made it past midnight, raising his voice in joy and hoisting a torch over his head. Kagun howled next to him, and walked him back to the house an hour later when he asked for his bed.
He was twelve the first time he made it to sunrise. It seemed so odd to be awake to welcome the new day as the old one died.
He was fourteen when Ilia said she’d kiss him at midnight. They snuck off behind the dye shop and as the village raised its collective voice, he met her eyes as she clumsily leaned into him, her mouth on his, warm and welcoming. He’d only learned about kisses that summer. Ilia let his hands wander her body, too. He stayed awake until the weak winter sun lightened the sky again, but what he remembered was her warmth, her thumb drawing slow circles on the inside of his knee and the softness of her curves in his hand.
He wondered how she was doing.
Tonight, he is almost fifty-one. He is married to the wisest woman in Hyrule and she loves him anyway. He has people he thinks of as family, people who care what happens to him. He has that refuge from the darkness and he is here to watch the sun rise again on a new day.
The hands on his shoulder abruptly draw him from his memories. Zelda presses a kiss to his ear and whispers. “Rupee for your thoughts?”
“Just looking back. Getting ready for dawn.” He yawns. “And a nap.”
“Brighter days are coming, Link.” Her fingers slip from his shoulder and turn into an embrace, hands resting over his heart. “I love you.”
“Brighter days.” He leans into her warmth, taking her hands in his and giving them a squeeze. “Love you.”
He greets the new day at her side, ready for the promise of spring.