Chapter Text
“Can I get my white horse, please?” Link asks the man at the Dueling Peaks Stable counter.
The man shuffles some of his papers and double checks, “Horse Two, you mean?”
Next to him, feeding Horse an apple, Zelda giggles.
“Yes,” Link sighs. “Horse Two, please. And do you mind dressing her with my royal set?”
The man at the counter glances between him and Zelda with a pleased, knowing sort of smile. “Of course. Horse Two will be right out for your lady friend, dressed to impress her.”
“I-I’m not-” he splutters, and before he can properly explain himself the man has left the counter to explain the prices of the beds to a Hylian traveler.
“I think it’s funny,” Zelda says when he joins her in stroking Horse’s mane.
“What, my naming conventions for my horses?”
“No, that everyone you talk to seems to think that we’re in some kind of romantic relationship.”
Link chokes on his tongue.
“It doesn’t bother me, I’m flattered that they all think I’m pretty or whatever else they say, but why do you think they think that?”
Because I’m awful at hiding my feelings for you, I have no idea how you don’t know, and I think you wanted to kiss me, too, before you lost your memories, so-
“I traveled alone my entire quest,” he says. “And then suddenly you’re here, by my side, beautiful and around my age. It makes sense why everyone thinks-”
“You think I’m beautiful?” Zelda’s voice softens, her expression open and adorably surprised. She stares at him like his feedback on her appearance is the only one she cares for.
Link so desperately wishes he had the ability to go back in time a minute just so he can kick his own ass. He swallows and sincerely tells her, “I do. I…I think you’re very beautiful, Zelda.”
She smiles. “Thank you, Link. And for what it’s worth, I think you’re very beautiful, too.”
Warmth in the shape of a Silent Princess blossoms in his chest. He’s been complimented for his looks plenty of times, been called ‘handsome’ and ‘manly’ and ‘rugged’, but those don’t hold the same staggering impact that a Gerudo calling him ‘pretty’ in his vai outfit did, those don’t blanket him in a sense of rightness that Zelda telling him he’s beautiful does right now.
His face burning, he manages a quick, “Thanks.”
“Link?” The stable-master calls, grabbing his attention, the ends of his mustache tilted towards his chin in a frown.
He jogs back over to the man behind the counter. “Yeah?”
“Horse Two apparently got into some food she shouldn’t have when our groomers weren’t looking. She’s sick, won’t be of much use on the road. Where are you headed? I could send ahead to the nearest stable and get you another ride-”
“No, no it’s fine,” Link shakes his head. “We can just share Horse.”
“I’m terribly sorry about this, I-”
“It’s all right,” Link digs into his wallet and hands him a red rupee. “Here. For whatever medicine Horse Two needs. She knows better than to eat Hylian food.”
“What is it?” Zelda asks when he returns to her side.
“Horse Two is sick, looks like we’ll just be sharing Horse’s saddle the whole way.”
She shrugs. “All right.”
—
Zelda slept through the majority of their first ride through Hyrule Field, exhausted from her century spent fighting the Calamity, so as they leave the Dueling Peaks and enter Central Hyrule Link takes the time to explain all of the sights she missed.
“That’s the Great Plateau over there,” Link points to the towering stone wall of the plateau in the distance. “The second memory you’re going to try and get back is by those trees, so we’ll have to backtrack after we hit this first one. I don’t know why the plateau is so high up from the rest of Hyrule, Impa thinks it used to be an island from when Hyrule was flooded thousands and thousands of years ago.”
“Hyrule was flooded?” Zelda leans against his back, her arms wrapped around his waist, her voice in his ear. “Why?”
“Something about the Calamity’s human form almost conquering the whole kingdom, I think. The Golden Goddesses flooded the kingdom to save it from destruction, and mountains became islands that any surviving people lived on. When the Calamity’s human form came back again, wanting to complete his mission of taking over Hyrule, the Hero and the Princess Zelda of that era killed him.”
“The Golden Goddesses,” she repeats. “Din, Farore, and Nayru, right?”
He nods. “Do you remember learning anything about them from Before?”
“No, just what I read in that book back home. Din is for the Triforce of Power, Farore for the Triforce of Courage, and Nayru for the Triforce of Wisdom.”
Her use of the word Home makes him smile. She really does think of Hateno as home. “Right.”
“Why, do you know more about them?”
In the back of his head, there’s a faded, translucent memory of standing before the Great Deku Tree, but he’s much shorter, and the Master Sword does not sleep at his base. A fairy floats beside his head, and when the Great Deku Tree speaks, its Hylian is strange, using words like “thy” and asking weird questions like, Navi, where art thou?
He shakes his head. “No. I wish I did. They’re connected to the dragons, too, or at least the dragons are named after them, and I’ve-”
“Dragons?”
She…He didn’t…Nobody told her-
“You don’t know about the dragons?”
She laughs in his ear, incredulous when she demands, “How would I know about any dragons, Link?”
They’re in Hyrule Field proper, now, the castle straight ahead and growing closer with every beat of Horse’s hooves pounding against the grass, and Link tugs gently on the reins to slow him down as they near the ring of trees surrounding the Sacred Grounds.
“Maybe we’ll see one on the way to a memory,” he says, already planning a detour over Lake Hylia so she can see Farosh, “I’ll take your picture with it.”
“‘Maybe’, huh,” Zelda chuckles, pressing against his back and squeezing his waist, hugging him from behind.
—
The Sacred Grounds are the same as the last time he saw them, when he was running through them in his haste to get to the castle and save Zelda. Though, this time, there are no Guardian Stalkers on the prowl, waiting for him to step onto the carved stone so they can take aim and shoot to kill.
“This is the first spot,” Link says. “Just looking around, do you remember anything?”
Standing beside him, Zelda turns her head this way and that, examining the Royal Family’s crest engraved into the stone at their feet. After a moment, she shakes her head, responding, “Nothing. What happened here?”
