Chapter Text
There’s a little house in Hateno.
It’s not grand, but it’s his. The bed and the desk. The little kitchen area and the table. And although he lives alone, he always makes sure that there’s two place settings on that table. Some fresh flowers. There’s a reason for that.
It wasn’t always his. Well, it was, in a way. But he forgot about it. He forgot many things. All the things, really. The pretty voice from the castle gave him back his name. Link. And a sad, regretful ghost gave him hers. Zelda. And then he had a purpose.
There’s a princess in the castle and a Beast he’s meant to kill.
There’s more, of course. Like mechanical beasts and people he forgot and someone named Impa he’s meant to see. Also something about a sword. Apparently he was knight. He’s not very sure what is it that a knight does, but he’s sure he’ll figure it out. In the meantime, the princess with the pretty voice believes in him and it’s stupid how much that matters. He’ll have to figure that out too.
Impa sends him on his way with a story, a shirt and that this slate thing is supposed to hold his life. He pokes at it for a while. He gets nothing from the photographs but the blue glow makes his brain tingle and the blue tunic makes him feel so much it almost overwhelms him. It’s honour and responsibility and belonging and friends and so many other things that are too strong too ignore and too fleeting to register. Memories that aren’t memories. Impressions. Familiarity. In time, he’ll grow used to the feeling.
That’s how he ends up a homeowner. By walking aimlessly into a town that gives him the tingles and finding a decrepit house that feels just right. He has no idea why. It’s falling apart, but when he’s told it’s going to be torn down, the thought fills him with grief. He decides to buy it on the spot.
He got ripped off. Bad. It takes him a while to pay for the house and longer for all the repairs and the furniture. You see, when old King Rhoam sent him on his way with a paraglider and a mission, he didn’t exactly add a pouch full of rupees for all his home buying needs. Or explain rupees. At all. Or gems. He had to figure out on his own what made these shiny things better than the other things and he’d barely figured out the cost of arrows when he decided to go full in on a house.
It’s nice though. Sure, there’s nothing in it and the roof is leaky in spots. But he’s been roughing it for a while. Sleeping in stables when he can. Although mostly just outside. When he’s lucky, it doesn’t rain. It’s good to know he has a place to go back to, even if he doesn’t spend much time there.
He starts helping people. Nothing big, just getting them out of a tight spot or running small errands. Sometimes he gets a meal out of it or some rupees. That’s not why he does it, though, it just seems like the decent thing to do. They tell him stories too. Of the life that is and the life that was and sometimes he gets a little glimpse into who he was too. It’s odd. To see himself like that, a stranger in other people’s tales.
Zelda. Zeldazeldazeldazelda... He keeps repeating that name in his head because it’s all he knows of her and she’s most of what he knows of himself. He’s tired and muddy and hungry and he just fended off a bokoblin with a soup ladle because he broke his last sword on a Lizalfos head. Still, when he sits down to eat, he tells her about his day. About the shrines and his progress so far. The voice in the castle is silent tonight. He hopes she hears him anyway. He talks to her a lot in his head. Why wouldn’t he? She’s the only permanent thing in his life so far.
Champions. That word means something too. A lot. Their faces are fuzzy. Their names aren’t there. The Zora girl that’s breaking his heart. The Gerudo woman who has his back in something. The Goron that makes him feel at ease. The Rito can just go fuck himself, though.
She stands in the middle of it all. Clear and sharp and as beautiful as her voice. But so very sad and so alone. It startles him, this new knowledge, but it feels true. How deeply unhappy she was. Did he ever reach out? Make her smile? He hopes he has.
There’s a tall Zora guy that needs a Hylian. He’s open and sincere, maybe a little too much, but Link likes him right away. He might not know much of who he is, but Hylian? Yeah, that much he’s got. Off to the Domain he goes. It’s what he gets in the bargain that he never accounted for.
It’s his fault she’s gone. His fiancée. The pretty Zora Champion with the big round eyes. They all hate him for it and he doesn’t blame them. Only himself. But Sidon still believes in him, somehow. And there’s a chance she’s trapped in there. And he’s made a promise to a different princess that he refuses to break. So he bundles all the grief inside him and gets ready. It’s time to free the beast.
His fiancée wasn’t his fiancée after all. But she was so, so very dear to him. And she had a name. Mipha. He meets her spirit and her eyes still look the same as on the day he broke her heart, when he told her he couldn’t be the boy she loved anymore. There’s a sword on his back that weights the world and it changed him too much. He doesn’t know that man either and the load he carries suffocates him.
