Work Text:
Link was not ready.
Even though all of his life from the Shrine had been preparing him for this very moment. The first of his waking breaths had been filled with a cry of his necessity to succeed.
To save Hyrule.
To free Zelda.
To take up the mantle of ‘hero’ that was left by the version of himself who lay scattered amongst the kingdom.
Each memory he regained was only a drop of water in the ocean. They reminded him of who he was fighting for, when he could hardly remember his own name. They left even bigger gaps in the holes he tried to fill. Remembering them only came with the knowledge that he had already failed them in a past life.
But now here he stood. In the middle of the battle-torn field where the great beast had just tried once again to stamp out life as he knew it.
Ganon was gone. Dead. Sealed. It didn’t matter. Because now nothing stood in between them.
There was Link.
And there was Princess Zelda.
She was as radiant as the moments he remembered. Even with hair askew. Dress torn and muddied. Her eyes remained unchanged; they shined with excited hope. Then she spoke:
"Do you remember me?"
The true implications of Impa insisting on his wearing the Champion's tunic was lost on him until this very moment.
Link was not ready.
Before Zelda stood a stranger in the skin of her hero, in the same attire as that fateful day where Hero and Princess had been much less successful at the end of the day. He wore his hair the same, even if it was longer now. He bore the same scars, though back with plenty more. Like a perfect imposter. Worse than one, maybe, since imposter implied the real one was still around, after all.
Any words dried up in his throat. She deserved an answer. But what could he say? What was left to say?
Everything she knew was gone. Destroyed. Different. Dead. Because he had already failed. This was not the Hyrule she had left behind. Yet, this is the one he brought her back to.
He had taken much too long to reply. The hope in her expression turned from initial excitement into a desperation.
He wondered what lay in his own?
Did his own eyes reveal the fear rising within him? Or were they blank and without feelings like the Link he used to be? Maybe they gave her the answer that he was too cowardly to confess out loud?
He did not know her. Minute glimpses into his past were not, could not, be enough to bring back what was lost. There was no relationship between them now. It had gone back to the distant duty-bound knight and his princess. No friends. No… anything more.
He wanted to run (his frame was too spineless to act) or to hide (the field held nothing more than cleared space). Anything but face her.
Link was not ready.
And Zelda, who had been able to keep an eye on her Hero this whole time, regretted that she had dared to ask.