He grabs her hand and pulls her to the center of the carvings. “You were standing here, in all of your royal, princess-y fineries and clothing. I-” he drops to one knee before her, the Master Sword’s strap tightening against his chest as the scabbard pulls against the curve of his spine, “-knelt before you like this, and you made me the Hylian Champion. You gave a speech about my past lives and how the Master Sword and I are bound to protect Hyrule, that being the Hero was a great honor.”
It was hot, that day, the middle of a sweltering summer, and Link vehemently hated his leather boots that trapped the heat and created a lake of sweat in his socks. It was his first time officially wearing the Champion’s Tunic, the shirt that the beautiful princess before him had painstakingly crafted by hand, but all he could think about was the heavy chainmail beneath it, how what peeked out from underneath the blue cloth burned against his skin from the heat.
“It was my first time wearing this,” he pinches the Champion’s Tunic, drawing her eyes to where his fingertips connect over his heart. “I told you back in Hateno that you made it for me. Do you remember that?”
Again, Zelda shakes her head, glancing around the Sacred Grounds once more. She’s tied her hair back into a ponytail, but some flyaways wisp out from the hair-tie she borrowed from him and fall delicately around her face, framing her round cheeks and jaw in a way that tugs at a memory in the back of his head, one of when they were possibly children. Did he know her when they were kids? He must have, right, and even now they’re still-
“How long did it take for your memory of this place to come back?”
Link thinks back on it. “When I first got here, I was dodging Guardian lasers left and right. Once I took care of them, and everything went quiet and I really got to think about it, I remembered it clear as day. Why don’t we wait another minute, I’ll shut up till then. If it still doesn’t come back, we can try something else.”
They wait. A light breeze ruffles the flyaways framing Zelda’s frown. She closes her eyes, her face scrunching as she supposedly thinks really hard, and Link bites his lip to keep from laughing at her.
She sighs, her face relaxing as she opens her eyes and shakes her head a third time. “Nothing. What now?”
“What if…” he chews on his lip, now, thinking. He falls back from his knee to sit on the ground, his legs in the shape of an M, scooting back so the Triforce is in the dip of where his legs cross. “Sit with me.”
Zelda sits across from him, mimicking his position, the stone Triforce between them in the sun. Link unclasps the Master Sword from his back and places it over the carving, pulling off his shirt.
“Link-” her head whips to the side, her cheeks going red. “What are you doing?”
“You’ve seen me shirtless before,” he reminds her. “Remember Kakariko? The bathhouse?”
When she was naked and he was halfway there and she touched his chest and said, Your heart is racing, when she didn’t know what his scars were from and he had told her, It’s okay. You can touch them, they don’t hurt, when he had lied, Your fingers are cold, so he didn’t have to explain why it was that his heart was kicking into overdrive at her touch, at the sight of her before him, radiant and alive and here.
“That was different,” she breathes, still refusing to look at him.
“How?”
“We were—I was—It’s different.”
“Just look at me, Zelda,” he coaxes, smiling. “Just my face if that’ll make you feel better. Please?”
She turns her head back to him, meeting his eyes. “Why did you take your tunic off?”
“Because I want you to hold it for a second,” he offers it to her, holding it over the Master Sword. “You made it, I ripped it up, and then you fixed it. It’s yours as much as it’s mine.”
She takes it, their fingers brushing as she pulls it close and examines the fresh stitches she made. “Everything’s holding. I was worried some would come undone during the ride here.”
“I wasn’t.”
“You weren’t? Why not?”
“Because I know you. You don’t make any mistakes.”
“Sure,” she chuckles. “Like failing to unlock whatever Golden Power I had a hundred years ago wasn’t the result of some kind of mistake?”
In this moment, talking down on herself for something entirely out of her control, taking the blame for the Goddess that refused to listen to every single one of her prayers for eleven years, Zelda has never seemed more like her old self.
“It wasn’t your fault,” he tells her, unable to feel any sort of hope about the fact that she’s acting like the Zelda he was expecting to save. “It wasn’t your fault then, and it sure as hell isn’t now.”
“I can’t even remember them,” her voice breaks, her fingers tracing over the white outline of the Master Sword’s hilt on the shoulders and collar of the Champion’s Tunic. She ducks her head and Link has to bow his in order to keep her eyes on his. “I’m sure you knew that, but it didn’t set in for me until recently. I made more than just this tunic, right? I made all of their sashes, the uniforms they died in, and I can’t even remember their faces.”
“You’ve seen their picture in the house, the one over the-”
“I’m remembering the picture, not anything else. Still images of four people long dead, not my living, breathing friends-”
Tears drip from the corners of her eyes down onto the Champion’s Tunic. Link reaches across the Master Sword and covers her clenching fists with one of his hands, unfurling her fingers from their death-grip in the blue cloth and replacing it so she’s squeezing his fingers, instead. He’d hate for all of her hard-work repairing the tunic to come undone by the force of her grief, and her nails were dangerously close to one of the main stitches. He knows that it would only make her feel worse if that were to happen.
“I didn’t know who they were when I remembered this,” he keeps his voice low, just loud enough to cover the sound of her quiet, hitching sobs. If he distracts her from the fact that she’s crying, maybe she’ll stop. “Do…Can you remember who was who?”
Her next sob is answer enough. Link pushes the Master Sword out of the way and pulls Zelda into his arms, hugging her close as she cries, curled around the Champion’s Tunic like it’s the last thing she owns. She buries her face in his neck, her shoulders trembling as he slowly rubs her hitching back.
“Revali was the Rito, the…the one that looked like a bird,” Link can only imagine the face Revali would make at being reduced to nothing but ‘The Bird-Looking One’, but for the sake of Zelda only remembering the one picture and never having met a Rito, before, he has to generalize. “In the picture back home, he’s shocked because Daruk, the Goron, the big rock guy, had slapped him on the back. Revali was prideful, but for good reason. He had invented a new way of flight that launched him straight into the air in a swirling vortex of wind. He called it Revali’s Gale, and with it he was the best archer Rito Village had to offer. It’s why he was the Rito Champion. Daruk was always laughing, happy to just be around us, and like all Gorons he was strong, a warrior. But unlike the rest of the Gorons, he had magic: a magical shield he dubbed Daruk’s Protection that kept him safe from attacks from anywhere.”
