Work Text:
The scent of blood and death filled the air. Ashes floated about, carried by the wind from the pyres used to dispose of the corpses, or from the flames that still licked the charred remains of so many homes.
“How many dead?” The queen whispered to her aide, one of the Sheikah charged with her protection.
“A lot. Several dozens, at the very least.” The lithe man answered. “However, for a town of this size, that’s surprisingly few.”
“Could they have been made prisoners? We should send scouts to find the main force.”
“Unlikely. Look how many monster corpses litter the streets. Either this was the largest warband they’ve mustered in centuries, or the citizens managed to escape. We should search the surrounding hills.”
“Then how did they leave? If they’d had advance warning…”
“Your highness!” The voice came from one of the surrounding streets, filled with urgency. Zelda had her horse turn about to face the source. Impa, her faithful right hand, surged from the remains of what seemed to once have been a street market. “Please, you must come quickly!”.
“Sir… I’m afraid that…” The young medic looked genuinely shocked. The poor guy clearly wasn’t very used to this kind of scene. The kingdom had been mostly at peace for decades now, and he was young, so that didn’t surprise Link the slightest.
“Don’t worry kid. I knew long before you showed up this was my last hurrah.” Link groaned, gritting his teeth through the pain. “Just help me up a bit. I’d hate to die lying down with a Moblin of all things.”
It didn’t feel like that much of a good idea anymore when the man lifted him up against the wall, apparently lodging the spear even deeper in Link’s side. Not that the damage wasn’t already done.
“Do you… I don’t know… need anything, or have any words you want to leave?”
“Nah… just… leave me alone. Nothing against you kid. Just want some peace. You know, for the end.” Link’s voice was getting noticeably weaker.
The young man looked like he was about to protest, but seemed to decide against it. Link closed his eyes, not caring about whether or not the medic would actually leave, only to be interrupted.
“Link?”
Urged on by her old confidante, Zelda heeled her horse, moving as swiftly as she could through the streets. They’d quickly reached the main street, where they’d found the worst of the carnage. The farther in she went, the more battle scars she could see around herself. Monsters strewed about, many struck down by a single arrow to the head, neck or chest, some blasted apart by explosives. Deeper in, puncture and blast wounds gave way to sliced appendages and chopped head. Black, purple or green blood oozed in and around the pavements, forming an eerie series of markers on a path of death and gore.
All of it led to a quaint, but solid, hovel near the town square, surrounded by blast marks, arrows and dying embers of a magical firestorm. Dropping to the ground and leaving the horse to her silent aide, the queen strove through the corpses, the lavender strips of cloth decorating her battle armor darkening as they dipped in the debris.
There was no need to push open the door, as splinters of wood around the entrance were the only indications it had ever existed. Zelda could hear a man talk in a nearby room, then the shuffling of steel plates as a soldier moved about. She reached the end of the entrance hall, and couldn’t hold back a gasp.
“Link?”
The man was sitting up against the wall, a moblin’s spear buried in his left side, the tip of an arrow sticking out of his thigh and severe, bloody gashes on his head, arm and legs. He was surrounded by yet more of the corpses, including the owner of the spear in question, who had a sword down to the hilt through his neck.
Forcing his weary eyelids back open with not just a little bit of annoyance, Link considered cursing at whoever had the gall to come in and screw up the one last moment he’d have to himself in this sorry excuse of a world.
However, that thought went right past him on the way to the afterlife when he saw her. It had been so long since their last meetings. Twenty? Maybe twenty-five years? Even then, he’d recognize that face anywhere. Especially considering how gracefully she’d aged. The years of ruling didn’t seem to have put any strain on her, but that wasn’t surprising. He himself still looked pretty young for an old geezer. He’d chalked it up to being one of the goddesses’ chosen.
“Hey Zel.” He breathed. “It’s been awhile”.
