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Something is wrong. Zelda has been here before.
The mechanical whirring of Guardians has stopped, but the grass is still on fire, and smoke is still in the air. Ice-cold rain drips down her face, and she realizes she's standing at Blatchery Plain.
It's a nightmare, but it's also a memory.
Zelda realizes this isn't real.
After spending a century stuck in stasis with Calamity Ganon, she has become good at recognizing reality from dreams. Ganon tried to feed her false memories and images to get her to surrender, but it never worked.
She was strong enough to hold on for over a century, so why can't she snap out of a dream now?
Slowly, Zelda turns around to see where Link has fallen on the ground. She tries to rush over to him, but her limbs feel stiff. Zelda runs in slow motion.
She doesn't have a voice in this dream, and not a single sound leaves her mouth even though she desperately wishes to call out to Link.
Eventually, Zelda gathers him into her arms, like she did on that day so long ago.
"You did it, Zelda," Link whispers, barely audible. His hand shakily comes up to hold her face. "I always knew you could."
A shallow cut under his eye oozes blood, and it drips down his face mixed with the rainwater.
Dark red wells up underneath his tunic from an injury he received earlier in the night, reopened from running as they tried to flee the Guardians.
There is so much blood, and it's on her hands.
Zelda shakes her head. This can't be happening. No, she refuses to believe this is happening.
It's a nightmare, but her mind thinks that only a few hours before she lost all her friends, she saw the Divine Beasts fall one by one, and now she's losing him.
Her power came too late. What use is awakening her power if she's already failed everyone? What use is it if she's still failing to save him?
Link takes one last look up at her. Even when she protested his appointment as her knight, even when she had been too proud to admit it, his eyes had always been her weakness. They were like the sparkling ocean in Lurelin. They were the blue sky above Hyrule on sunny days, perfect for outdoor research. They were the blue that graced the petals of the Silent Princess flower. They were, unfortunately, her favorite color.
Now, they are cloudy and dull like the sky above.
This can't be happening.
Link's eyes close, the blue gone for good, and his body suddenly drops, limp in her arms.
Zelda lays her forehead on his chest, one hand clutching at his tunic, the other holding up his head.
She knows this is a nightmare, but it's so hard to relive this moment.
She once lamented about being tasked with creating the Champion's Tunic for Link, but she never could have guessed she'd be holding this fabric in her hands again so soon and in such a tragic situation.
Link's breathing slows.
Zelda doesn't even bother searching. She knows she won't find a heartbeat.
Suddenly, her breath hitches, and she wakes up disoriented.
Instead of hearing the Master Sword reply to her cries that Link can still be saved, she hears the muffled songs of birds chirping outside. Slowly, she rubs her eyes, feeling bleary as it takes some time for her brain to fully wake up.
Her eyes eventually adjust to the darkness of the room and the subtle light from dawn now filtering in through the window in the loft.
Zelda isn't on Blatchery Plain or anywhere else that her dreadful dreams and memories might have dragged her through during the night.
She is at home, in bed with Link.
A chill catches her as the cool summer morning air drifts into the house, a welcome reprieve from the hot days they've recently had in Hateno.
She sits up and retrieves the blanket they've tossed off in the middle of the night and readjusts herself, trying her best not to wake Link.
Usually, he wakes at the smallest of disturbances. Life as a knight and a traveler through the wild continuously kept him on edge, ready to jump into action within a fraction of a second. That has started to change in the last few years. Recently, Zelda has found it endearing that he tends to fall deeper into sleep safely at home with her in his arms. She knows he needs it, after all. At the pace he rescued her from Ganon, she doubts he slept much after waking up in the Shrine of Resurrection.
It's these little things that remind her everything is alright now. They've come so far from being scared teenagers, terrified of failure, uncertain of not only their future but the future of the world. Just like Hyrule is now in its rebuilding phase, Link and Zelda are beginning to heal.
She returns her head to Link's chest as he sleeps soundly. She's a little surprised he slept through her shifting around. She can't quite get comfortable and fall back asleep.
Zelda can hear his heartbeat strong and steady in his chest, sending blood throughout his body, carrying oxygen to every cell, keeping him alive.
She's so thankful that night with the Guardians over 100 years ago wasn't the end, but knowing she's safe in bed doesn't keep the memories of not hearing his heartbeat away.