“Revali,” she repeats, her voice shaking and just barely a whisper. “Daruk.”
“Mipha was the Zora Champion, the one that looks like a fish, from Zora’s Domain just north of Hateno. She was their princess, and she was both a healer and a force to be reckoned with in battle. Her Grace stitched up any ally’s wounds, and her trident pierced the hearts of any monsters that dared to harm them. She was kind, and she was quiet. She…” he falters. “She wanted to marry me, and I didn’t even know she felt any sort of way about me until I went to fix Vah Ruta after I got off the Great Plateau. I felt awful because I didn’t—I don’t—love her back, but I keep her armor with me as a reminder that I had a friend a hundred years ago, someone who was always there to look out for me.”
Zelda sniffles, clutching the Champion’s Tunic tighter. “Mipha.”
“Finally…” he swallows. He’s not sure how he can possibly explain what Urbosa was to her. “Finally, there was Urbosa, the Gerudo Champion, the tall woman with red hair. She was a fierce warrior who could summon lightning, and she…she was close with your mother. When the Queen of Hyrule died, she treated you like you were her own daughter.”
“Urbosa-” Zelda devolves into hysterics, sobbing so hard she goes silent.
All Link can do is sit and hold her, shielding her from the bright sun with his scarred spine, the discarded Master Sword buzzing in its scabbard, the humming hilt clattering against the stone like porcelain about to shatter.
—
Zelda is quiet as they ride back towards the Great Plateau, her fingers curled into Link’s back like she wants to rip the Champion’s Tunic from his body.
“We can swim in the lake,” he suggests, forcing some enthusiasm into his voice in an effort to lighten the mood. “I’ve done it a lot, it’s fun. There’s a little island in the middle with some ruins, I could show you-”
“It’s all right, Link,” her voice is hoarse and empty, exhausted. Her arms are the loosest around his waist that they’ve ever been. “You don’t have to pretend.”
Pretend?
“Pretend?”
“Like that wasn’t a massive failure. Like I’m not-”
“You’re not a failure,” he cuts her off, firmer than he was when she was crying. Horse whinnies beneath his hands as if to agree. “You’re not. Even if you were, I would refuse to call you one.”
“Why?”
“Because-” he stops himself. Because I love you. He takes a breath, gathering his thoughts together, and continues, “Because I wouldn’t have saved you as quickly as I did if I thought you deserved a hundred years of captivity with the Calamity as punishment. I would’ve stayed in Hateno once I bought the house.”
He thought about it, sometimes, after he bought the house in Hateno: Paying Bolson a little extra for a lock on the door, climbing into his bed, and waiting for the end of the world to strike, waiting for Zelda to die, for her voice in his head to go quiet, for the sky to go red and for the clouds to turn into bleeding streaks of sunlight and for a Bokoblin to kick his door in and eat him alive just so he could catch a break from all of the weight on his shoulders. He stayed in Hateno for two weeks, testing the idea out, keeping an eye on the beach once the Blood Moon passed to see if the monsters became any stronger, but they didn’t. They didn’t, and everything was fine, and Link was resigning himself to living quietly for however much longer Hyrule was going to exist when he had a dream.
In the dream, he was standing in a world made of glass, shallow water lapping at the bottoms of his boots, and a skeleton in armor was standing across from him, a sword in its hand and a shield on its arm. Link looked down and there was an at the time unfamiliar sword in his grasp. The hilt was a purple, bluish color, and the steel blade hummed with an energy that vibrated deep in his gut, like his very soul recognized the sound of its song.
What do you think you’re doing? The skeleton asked, its broken teeth chattering together as its crackling jaw twitched up and down, a crude approximation of a voice leaving its cordless throat. You’re not allowed to give up.
Where am I? Link had immediately questioned. Who are you?
You don’t even know who you are, The dead warrior had sneered. My identity is not your concern at this moment in Time.
You know who I am?
I know you better than anyone else. I know you better than you once knew yourself one hundred years ago.
How?
The skeleton raised its sword, pointing the tip of the sharp blade at his face. You want answers, Boy? Win them.
Link blinked and the sword was there, slashing towards his throat, and he instinctively raised the one in his hand to block the strike. The resulting CLANG echoed through the silent realm of his dream, and the glass trembled at the sound of the stranger’s reedy, croaking laugh.
There’s some fight in you after all, The…knight had mocked, only knights would wear armor like that and have that kind of sword, but all of his equipment is nothing like anything Link had ever seen during his travels through the Wild. His armor was brown, with red streaks of paint—blood?—swirled on the chest plate, his horned helmet adding at least a foot to his already towering height, and his sword sounded like it was made from iron instead of the steel that the humming sword in his grasp was made out of. I guess even cowards wearing courageous skin need to know how to survive in the world he’s dooming to a slow, painful Demise.
What are you talking about?! Link had fought back, then, trying his damndest to get a hit in on the walking corpse, but the corpse was good, was better than him, and had him splashing in the water in the blink of its single red eye, the unknown, humming sword boiling the water it was discarded in. I don’t even know who you are!
Zelda asks, “Why did you save me?”
The skeleton had held its sword just beneath his jaw, its breath steaming. Look at me. Really look. Open your eyes.
He did. He looked and looked and looked, and only when he wrapped his fingers around the sword he was given did he really see who he was fighting.
A Hylian boy his height, with his dirty blonde hair and his blue eyes and his face, wearing his clothes and holding his sword. The only difference between himself and this—this impostor was the blood. The Link standing over him was covered in it, his tunic torn and his hair matted to his forehead, deep gashes marring his cheeks. There was a hole the size of a cannonball in his stomach, the smell of burnt flesh dirtying the air, and his chest heaved like he would collapse at any moment.