Funny how the nickname slipped out so easily, as if they’d kept regular contact. He was a bit pleased to see the hint of a smile flash through her worried expression. It was fleeting, however. Probably something to do with the bleeding, he thought.
She kneeled next to him, her already bloodcaked battledress soaking up more liquid, this time red blood.
“Oh, Link…”
She pressed her gauntleted hand against his cheek. He stared into her eyes, the same deep cerulean he remembered from their younger days. And their former older days too, as he liked to call them. Not that they remembered those anyway. He and Navi were the only ones to do so after all.
He liked those eyes. They were full of hidden wisdom. Or at least, used to be. Now that wisdom exuded from every pore of her body. She certainly had grown into a great ruler. No wonder she was so beloved by her people. He couldn’t stand the expression though.
“Don’t worry. I’m fine.”
Again, a flash across her face. This one lingered, however.
“Yeah. Right.” She said, sarcasm clear in her voice. “Can I just worry for once?”
“One last time, yeah.”
“Not. Funny.”
“You love my humor.”
“No. I don’t.”
Even the pain couldn’t stop the smile from forming on Link’s lips. Just like the old days.
She took his hand into his own and slowly pulled his glove off. He couldn’t help but feel guilty when her eyes changed back to sadness as she stared at the slowly dimming golden glow. Reacting to his own piece, Zelda’s hand started glowing even brightly, enough to shine through the back of her glove.
“Bought me some time, but yeah… won’t save me this time.” He huffed. It was becoming even more difficult to talk.
“Do you think it… we… could have been different?”
“Don’t know. Probably. Bit late to ask, don’t you think.”
“It’s not like you gave me lots of opportunities, mister “let’s avoid the queen as much as possible even when she summons me personally multiple times.”” The betrayed tone of her voice was painfully sincere.
“Aren’t you married… with kids anyway? The news did get all the way to Holodrum.”
“So that’s where you were hiding. And yeah, I am.”
“Hope he’s treating you right. Not that you couldn’t… have him executed if he didn’t.” He really couldn’t help himself with the bad jokes. Something with catching up decades of bad jokes, maybe.
“The snoring made me consider it seriously, to be honest.” She chuckled. He liked that better than the sad eyes. “And you… met anyone?”
“Yeah. Few people…” He whispered.
“Kids?”
“Kids…” Link didn’t know, for sure. There was that girl in Ordon. Nice woman, heart of gold. Probably his longest lasting relationship. He heard she’d had a kid at one point after they broke up, but it could be anyone’s.
“No.” He knew Zelda too well to even give her a hope. She’d have the kid found, brought to Castle town and raised with all the comfort in the world. He’d like that, but she’d tell them about their dad, and if she did, they might end up wanting to be like him. He didn’t want that life for them.
Link coughed, causing Zelda to snap her eyes back up. He tried to raise his hand to wipe off the blood from his lips, to no avail.
“Link…” she whispered. Wiping the blood off herself, she gulped down in a weak attempt to rid herself of the lump forming in her throat. “Do you need anything?”
Link closed his eyes. “Just… stay…”
“Of course.”
The voices inside had died down a while ago. Impa couldn’t keep the captains and aides busy forever, they’d start asking questions. Stepping inside, she couldn’t help but stare silently for a moment.
She hadn’t seen Zelda’s tears since she was still just a kid. There were no sobs, no sniffing, but two visible streams glistening down her cheeks and onto the slowly cooling fingers she pressed against her lips.
The queen slowly placed the hand she held back onto the fallen hero’s chest. She turned towards Impa silently. Even with her eyes reddened and face wet, she still had a commanding, regal presence.
“Have you found the survivors?”. Her voice almost didn’t show her pain. Almost.
Impa was mildly surprised at the question, but didn’t skip a beat in answering.
“Yes. They were hiding in the hills to the south. He bought them a lot of time.”
“Good.”
Stepping forward, Zelda didn’t so much as look back towards the corpse. Passing by Impa, she stopped.