The last thing she tells him is to find the Princess. He doesn’t understand why that makes him feel so guilty.
There’s a house in Hateno and its walls are sturdier. The roof doesn’t leak anymore. He sits by the pond, looking at photographs. In releasing Mipha, he found the elders’ forgiveness. In Sidon, he found a friend. In the younger Zora, shards and pieces of the boy he was and the man he became. He doesn’t know how to connect the two. He’s not sure he wants to.
There’s a sword in the forest that’s been calling his name. It haunts his dreams. His soul screams at him to go get it. He knows he can’t yet. Remembering how strong he once was has made him realise how weak he still is. The thought brings him more comfort than it should. Because he knows the cost now. The expectations. The isolation. He’s terrified of becoming the man he was. Still, he keeps on. Day after day. Shrine after shrine. Because Zelda is growing weaker. He feels it in her voice. In how fewer signs of her presence she sends him. And for her, he must.
He doesn’t tell her of the fear in his heart. He’s too ashamed of it.
He seeks respite in Death Mountain, much like he thinks he used to in the times before. There’s yet another beast to tame and he’s hoping that whatever memories of Daruk he can find will ground him, even if his presence can’t. He’s disappointed in neither. Seeing his friend is a joyful kind of pain. He’s thankful for the chance to say goodbye. For the times they fought together. And for his counsel. Particular as it was, Daruk had a way of cutting through the bullshit and giving him perspective.
He can’t avoid the feeling that he came to him more than once, seeking perspective on Zelda.
Yunobo is an odd little one, and Link can’t help himself but grow fond. He wants to thank him, but the young Goron keeps interrupting, trying to apologise for his cowardice. So he tries to explain about courage and fear and how you can’t find one without the other. He ends up feeling like a hypocrite. Yunobo rolled up Death Mountain while shaking in his boots, but he did it. Meanwhile, he’s hiding from a sword in the woods and the shadow of a knight. He picks up his slate and makes a decision.
He finds there’s a sword that talks to him and a princess that doesn’t. He wants to reach out, but he doesn’t know how. She won’t let him. He’s as confused now as he was then. All he knows is that the sword is to blame.
The strength of her loathing hits him harder than any punch could. It’s relentless. It comes to him in waves and he’s never ready for it. She doesn’t shout at him, other than that one time. She just...can’t seem to stand to breathe the same air he does. Put enough distance between them. She despises him, through and through. He never felt more lonely than in those days with her.
The little house in Hateno has a brand new bed, because he was tired of sleeping on the floor. Now he’s just tired. He tosses and turns and doesn’t sleep at all. This isn’t them. It isn’t. Because her voice is gentle. Because she sounds like she believes he can take on anything in the world. Because she makes him want to. He grasps at little flashes of shared meals around a fire. Stolen moments in a study that was way too full of stuff. They’re short and refuse to linger, much like her voice these days.
There’s a princess in the castle. And he doesn’t know her at all.
He goes to Impa because he’s tired of games. Of going around with a slate in his hand and hope in heart that he’ll run into the right patch of grass. That that’s the one that will make it make sense. And this time, he’s not letting her get away with some cryptic remark and a life lesson. Oh, he’ll save Hyrule alright. But in the meantime, he wants to know exactly what hold this princess has on him that he refuses to give up on her despite all he’s learned.
“You already know. You’re just refusing to remember because you were told how it ends.”
He makes sure to slam the doors on his way out.
He climbs the highest place he can find. There’s a castle in the distance and he wants to be certain they have a clear view of each other. “Who are you?” he screams into the night. And waits. A Beast laughs in the sky. She arrives as little more than a whisper. “...must remember. The slate, Link. Please…”
Enough with the photographs! What’s in them that she cares so much? More of his misery?
“Us…”
The rain is warm and tastes like tears.
There’s sand in his boots. There’s sand on his face. He tries to wipe it away, but he’s sweaty and only manages to smear it around his growing sunburn. There’s probably sand on his slate too and that’s why it stopped working. But somewhere in this mess there’s also Urbosa. And as far as he can remember Urbosa knew two things. Zelda, and more than she let on.
He wasn’t ready for the pint-sized force of nature that rules over the town these days. A damn kid, with too much to prove, especially to herself. Too much to carry, so young. Far too clever for her own good. Too much like them. He leaves her with some sparring lessons, a pun and a promise to return. He doesn’t know much about ruling, but he can be a friend.
That guy that stole her helmet really did have a dumb belly, though.