This is what being the Hero means, The Knight panted, swaying where he stood. No matter how hurt you get, no matter how afraid you are, you always get back up. You always face the bastard that’s trying to knock you down. You always fight.
I don’t want to fight, Link breathed. Not anymore. I have a house, I have friends, I have peace-
And who gave you that peace? Who is responsible for you being here, now, asleep in your house? Whose life are you contemplating?
He had swallowed, the bob of his throat scraping against the tip of the wobbling sword and stinging as it left him with a shallow cut. He rasped, Princess Zelda’s.
Princess Zelda’s, his dead counterpart echoed. She knows who you are. She can answer all of your questions. All you have to do is collect what’s yours and save her.
Collect what’s mine?
Lifeless eyes drifted to the sword gripped in his dripping hand. She’s been waiting for you, Hero. Both of them have. Save the princess, save Hyrule, and you’ll be saving yourself from a very short life of empty, boring misery. You’ll never be me again.
That… Link faltered. That’s selfish, isn’t it? Isn’t the Hero supposed to be the good guy? Saving Hyrule because it’s the right thing to do?
His corpse laughed. Saving the kingdom of Hyrule is the most selfish thing you could do. Letting it rot would be mercy.
Link had snapped awake, safe in his bed in Hateno, with a bleeding cut on his throat and a burning right hand. He found Korok Forest and the sleeping Master Sword two days later.
He rubs the small, rough scar on his neck, dragging the pads of his fingertips over the notched skin, and responds, “I wanted answers.”
For the first time all morning, the Master Sword goes silent.
—
They reach Lake Kolomo at noon, dismounting Horse and sitting together on the sand.
“Here,” Link pops a handful of rice balls from the Sheikah Slate’s inventory and passes some to Zelda. “Lunch time.”
“Thank you,” she murmurs.
A squirrel runs up to them, and Link picks a chunk off of one of his rice balls and hands it to the little guy, laughing as it nibbles through the food.
“That’s only going to train it to come back instead of going off and looking for food,” Zelda tells him, though the tiny smile on her face as she watches the squirrel grasp for more rice betrays the scolding nature of her words.
“He deserves it after running around all day.”
“How do you know it’s a he?”
“I don’t,” Link passes the squirrel another chunk of rice, stroking his fingertip over its head and grinning as its bushy tail twitches. “This could very well be a fine lady looking for a meal.”
Zelda unwraps her rice and lifts a ball to her mouth, taking a bite. “This fine lady likes hers. How do you make rice so good?”
“What,” he frowns. “You don’t like rice?”
“I like it, just-” she motions to the still-eating squirrel. “How do you make everyone love you?”
Everyone?
“Everyone?”
“Yes!” she swallows her food, her hands waving around in the air as she continues, “You have so many friends, Manny and Prima, Impa and Paya, Purah and Symin…Everyone in Hateno and Kakariko likes you for who you are, I’m just wondering how do you do that?”
“I don’t-” he shakes his head. “I don’t know. I just…talked to people, on my quest. I helped a lot of them with their problems, some of them paid me, I came back for more. Most of my friendships started because these people were, uh, ‘clients’, I guess. People in need of some kindness that I was happy to give. Why?”
Zelda flicks a bug off of her Hylian Tunic, brushing her long hair off her shoulder and behind her ear. She takes another bite of rice. The squirrel finally runs off, squeaking as if to tell its friends, I ate! I ate! I found food!
“Zelda?”
“I…” she trails off, deflating, bowing her head. “Everyone I’ve met is nice to me, and I appreciate that, but they’re nice to me because they know who I used to be, before I lost my memories. They’re nice to me in the hopes that I’ll get my memories back, that I’ll remember who they are, and that I’ll be able to reciprocate it. They’re not talking to me, Zelda, they’re talking to the memory of Princess Zelda. I’m just a placeholder until she returns.”
“Not to me,” he says.
She blinks up at him. “What?”
“You’re not a placeholder to me. I’ll be honest with you, I’m…disappointed, that you lost your memories. I don’t like it as much as you do, but that’s because you’re the only person who can tell me who I am. I was told that you’re the one who knew everything about me, and at the slow pace that my memories were coming back I was desperate for a quick solution, and saving you was it. So I saved you, and I expected you to tell me who I was, who I’m supposed to be, but instead you asked me the same thing. But to tell you the truth, Zelda, the memories of you that I have from Before, from all of these spots, are...”
“They’re what?”
“Sad,” Link breathes. A bird whistles, flying over their heads. The water of Lake Kolomo laps at the beach. “They’re sad, Zelda. You’re sad. How you were back at the Sacred Grounds is the closest you’ve ever come to acting like Princess Zelda, and no matter how badly I want you to be the person I was expecting, no matter how selfish I am, what I want most of all is for you to be happy. You’re happy, like this, you were happy in Hateno. You deserve to be happy after everything that you’ve gone through. I’m not bringing you to all of these memory spots because I’m trying to force your memories to come back, to force you to be sad again, I’m taking you here because you wanted to come. You wanted to pursue getting your memories back this way, you wanted to explore, and I’m happy to help. Does it benefit me? Down the road, sure, but that’s not why I agreed to show you around Hyrule. It’s not why I helped you get back on your feet in Kakariko, and it’s not why I offered the house in Hateno for you to live in while we rested.”
“Then…” Zelda stares at him like she did on Hyrule Field after sealing the Calamity, like she’s never seen him before. “Then why?”
Do you have a…a ‘crush’ on anyone?
“Because while I may be everyone’s friend, you’re mine. I want to help you because…”
A breath of fresh air lives in your lungs, the sun rises in your smiles and sets in your frowns, I could die happy so long as I get to hear you speak my name.