“Have my personal carriage brought here. I… He deserves better than a backwater town as a resting place.”
“Who is this guy again?”
“I don’t know, some local hero who saved people back in the countryside.”
“And that warrants… this?”
“Apparently.”
If it hadn’t been required of a queen to be presentable and regal at all times, those nobles would have been in a lot of trouble for those words. Of course, they didn’t know that he had saved their lives and those of all they cared about, and were genuinely surprised a relative unknown got a state funeral. It was a rather grandiose one at that. Procession from the Temple of Time, burial in the Royal Crypts, the whole thing.
It’s only halfway through the town square Zelda had finally admitted to herself he’d have hated every second of it. If that was possible, he was probably staring at her disapprovingly from the afterlife. She was the one who needed this. Who needed to say goodbye to him, to their history and to all the could-have-beens. Kind of silly to sink so many rupees into a therapy to herself, considering she was usually seen as a very generous ruler who spent little on decorum and royal glorification.
“Your Highness”.
Interrupted in her misery, Zelda twisted around to find the Zora ruler, and Water Sage, looking at her, an understanding look in her eyes.
“I didn’t know him a quarter as much as you did and yet… I miss him. I think we all do in our own ways.” She said, eyeing Nabooru and Impa talking over by the buffet, while Darunia and Saria looked out the balcony into the setting sun in silence.
“I… always expected I’d die before him for some reason. He looked so… invincible.”
“True. The dashing hero of Hyrule. A pity I didn’t get to see him as an adult. He was quite the looker back when Ganondorf was ruling the place.” She chuckled. The attempt at lightening the mood was laudable, but all it did was create an even worse pit in Zelda’s guts. It didn’t take long for the Zora to see her fellow ruler’s discomfort.
“What is it?” she asked worriedly.
“I… I didn’t get to tell him. He never knew…”
“Tell him what?”
“That we remember. That we all remembered when you awoke as Sages before Ganondorf was sent through the Mirror of Twilight. He died thinking nobody remembered what he did.”
“Welcome, Link.”
Link floated in what looked like an infinite expanse of emptiness. He didn’t feel his body at all.
“Where am I?” He asked in his mind, the thought echoing across the void as if he’d shouted it with lungs he no longer had.
“At the crucible of the universe. I am Farore, and you have passed onto the afterlife. I wanted to take a moment to thank you for your service to Hyrule and the world me and my sisters created. You can rest now, Hero of Time. It is time for you to move on and meet your predecessors. The next generation of the Hero is assured, thanks to you. The Spirit of the Hero has chosen your grandson as its next bearer…” The voice boomed across the emptiness around him, yet remained as soft as a mother speaking to her child.
“Wait, what? Don’t do this. I never wanted this. There are thousands of kids in Hyrule. Don’t make him live the life I lived. He deserves better! I fought for his future!”
“We do not choose the next hero, Link. The Spirit does. All we do is send it back after each of your passings.” The voice was firmer this time.
“Then send me back! I’ll serve again!”
“This is also impossible. Your body has been destroyed in the years it takes for a soul to reach this place. Even if it hadn’t we cannot revive those whose souls are departed. You would be a mere image of yourself, a shadow to be driven to insanity by the restlessness of the living dead.”
“No! I don’t care if I’m a ghost or a zombie. I… I can’t let him repeat my mistakes.”
“Take your rest, Hero of Time. It is your due reward. You will meet your successor in the future, when his own time has come to an end.”
“I can’t. I can’t rest! I didn’t leave anything for him. Not even my knowledge, or even the memory of what I’ve done. I don’t want him to go out the way I did.”
“Very well. I will allow you to roam Hyrule as a disembodied spirit if so you wish. Be warned that your appearance and sanity will decay. You no longer bear my mark, hero. It will not protect you anymore. Return here once you realize your time is over, or haunt the world forever.”