With Urbosa comes clarity. Although she’s the ghost, he’s still the one left feeling transparent. It’s okay. She’s only ever used that power for good. Guided them to each other, when the chasm was just too big and he was ready to give up. She’s all fire and battle and fun but as much as she wants revenge, her words are comfort and absolution and so much care for the princess. For him too, he knows. She leaves him with a wink, and he leaves with a smile.
He probably should go get Revali. But there’s a voice calling to him from deep in the woods. Something he’s long feared. Something he’s long missed.
Something he wants back.
It’s like reuniting with an old friend. The barest brush of his fingers and it hums in recognition. He closes his hand around it and his arm finally feels complete. It’s still gonna do what it’s gotta do and test him for all he’s got. He wouldn’t have it any other way.
He can’t be like the knight. He still doesn’t know about ‘hero’. He never heard the Goddess any better than Zelda. But the Sword’s chosen? Yeah, he’s that. So when he raises it up high and slashes at the air, it isn’t just acceptance. They’re bound. And it’s exactly as it should be.
It’s rocky with Teba at start. He’s a bit gruff. The strong, silent type who thinks he needs to take on every problem alone. A common affliction among the heroically inclined, it seems. So he tells him. He did the “all by himself” thing. Ended up by himself in a slate coffin for a hundred years and still doesn’t know how. The Champions? Fought alone. Dead. There’s only one person he knows who’s been all by herselfing with any sort of success and she’s got holy blood in her veins and a magic he can’t even begin to understand. And that’s after whole lot of good people laid their lives just so she could.
What she doesn’t have is time. So it’s not about pride, and it’s not about glory and Link wants all the help he can get because failing can’t be on the table. He leaves it up to Teba to make the right choice.
He doesn’t disappoint.
Revali’s...Revali. Turns out distance doesn’t make the heart grow fonder. Death didn’t make them suddenly appreciate each other. The bird would still happily kick his ass, if he could, and he’d gladly kick right back. But they part with an understanding. A grudging respect, even. They both need to do this and he knows Revali will have his back. For her.
Teba’s kid is one rude little weirdo. He grows on Link.
The little house in Hateno has a table and he likes to eat his dinner there. That’s how it comes to him one day. Same house. Different table. Fuller. A father, a mother, a sister and laughter and joy and comfort and friends and neighbours that visited. Before there was a sword. Sometimes after, too. He wasn’t expecting it, but somehow, he doesn’t feel surprised. No. It feels just right.
He wonders if he ever had them over. Zelda. The Champions. He knows immediately the answer is no. The knight would never. Too personal. Too close. Too humble for the circles he moved in those days. He was never ashamed, not for a moment, but what interest could they have in his simple Hateno life? No, better keep things separate. It was safer that way.
He misses her. Whatever they were or didn’t get to be. However he feels and felt. All the complicated stuff aside. He misses her. Misses talking to her. Real, actual conversations that could go on forever, because they somehow got each other, even if he could never say it right and she needed three turns around a point to make it. Just listening to her go on about her research. The way she used to smile when they were alone. He misses that the most. The way it made him feel to know that, if only for a little while, he got to make her happy.
He buys some flowers. Sets them on the dinner table, because his mother used to do that and it always made the house look homey. Rearranges the dishes. He’s not the knight anymore. He’s gonna keep parts of him, like honour and loyalty and duty but they’re a part of him differently now. But he’s also just going to be whoever he’s turning out to be.
So he climbs up on the roof, because he wants to tell her that. And about the plates. How’s there’s two of them, because she’s not here, but he’s not alone. And when it’s all over, he’s gonna bring her home. And then he’s gonna cook her dinner. And they’re just going to talk, the way they used to. Because that’s what you do, with the people you care about. You share your heart and you share your table and that’s the kind of person he wants to be.
Her voice doesn’t come but she sends him the breeze. It smells like grass and swift violets and oily mechanical gears. And that feels just right too.
You’d think after all the trouble his house gave him, his building days would be over. Yet somehow, he’s helping to build a whole new town. Helping choose the right people. He’s not entirely convinced on the criteria, but everyone seems happy. And it felt good. Like putting back a bit of what was broken.
Not every stranger’s a friend, but any stranger could be. It’s odd to think like that. Of ways of reaching out, instead of closing in. So many come in and out of his life in those days. For all, he tries to do his best. Some of them stay.
He’s still keeping an eye out for Yiga, though.