Zelda thinks back on all the other memories she left Link to find.
More comes back to him all the time now, but sometimes, she still feels a little jealous of his ability to get a fresh start. She's still stuck with the things she wishes to forget. She's still haunted by the memories of being trapped in the castle with Ganon. But she knows how hard it is for Link. He still can't fully remember his life before. Not too long ago, he told Zelda the sparse memories of his family when he suddenly got stuck on details she knew must have been on the tip of his tongue. He couldn't remember his father's favorite meal to make for dinner or his little sister's favorite flowers to pick in the forest. Zelda could see the pain in his eyes at that, even though he tried to hide it behind a stoic demeanor.
Grief still hits them both on the sunniest days, in the weirdest places, out of nowhere sometimes, but they have each other. Zelda knows it hasn't been as hard as it could be.
She's started finding peace and hope in this new Hyrule, but it's hard not to be filled with regrets.
Zelda wishes she could have found her power sooner. She wishes so many people didn't have to face a gruesome demise, among them her father and her closest friends.
Years later, she still wakes up with nightmares burned behind her eyelids, but they're not just dreams. They are memories. There are days when she still can't believe it's finally over. They won.
Things wouldn't have been the same if they had won when Calamity Ganon initially broke free a century ago.
Zelda wouldn't have been able to retire with Link in a little farming town, his hometown. She wouldn't be dreaming up plans to create a schoolhouse for the children in Hateno to help give them the stability that's been absent over the last century. Zelda wouldn't be with someone who fiercely loves her despite all her various quirks and faults. She wouldn't be sitting at their dining room table at each meal eating the food Link carefully crafted with love. She wouldn't have time to figure things out on her own and decide when or if she'd take up the crown again.
She can't change the past anyway, but sometimes she feels guilty about this new life and the happiness it brings her.
Zelda traces random shapes on Link's bare chest, connecting freckles like constellations in the sky. The previous summer evening felt too warm and humid to wear anything but thin sleep clothes, or in Link's case, he decided to go shirtless. Not that she's complaining, Zelda thinks with a smile. Her fingers now trace scars across his chest, some old and faded that she knows the stories behind, some raised and new from his time in the wild, that he's yet to tell her about.
A whispered question startles her out of her thoughts.
"Are you ok?" Link asks, his soft voice rough with sleep, stretching and adjusting his limbs as he wakes up. He has probably been half awake for longer than Zelda realized. He always seemed to have a sixth sense when something was bothering her.
"It was just a nightmare," Zelda says quietly. She doesn't want to worry him. "I keep thinking about it."
Link hums softly and maybe a little sadly. Zelda hasn't had a nightmare in so long, unlike the first few nights in Hateno when she would scream herself awake and hyperventilate herself into a panic attack.
He rubs her back in small, soothing circles.
"You're thinking so loud I can hear it," he replies, his eyes not fully open, sleep still beckoning his name. "Go back to bed. I'll still be here," he whispers. "I'll keep you safe."
"I'll try," Zelda says with a gentle smile at his protectiveness, wondering if that sixth sense he has could tell she was thinking about the time she almost lost him for good. Link wraps his arms around her. His hand stroking her hair, smoothing sections that have become mussed with sleep, and she nuzzles her face more firmly against him, her ear pressed against his heartbeat. His hand finally rests on her face, thumb gently stroking her cheekbone.
She's safe in his arms. She's never felt more at home anywhere else.
Later, they'll need to get up. They've fallen into a steady routine in the years following Calamity Ganon's long overdue defeat. Link will make breakfast. Today, it might be crepes topped with the fresh honey he gathered recently or vegetable omelets to use up the extra ingredients that didn't make it into last night's stir-fry dinner.
They'll have a slow start to their morning with tea and peaceful conversations before needing to dash off into town. Link stays by her side most of the time, but sometimes, he will head out separately to assist the people of Hateno or play games with the children. Wherever Link ends up for the day, she knows he won't be too far away if she needs him.
Zelda remembers she'll need to meet Symin this afternoon to oversee the final plans for the school, but all of that can wait a little longer. It's still early, and she has the time to sleep in.
Zelda falls back asleep to the sound of Link's heartbeat.