Had it been years, or decades? Was he still in Hyrule? How could he know. The land had grown strange recently. That much he was certain. He didn’t even quite remember why he was there, or even what he was. He roamed the lands, stopping only to observe the people who lived. He envied them, so carefree, so unaware of the fate that awaited them, if they were as foolish as he was. Forgotten, but unable to move on.
The only inkling, he had was his sword skills. It was the only knowledge he remembered. How to wield the sword he bore in this skeletal form. Not that he was able to use it at all, for he was an immaterial spirit. When he saw the guards train, he was despondent. Such terrible technique and lack of courage. These were supposed to be this world’s protectors? How he longed to teach someone. It was all he wanted, yet none reacted to his calls.
Until now.
He could feel the presence, far, far to the south. Not even a man yet, the boy had more courage in him that everyone else in this land together. He was worthy.
So the spirit raced across the land. From the frosty mountain peak, through the parching desert and across the lush southern forests, until he found him in that spring. Now was his chance to make contact. The one step he had never succeeded in doing.
The rush of thoughts and emotions was exhilarating as he entered the boy’s mind. So this was what it felt like, to be alive. To have blood pulsing through your veins and emotions filling your heart.
They were now standing in the empty, cloudy mindscape he’d created, figments of the world peeking through both of their memories. The boy raised his sword, obviously believing he was being attacked. “Good”, the spirit thought. Time to test this new blood’s skills.
He allowed the boy the first move. The strike came down fast, and the aim was almost perfect. But the hand was hesitant, thanks in no small part to the hideous figure it was attempting to strike. Disappointing. The spirit slapped aside the sword and smashed his hilt in his attacker’s face, sending him flying to the ground.
“A sword wields no strength unless the hand that holds it has courage. You may be destined to become the hero of legend… but your current power would disgrace to proud green of the hero’s tunic you wear.”
Where did that come from? Why did he know that outfit, or that stuff about heroes? He was not sure. He only knew of his purpose: this man would be shaped into a warrior, whether he wanted it or not.
“You must use your courage to seek power… and find it you must. Only then will you become the hero for whom this world despairs. If you do find true courage, and you wish to save Hyrule from the horrors it now faces… Then you will be worthy to receive the secrets I hold.”
The spirit departed the boy’s mind, knowing he’d planted the kind of seeds such a man would not be able to ignore. No matter their intentions to use it, all humans desire power, and even more so when they so desperately need it. So he would come to him.
And so he did. Again and again. And throughout their encounters, the spirit remembered. More and more rushed back every time. The pain of old wounds, the suffering of such a traumatizing life, the joy of simple things like fishing near Lake Hylia, the sadness of watching so many pass without being able to save them, the regrets of not taking chances he could have. Regrets that were now sated, at last. He now recognized the boy he had sparred with so often. The man he had carefully molded into the true hero that could be worthy of taking his place in the pantheon of Hyrule’s legends. And so it is with hope and relief that the Hero of Time finally passed on, bidding farewell to the boy he now finally recognized as his descendant.
“Go and do not falter, my child!”
It was a strange feeling. It had been so long since Link had felt this… light. It was as if he floated, even though he could feel the soft grass pressing against his back, through the soft clothes he was now apparently wearing. Gone was the chain-mail and the rough tunic. It was a nice feeling. Link thought he could just lie there and sleep forever.
“Ah, there you are.”
The voice was… familiar. He couldn’t quite place it though. Opening his eyes reluctantly, Link saw a man staring down at him. The face was also very, very familiar. The kind of familiar one would feel while looking at an old picture of themselves.
“We’ve been expecting you for a long time now.”
The man offered his hand. Link grabbed it, and was pleasantly surprised at how easy it was to spring up to his feet. Gone was the pain of exhausted muscles and aging articulations. He felt as fit as back in his “glory days” as some might call them.
“I’m forgetting my manners. Hi Link, I’m Link. Welcome home.”