Shrines. Shrines, shrines, shrines and more shrines. Some weeks, his life is shrines. The thing is, he remembered something else. Turns out he did try to take her to Hateno once. Fort Hateno, at least.
He didn’t quite make it.
But in that last moment, he got to see it. Her. Becoming everything he always knew she would be.
She thinks he’s ready. He thought he was ready then too. So as long as she keeps holding, he’ll keep finding every blasted shrine. Every little thing that can give him an edge. This time, he’s going to live. Second chances are hard to come by but she made sure he got one. And he fully intends to make it count. In this, and everything else in his life.
Kass gifts him a song. He’d call it an ear worm but it went and lodged itself fully in his heart. It’s astonishing, how they could see through each other so well, and yet see nothing at all.
In the little house in Hateno, the flowers have wilted. It’s been a while since he’s been. So he goes and gets new ones. Sweeps the floors. Gets rid of every spec of dust and makes sure the pantry is stocked. Sets the table just perfect. It may be an odd thing to do on what is the last day of the rest of his life, but his plans have evolved.
There’s a Princess in the castle and a Beast he’s gonna kill.
They’re going to need some place to recoup. Plan their next steps. Or the rest of their lives. His place seems as good as any to him. His face heats up when he puts fresh linens on the bed for her. Eyes the bedroll in the corner. So what, if maybe he’s hoping that’s temporary? He doesn’t want to rush things, but he doesn’t want to wait another lifetime either. He wants her to stay. Be permanent. And he’s got good reasons to think that maybe she does too.
That settles it, then. Come morning, he’s going to ride up to the castle. He’s going to fight the Beast. He’s going to win and he’s going to free her. And then, he’s going to kiss her.
He doesn’t kiss her.
It’s not that he chickens out, it’s just that they’re a little banged up after it all. He didn’t take that into account. Well, he’s a little banged up. She’s glorious and glowing and beautiful. Maybe a little unsteady on her legs, since she hasn’t had any for the last one hundred years. But just as perfect as he remembers her. He, on the other hand, has a splitting pain on his side that’s making it hard to breathe. His mouth tastes like blood and he’s not entirely sure that he hasn’t lost a tooth. There may have been a point or another when he was seeing two of her. And he really can’t go kissing her with a bloody mouth.
So when he croaks out a “yes” in answer to her question, he doesn’t so much run to her as he stumbles in her direction. And when she puts her arms around him, he can’t be sure if she’s hugging him or supporting him. But he holds on to her with everything he’s got, until their legs give out and now he’s pretty sure they’re both crying on the ground. He doesn’t care. She’s there. Really there. They’re both alive. And they’re together.
He vaguely remembers getting to Hateno. Nearly falling off his horse when they arrive. Barely making it up the stairs. Mumbling something about a bedroll and the bed being for her when she lays him there. She may have uttered words like “delusional” and “stubborn”. Figures the first thing they’d do would be to argue about something. She’s smiling like she loves him though, so it can’t have been that bad.
“I need to take your shirt off, okay?”
What? Now? But he’s still got a bloody mouth. “Your wounds look severe.” Oh. That. That makes more sense. Then his boots come off and his pants. He firmly holds on to his underwear because there’s no way the first time she sees him naked is like this. She looks confused. “I don’t think you’re injured there.” Thank the Goddess for small mercies.
She washes him up. Cleans and treats his wounds. Dresses them. Her touch is gentle. Caring. And it heals him in a way no medicine can.
He wakes up he doesn’t know when, gasping her name and terrified this was all a dream. Her hand is in his instantly. She sits on the bedroll by the side of the bed, slate discarded at her side, eyes full of worry. He’s pretty sure he’s burning up. Every part of him aches. Doesn’t matter. This is wrong. This is all wrong.
She’s been fighting for so long. Did so much. Kept them safe. He needs to be her strength. It’s his turn to guide her because everything is the same but everything is different and some days it hurts too much just to remember. Instead he’s laying there like some damn invalid. Like he never took a punch. Some hero…
“You’ve been my strength for one hundred years. Let me be yours now.”
She doesn’t let go of his hand.
He reclaims the bedroll as soon as he can stand. It’s become something of a point of pride for him. So when she refuses, he just pulls it from under her feet and sits on it, triumphant. She spares him exactly one look of outrage before striding over and plopping herself down on the remaining space, arms and legs crossed. She’s not saying a word, but if this is a silent argument they’re having, he’s pretty sure he’s got the edge.