“Because?” There’s something like hope in Zelda’s eyes. She leans forward in the sand like he’s going to tell her a secret, sacred thing.
I love you, I love you, I love you.
“We’re friends,” he whispers. A coward wearing courageous skin. “I could never leave a friend in need.”
Disappointment—Disappointment?—flickers on Zelda’s face, gone in the blink of an eye. She goes back to her rice balls.
(Did…Did she want him to say something else?)
Two more squirrels appear at his side, staring at his food with wide, begging eyes.
(Like what?)
—
They take off their boots and socks, cuff their trousers, and wade into the lake.
“Can you tell me a story?” Zelda asks, wiggling her toes in the dense sand.
“About what?” Link questions, doing the same. It never gets old for him, how nice the cool water feels on his bare feet.
“The two of us. Something you remember.”
He thinks. He could tell her about his first day as her appointed knight, how he had to chase her all around the castle because she was hellbent on being left alone. He could tell her about his first day as her friend, their journey back to the castle from the Kara Kara Bazaar after he saved her from the Yiga. He could tell her about the family meals they would eat with the Champions every month, how the host would change and they would have to travel all over Hyrule just to see their friends, how when it was Urbosa’s turn to host them at Gerudo Town the Chief brought him and Revali matching vai outfits as a prank and Daruk begged for a veil because I want to fit in, too, how Link wore his sirwal with pride and there was a bounce in Revali’s step, how Mipha took the Sheikah Slate from Zelda’s waist to snap a picture of our boys, how Zelda sputtered in response but didn’t correct her.
He could tell the story of that time Impa stole Purah’s goggles and as vengeance Purah stole Impa’s hat, how he couldn’t tell the difference between the sisters for the whole week they wore each other’s clothes just to spite their respective sibling, how even King Rhoam had to look twice before he accidentally asked Impa to explain the intricacies of the Guardians, how Zelda only added to the confusion when she tied her hair up like Link’s and wore the Master Sword just to escape her daily prayers, how when Link shyly asked if he could wear one of her dresses to help sell the act she laughed like she loved him and presented him her wardrobe along with a pair of heels, how he would prefer to wear her clothes instead of the sword that seals the darkness any day of the week and that when he knelt before the Goddess Statue and she stood guard at his back he prayed that it would happen again.
(He’ll keep that one to himself, for now.)
“How about that time we danced?” he proposes.
“We danced?”
“We danced a lot,” he laughs. “It came with the whole ‘Princess and Hero of Hyrule’ thing. Your father threw so many parties to try and let the people know that everything was fine, that there’s no way the world could end if the castle was lit up by music and fireworks every night, and we had to go to each and every one.”
“Do…” she offers her hand. “Do you remember any of them?”
He takes it. “Kind of.”
She steps in close, staring up at him. “Show me?”
He places his other hand on her waist, lifting the one he’s already holding. “Put your other hand on my shoulder.”
She does. “What now?”
“Follow my lead.”
They sway, gliding through the water, their feet splashing through the surface as he attempts to lead her through his fractured memory of a waltz.
“I was wearing my Royal Guard uniform,” he begins. “You know, the red and blue outfit with the silly hat you laughed at?”
She grins. “I do know.”
“I was wearing my Royal Guard uniform, and you were wearing your fancy blue dress, and the party we were at that night was to celebrate some old guy’s birthday. A friend of your father’s, probably someone we didn’t like.”
Her toes brush his in the water and she stumbles not to step on him. “Why don’t you think we liked him?”
He catches her, keeping her balanced, and replies, “Because we laughed when a waiter tripped and spilled wine all over his tunic, while everyone else in the ballroom gasped like he had been shot with an arrow by a member of the Yiga Clan.”
We’re horrible people, aren’t we? Zelda had giggled when the commotion died down and they continued their dance.
No, not at all, he had laughed. We’re the picture-perfect standard of a Hero and Goddess Incarnate.
They had stayed the center of attention for two more songs before King Rhoam finally nodded in their direction, allowing them to stop dancing. Zelda had beelined for the edge of the room, Link ever-so-dutifully on her heels, and picked up two glasses of Hylian wine, handing him one.
I’m on duty, he had refused.
My duty, she had corrected. I’ve seen you eyeing these all night. Go ahead.
Glancing around the room, making sure no one was truly watching, he took the offered drink and yelped when Zelda then dragged him out of the ballroom entirely and down the hall to the observation room, up the hill of stone stairs and to the balcony under the stars.
“What next?” The Zelda in front of him asks, staring down at their feet in the water to try and avoid stepping on him again.
“That’s all I can remember,” he slowly twirls her, pulling her back to his chest and holding her close. “We snuck out of the party and drank a glass of wine together.”
“Hm.”
“What do you mean, ‘Hm’?”
“I didn’t know Princess Zelda was that much of a rebel.”
And that sparks something in him, opens a door deep in the recesses of his mind, and-
They’re on the balcony under the stars, standing next to each other at the railing. Link’s hands are gloved in white, and Zelda’s taken off hers to dip her bare fingertip into her wine and drag it around the rim, streaking it in red as a constant ringing noise pierces the air.
You’re good at that, he compliments, watching her finger circle the glass over and over. I didn’t know you could do it.
One of my many hidden talents, she jests with a smile. Alongside juggling and mountain lion taming.
He laughs, sipping at his wine and relishing the burn sliding down his throat. Of course, how could I forget. We’d better be quick about this, or else your father is going to send Impa after us.
Impa likes wine, too, I’m sure she could be persuaded to leave us be.
He blinks and the memory shifts. He and Zelda are pressed together in the night, their faces so close he can feel her breath on his chin.
It’s… he falters, staring at her mouth. It’s inappropriate, Princess.
Hero, Zelda takes his face between her hands. Hers are cold from the night air, but they feel nice on his flushed, burning cheeks. You should know by now that I don’t give a damn about the rules.