She’s really pretty, though. Even when she’s mad. A week ago, he was plotting how to kiss her. In the meantime, they’ve saved Hyrule from the Beast that’s threatened it for a century. That nearly destroyed them. And now they’re fighting over who gets to sleep on the floor. This might be too inane even for them.
She must be thinking much of the same because a smile creeps into the corner of her mouth. He grins. He’s not sure who is the first to laugh, but it takes a while before they can stop.
It’s the first proper conversation they’re able to have since her return. He wants to say so much he chokes on it. She’s not doing much better. But then she asks about people and places and topics that aren’t them and that he can do. He reminds himself that for the first time in their lives they have time. Soon, they’re talking like the old friends they are.
It’s after midnight when the past and the loss and the last century catch up with her. Sometime later, she’s softly crying on his lap. He’d give his right arm to bear that pain for her but he knows he can’t. Instead, he strokes her hair, tells her some of the things he hasn’t, shares his own regrets. It helps. Both of them.
It’s just before dawn when they’re making pancakes in the kitchen. He dares her to flip one to the ceiling. She balks, so he does it instead. It hangs there for a few seconds before it comes crashing down on the counter and spills flour all over. This isn’t at all the dinner he imagined. But it’s exactly what they need.
The next day, he finally manages to out-stubborn her. She sleeps on the bed.
It’s been nineteen days. They’ve been to Purah’s. To Impa. They talk about seeing Robbie. Hateno seems to fascinate her. The grief, it comes and goes. There’s waves. They help each other through them. She’s settling and that makes him happy. He still hasn’t kissed her.
A damn chicken. That’s what he is.
Day twenty one. And it’s self-preservation, really. He finds her by the pond, holding a frog. He remembers this. He knows how this ends. So really, he had to. It might also be that it’s the first time since they came home that he’s seen a full, true smile of joy on her face and all of a sudden everything inside him seems to hurt and burst from how much he loves her. But mostly it’s self-defence. He either puts lips on her or on that damn amphibian and at some point, a man needs to choose his fate.
His ploy works as intended. Zelda drops the frog. Five seconds later, he’s pretty sure she’s forgotten there even was a frog. Eight, and he’s forgotten how to think at all. It’s a long time before he’s able to collect his thoughts again.
Day twenty seven and they’re falling on the small bed, all tangled up and heated and a little awkward, but so, so very sure of what they’re about to do. Turns out that when you do nothing for a hundred years, things tend to escalate quickly. He stops counting after that. Every day he gets to wake up to her smile.
There’s a little house in Hateno and she correctly points out that it is a little too small for his plans. But he made a promise to himself, so he just goes and borrows tables from the inn to set outside. Books every room while he’s at it. It’s the most commotion Hateno has seen in ages. There’s Sidon and Riju and Buliara and Teba and Saki and Tulin and Yunobo and Impa and Purah and Symin and Robbie and Paya and Kass and Amali and the girls. It’s not the type of visitors that Hateno usually gets, but word has started to spread that the princess is living in the village. The curiosity doesn’t bother them much.
He still can’t believe they all agreed to come but it means the world to him. It’s just a day and it’s just a meal, but it’s also him, in a way the knight never could. They’ve lost so much. But in these people – these friends – it’s everything they’ve gained. It’s hope and redemption in the people he could save.
Although he supposes Zelda’s presence makes the little house a lot more appealing.
“Link, I’ve barely met half of them. They’re not here for me.”
Sure, but also, princess.
“Hero. And you still have no idea of the way you can affect people.”
He doesn’t know what to say to that.
He finds her at the top of the stairs, staring into the bedroom.
“There’s only one bed.”
Well, yes. It’s the same one they always had. Maybe it’s a bit on the small side, but he kind of likes that. He gets to sleep all wrapped in her. They can get a new one if it’s an issue.
She shakes her head.
“They’ll know.”
It’s Hateno, a hundred years after the end of the world. People are born, they grow up, they get together, they have kids, they grow old. Sometimes they have a little ceremony if it matters to them. Sometimes they don’t. No one cares. They care how the weather will affect their crops and about remaining monsters attacking them on the road. This? Not so much.
“Do you care?”
“I...I don’t know.”
Maybe you can take the princess out of the castle, but you cannot fully take the castle out of the princess. So he takes the bedroll out of storage and drops it at the foot of the bed.
“Plausible deniability,” he shrugs.
It bothers him more than he wants to let on.
It’s probably gonna be a little awkward, though. ‘Cause Paya has feelings and he’s pretty sure Yunobo went and got a crush. Sidon doesn’t know but Kass knows a little too much. Impa’s probably gonna kill him just on principle and Purah will give them crap for weeks.