He leans in, pressing his lips to hers, and when she kisses him back it’s like the tangled web of their entwined destiny has finally straightened itself out, like everything in the world finally makes sense, like-
He blinks and he’s dancing with Zelda in the shallows of Lake Kolomo, her laughter echoing through the air once they trip over each other and splash down into the water.
“What happened there?!” she laughs.
I’ve kissed you before, Is all he can think. And you kissed me, too.
He forces himself to laugh back, “I don’t know! Guess we’re both out of practice!”
She snorts, “I wonder why!”
(He’ll keep that one to himself, too.)
—
Soaking wet, they mount Horse and go on their way.
“Where to next?” Zelda asks.
“Gerudo Desert,” Link answers. He’s decided to skip the memory up at the Ancient Columns because she doesn’t need to be reminded of how much she used to hate him a hundred years ago, he’s told her plenty of stories that drove that message home and told plenty more that let her know that that’s behind them, now, water under a century-old bridge. “The spot where I saved you from the Yiga Clan and we actually became friends. It’s going to be a long ride, we’ll be totally dry by the time we get there.”
“I’m all right with that,” she hugs him from behind, her clothes squishing against his. “I remembered us dancing, back there.”
His heart picks up the pace. How much of us dancing? “That’s good! All of what I said or just the impression of it?”
“All of what you said. The warmth of your hands, the taste of the wine on my tongue, how we laughed at that man getting drenched.”
“Anything…” he swallows. “Anything else?”
He feels her shake her head against the back of his neck, the ends of her wet hair whipping against his ribs. “Nothing else. Why, was there more?”
She tasted like the wine, back then. The wine and something else, something he couldn’t quite describe. Would he taste it again if he kissed her now?
No, he thinks, scolding himself. I can’t pressure her into anything, I can’t tell her yet, I’m still just her friend. She needs a friend, now, not a lover.
“No,” he reluctantly lies. It’s like curdled milk on his tongue, sour and off-putting. He’d spit it out and replace it with the truth if he could. “Not that I know of, at least.”
—
They board Horse at the Gerudo Canyon Stable.
“We have to walk the rest of the way,” Link explains, stocking up on cooling elixirs. The canyon, which is usually the cold calm before the storm, is thick with an out-of-character humidity.
“That’s fine,” Zelda ties her hair up again, rolling up the sleeves of her Hylian Tunic. “This will be my first time seeing the desert, I don’t want to miss a thing.”
He just grins, wiping the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. “There’s not much to miss.”
—
Side by side, they trudge through the scorching sand, squinting to block out the setting sun.
"Link?"
"Yeah?"
"You're right, there's not a lot to look at."
He laughs.
—
The Kara Kara Bazaar is the busiest that Link has ever seen it, Gerudo children splashing each other in the pond and the staff bringing out cooling elixirs to Hylians sunbathing at the last minute, the moon beginning its climb into the darkening sky.
"So this is where you saved my life?" Zelda looks around. "It's kind of like the Ton Pu Inn but...bigger. And with a pool."
"Yeah," Link finds himself agreeing. "I guess it is!"
After a quick run inside to secure a bed for the night, they sit at the edge of the pool and dip their feet.
"Anything coming back at all?" he asks, watching a male Hylian attempting to teach a female Rito to swim, rubbing her back as she clings to him with wide, fearful eyes.
"Just what you told me back in Hateno, about us talking inside of it after the fact," she kicks her feet in the water. "I remember a little bit of Gerudo Town, I think. Walls of sandstone and women in veils, music drifting through the streets. I..." she closes her eyes. "I'm small, very small, my hands tiny as they clutch a stuffed rabbit. I'm sitting on a bed with purple sheets, the mattress dipping beneath my light weight, and there's a woman standing just outside. Her hair is long, red, and her lips are painted blue. She snaps her fingers and lightning strikes."
"Urbosa."
"Urbosa," she repeats, smiling, keeping her eyes closed. She continues, "After the lightning is gone, I laugh, clapping, begging for another bolt. She chuckles and refuses me with a smile. She...She calls me 'Little Bird'. Do you know what that means?"
"It's what your mother called you," he whispers, rapt with attention. Here, the sun's dying light painting her in a kaleidoscope of fractured color, lost in the throes of her memories, Zelda has never looked more alive. "I don't know why."
Zelda opens her eyes. "That's it. That's all I can remember here."
"That's good," he tells her.
She sighs, leaning over and resting her head on his shoulder. "Is it? I'm not remembering anything close to what you're saying I should be, only the stories you tell and stuff that relates to them."
And it clicks.
“The triggers for your memories are probably different from mine,” he realizes out loud.
"What?"
"These locations were important to me a hundred years ago, so I remembered what happened here when I visited them. But for you, these locations might've just been places where you went about your day."
She chuckles. "I'm sure you saving my life wasn't an everyday occurrence."
"We don't know that. It was important to me because it was my first kills, but-"
"It was important to me because we became friends. Why wouldn't it trigger something?"
Link shakes his head. "I don't know, Zelda. But what I'm saying is maybe we should go somewhere else."
“Like where?”
The first place that pops into his head is, “Hyrule Castle. Are you up to going back to it so soon?”
She nods. “Yes, I…I don’t remember anything from my captivity there. The castle is just a castle. Maybe...perhaps it’s better that way."
"If you're scared of remembering the Calamity, we don't have to go. You never have to go back there if you don't want to."
"I want to," she insists. "I do, I just...I'm having fun traveling with you. None of this, from the day you saved me until now, has ever really scared me, before."
He glances down at her, frowning. "You weren't afraid when you didn't even know your own name?"
"Not truly," she shakes her head, smiling up at him. "I had you with me. I can't be afraid with you around."
He swallows. You tasted like wine and something else I can't describe. "But the castle changes that."
Zelda sighs. "But the castle changes that."
Link remembers the aftershocks that Blatchery Plain left him with, how he couldn't look Impa in the eye, how he stormed the castle just to sit in Zelda's room and reread her diary and cry, promising her through his sobs that he would save her if it was the last thing he did.
Would Zelda remember that, if they went? Was she even watching him then?
"I want to show you one thing before we go," he says. They're in the desert, which means they're closer to Faron than they were up in Hyrule Field, and Faron means Farosh. "One last trip before we face the castle and you hopefully remember what you want to."
"You think I'll remember everything there?"
He shrugs with the shoulder she isn't using as a pillow. "I have no idea. Hyrule Castle was important to you, it's where you grew up and spent most of your life. It's where you captured Calamity Ganon and held it back for a hundred years. I'd hope you would remember a lot, because if you didn't I honestly wouldn't know where else to take you."
"Back home," she yawns. "You could just take me back home and tell me all of your stories. Those are important to me, too. You're important to me."
She kissed him back, on that balcony under the stars.
"You're important to me, too, Zelda."
—
Back at Gerudo Canyon Stable, collecting Horse, they run into Beedle.
“Beedle?” Zelda whispers in Link’s ear as the skinny man with the giant backpack waves and approaches. “Like the bug?”
“He has a beetle shaped backpack,” Link whispers back.
“Is that supposed to explain everything?”
“Link!” Beedle chirps, wiping his hair out of his eyes. This is the first time Link’s seen his bushy curls in any sort of disarray. “You’re not going to believe the storm I just ran through to get here!”
“A storm?” he asks.
“A Faron thunderstorm like no other! I collected so many worms! Want to buy any?”
Zelda muffles a laugh in her hands, disguising it as a cough.
“Bless you, miss,” Beedle nods at her before turning back to Link. “So? Want to buy anything? Want to sell me any more gems?”
“We’re all right, Beedle, thanks,” he grins at his favorite merchant. “We’re actually going to Faron now, you think it’s still raining?”
“It was heading towards Lurelin, I think you’ll be all right? I caught the edge of it leaving Lakeside Stable!”
Beedle’s giant backpack is dripping, the little horns at the top drooping with the weight of absorbed rain.
Link can’t help it. He takes pity on the guy and pulls out his wallet. “You know what? I actually need to stock up on some arrows.”
—
“You’re allergic to safflina soap,” Zelda says out of the blue, as they ride towards Faron.
“I am?” he asks, looking back at her over his shoulder.
“Yes,” she nods after a moment. “I just remembered a time where I had my hair washed with the stuff and you wouldn’t stop sneezing. Impa had to guard me for the day.”
“What brought that on?”
“I don’t know. It just…came to me.”
Time, Impa had prescribed them back in Kakariko, after Zelda first woke up and they ate leftover Goddess Day soup on her living room floor. I believe that if we give you time to rest and recover, you will start to return to yourself.
—
The Bridge of Hylia. Midnight.
“What are we waiting here for?” Zelda squints at the night sky. “A shooting star?”
"You'll see," Link sees him in the distance, his electric aura lighting up the horizon. He points in his direction. "Look, he's coming over now."
Zelda follows his finger and gasps, running to the edge of the bridge. "What is that?"
"His name is Farosh. He's one of-”
“The dragons,” she finishes, looking back at him over her shoulder, her eyes lit up in excitement. “You took me to see a dragon!”
“I told you it was a surprise,” he grins. “He flies over here every night and makes his way down to Faron before looping back to the Gerudo Highlands to do it all over again."
"Why?"
Farosh is fast, tonight, closing in on them quick. Link has never seen him in such a rush.
"I don't know. All of the dragons patrol like that, and this is his territory. Naydra hangs around Mount Lanayru and Dinraal flies through the badlands behind Death Mountain.”
Farosh's head snakes over the wall of the bridge, and Link has to pull Zelda back when she reaches out to touch his scales.
"Careful," he says, keeping his voice quiet so as not to startle the dragon he used to antagonize for months, "He's electric, you'll get the shock of your life."
"He's amazing," she whispers, her hand still hovering in the air. "Hi, Farosh."
And Farosh...stops, his hulking body pausing halfway over the bridge.
"Uh," Link gapes.
"What? What's happening?"
"He's never stopped moving, before! I know as much as you do!”
Farosh turns, his neck wrapping around the fountain at the center of the bridge, his face inches from where Link and Zelda are huddled against the edge, close enough that the warm breath from his nostrils wafts over them as he-he sniffs?
Zelda is still holding her hand up in the air. Her fingers twitch as the tip of Farosh’s nose brushes against her palm.
“It’s cold,” she whispers. “He’s cold.”
Three golden triangles flicker on the back of her hand and Link’s eyes bug out his head.
“How are you doing that?” he hisses.
“I have no idea,” she hisses back. “It’s just-It’s happening. I’m warm all over, my hands are tingling, I don’t know.”
Farosh huffs. He nudges Zelda’s golden palm, and a groan rises from his colossal throat. The Master Sword hums on Link’s spine.
Farosh knows, he thinks. The Master Sword knows.
“I think…” Link pinches himself. Nope, still awake. Still alive. He hasn’t eaten us yet. “I think he wants you to pet him, Zelda.”
“What?”
Farosh turns his head and nuzzles into the golden light radiating from her skin, sliding his cheek up and down her outstretched fingers. His gigantic green eye closes, and a low rumble shakes the bridge like an earthquake is striking.
(Is…Is the giant electric dragon purring?)
“Holy shit,” Zelda squeaks.
“Holy shit,” Link dumbly repeats, his mouth hanging open.
He reaches out to touch, too, and Farosh’s eye snaps open, his pupil narrowing on Link’s face. He huffs again, and sparks jump from his horns.
“Okay!” Link manages, holding his hands up in a show of surrender. “Guess you’re still mad about me shooting you, that’s…totally fair!”
Zelda glances at him with wide eyes. “You what?”
“It was for the Goddess! I didn’t want to shoot all of the dragons-”
“You shot all of them?”
“For the Goddess, Zelda!”