They sit around the table sharing stories and laughter. Impa and Purah and Robbie who haven’t seen each other in so long. Sidon, fascinated and terrified by Riju’s power. Yunobo brags to the kids nothing will penetrate his shield and they immediately test that theory. He’s pretty sure even Teba cracks a smile.
He tries to make a little speech. Maybe not his best idea, considering his reputation, but he wants them to know – he could never have done it without them. He only chokes a little.
“We always believed in you, Link,” Sidon says, suddenly serious.
He chokes a lot. Under the table, Zelda squeezes his hand.
“Come on, Linky!” Purah says, “Crickets? Of course she was lying. What girl even wants crickets?”
He doesn’t say a word. He’s got a feeling he won’t need to.
“What’s wrong with crickets?” the princess wants to know.
He smirks.
“Point taken,” Purah grumbles.
She comes to him at sunset. Surprises him, when she slips her fingers in his and rests her head on his shoulder.
“I don’t care,” she says.
He kisses the top of her head. Over Riju’s, Kass smiles a knowing smile. Sidon’s eyes go a little wide when he notices, but surprise is quickly replaced by an exited thumbs up and one of those smiles. Paya doesn’t notice. She’s too busy not staring at Sidon’s chest.
“Eewww, you guys are gross!” shouts Tulin, in a flurry of feathers.
Well, everybody’s looking at them now. Somehow, Impa leaves his ass unkicked.
They travel. He watches her brace herself as they meet new people. Awaiting their scorn, their hatred, their judgement. Heir to a throne of failure, she calls herself. The people meet her with awe and open arms. The princess who sealed the darkness, they whisper. She doesn’t know what to make of it.
He holds her when she threatens to crumble under everything that’s missing. Bleeds from the wounds on the land. He shows her his way of mending it. Small acts. Little gestures. You help one person and then another. You fix what you can, until it all adds up to a difference. She takes to it like she’s been doing it her whole life.
In their home in Hateno, Zelda asks a little hesitantly if they might add a bookshelf to the room. The precarious pile she keeps in the corner does seem to keep growing, so he’s quick to agree. He finds her surprisingly adept with a hammer.
“I’ve been around tools my whole life,” she laughs. “Did you think I was fixing Guardians with my bare hands?”
No, just stopping them.
He gives it a little shake when they’re done. Tests it out. Knocks on wood. Decides they built it sturdy. Solid. The kind of thing that lasts a lifetime. It’s the first of several other pieces they’ll build.
They watch the sunrise from their hidden corner on Tuft Mountain. One of those moments they steal for themselves, among everything there’s still to do. It’s hard work, but it’s worth it. Tomorrow, they’ll depart again. They won’t rush to their destination. Instead, they take their time learning the new contours of the land.
He’s never loved the wild so much as when he shares it with her.
In the little house in Hateno he’s pacing the room. It’s a town full of hypocrites. So are their friends. They’re perfectly happy to live their lives in peace, but when it comes to his everyone’s suddenly throwing around words like “consort” and “ring” and “official” and “castle”.
They’re happy. Life is good. They don’t want a ring. They don’t need a castle.
“It was always going to come up, Link. I don’t see how you’re surprised,” she says, surprisingly calm at his rant. “Let them talk. We’ll do things on our own time.”
He doesn’t get how she doesn’t get it. That expectations creep in and take hold of your life.
She takes on bigger and bigger projects between their travels. A school, memorials, roads, bridges, settlements. Reconstruction on a larger scale, she calls it. Hyrule blooms anew under her guidance.
There’s digging under the well. A study. A quiet place where she can focus, away from the children, she tells him. He looks around, at the many furnishings they’ve built together since and occupy the better part of the house. At the books and baskets and rolls of parchment and knick-knacks that sprout like mushrooms. So maybe he can be a little energetic, but she’s messy! Only he’s always made room for her in his life. And now she’s back to digging for space from him.
It’s a muddy, damp, dark hole that’s barely furnished. There’s frogs in it. She’s delighted.
She wants to restore the castle.
Everywhere they go, she’s loved. Her light may have awed them, but her heart won them over. Her people have become her strength. To her they come for aid and counsel and direction. Without hesitation, she steps forward. He steps back and lets her fingers slip from his. Falls into a familiar place.
Everyday, she is more their princess. And he becomes more of the knight.
There’s a castle in the sky…
...He can’t do this again.