—
They reach Lover’s Pond at sunset, and Link is surprised to see that the couple he helped get together here is finally gone. He hopes they’re happy, wherever they are, and honestly he’s never been more relieved to be alone somewhere than here, because he’d hate to get asked questions about why he brought Zelda to a place where two soulmates are supposed to meet.
(They’re technically soulmates, aren’t they? And they’ve already met. Twice, to be exact, at least in this version of the story.)
“Goddesses, Link, look at that!” Zelda spots the wild Silent Princess immediately. “A Silent Princess, all alone out here! How do you think the seeds made it this far?”
He shakes his head. “I know nothing about plants. Anything I do know came from my memories of you.”
“Impa was telling me about them, how they only bloom out in the Wild? I think it’s because-”
Zelda is there, rambling about how amazing it is that this lone Silent Princess has survived all the way out here, and…
Link wonders what would happen if he were to lean in and kiss her. It would be so easy, is the thing, to take her face between his hands, to cradle her cheeks because she’s the most precious thing in his world, and lift her so she’s looking him in the eye. It would be so easy for him to ask her, Can I kiss you? and even easier for her to nod because she hopefully feels the same way about this that he does. It would be the easiest task in his life to tilt his head to the right just enough, lean in so close to her beautiful face that he can feel her breath fan out over his lips, and press his mouth to hers, to show her just how much he cares about her, just how much she deserves to be loved and cared for after everything she’s been through, to possibly reach the Zelda that continues to live in the shadows of her Faron green eyes and drag her to the surface with nothing but the pure determination and force of his love, because he fought for her life once and he’d happily do it again, but does he even need the real Zelda anymore?
The Zelda before him now is the one he wants to kiss, and he’s sure the Link of a hundred years ago wanted to kiss the Zelda of a hundred years ago, because he knows from Kass’s song that the Zelda of a hundred years ago wanted to kiss him, and how could he ever refuse her? Is it really so bad that the Link and Zelda of now, of After, who’ve met once again after a century of separation and months of amnesia and relearning each other, all of their respective quirks and likes and dislikes…Is it really so bad if they’re never truly the same as they once were?
Would this Zelda kiss him back? Is she feeling the same pull towards his lips, towards his very being, that he is towards her? Is this what it means to be a legend, to be a story Hyrule has told millions and millions of times, to be a part in a play that the universe has watched and applauded? They’re destined to be together in some way, shape, or form, they both know at least this much, just like how Link is destined to wield the Master Sword and Zelda is destined to wield her sacred, golden sealing power and how something like Calamity Ganon is destined to try and kill them all. She would kiss him back, he thinks, because at least she’s nice like that, she’s nice enough to indulge him for at least a moment before gently letting him down, but he would very much prefer the first option, where he cradles her face and he gets her consent and they’re happy together like all of the legends say, because they’ve fulfilled all of the requirements to be written in the stars so why shouldn’t they take this chance to shine?
Why shouldn’t Link be able to bask in the warmth of her sun, why shouldn’t Zelda be able to live safe and free with him there to protect her? He might have been her knight a hundred years ago but today, now, he is her friend. They are no longer bound by the duty that was thrust upon them once upon a time, he is longer her Hero just like she is longer his Princess, but still they are already written in the stars. Still they are always together, from now until the end of time.
What would King Rhoam Bosphoramus Hyrule say if he could see them now? If Zelda’s father could see her gushing over the Wild she suffered a century of darkness and malice and Calamity to protect, if he could see her savior debating the merits of whether or not he should kiss her, if he should permanently change their relationship for either better or worse, depending on her own personal feelings towards him, which is why he wants to ask for her permission so why isn’t he? Why can’t he voice these thoughts? Why aren’t his lips moving and why is his tongue not forming the words he so desperately wants to say to her?
Courage, The legends in Zelda’s new favorite book said of his divine virtue. Unwavering Courage worthy of an indomitable spirit.
If he’s so Courageous, why is the idea of kissing No-Longer-Princess Zelda so terrifying?
Because she might reject you, That little voice that always came to him in times of great stress, like during battles with monsters or Yiga or when he lies awake at night thinking for too long, that little voice that always voices his worst impulsive thoughts, comes to life in the back of his head, whispering in his ear, Because she still doesn’t know you, not like you know her, and all you are is her mentor in getting adjusted to this new world, this new life. All you are is a glorified guide like Rhoam was to you on the Great Plateau. All you are is a ghost haunting the memories you so desperately want to return to her so you can feel better about your own lack of identity.
Shut up, he hisses to himself. You’re wrong, I know who I am-
You only know who you are because she told you, because she took those thirteen photos and Impa ordered you to visit them. All you are is a soldier, you only saved her because her dead father is your King and he begged his last living knight to win one more war in Hyrule’s name-
“Here,” Zelda places something behind his ear, and one glance tells him she’s picked the lone Silent Princess and anointed him with it. “You got so many for me, it’s only right that I start to return the favor.”
“You…” he reaches up and touches the delicate petals of her favorite flower. “You picked it.”
“I did,” she smiles. “What, I wasn’t supposed to?”
“No, I just…” he stares at her, at a loss for words. “I thought you would want to preserve the wild ones, they’re…they’re so rare-”
“They’re also beautiful,” she leans in, her hands coming up to adjust his hair, brushing over his scalp. “It would be remiss of me not to pair its natural beauty with yours.”
She’s called him beautiful before, but this time it’s…different. He asks, “You really do think I’m beautiful, don’t you?”
“I do,” her smile softens. “Is that so bad?”
He can’t help it. His eyes drift to her mouth. “No. It’s not.”
She leans in closer, shifting towards him on the grass. She tucks a strand of his hair behind his ear and whispers, “I think you’re prettier than any flower, Link. I hope I told you that a hundred years ago.”
(She says his name like he’s important, like she loves him just as much as he loves her.)
His breath catches in his throat. She’s going to kiss him, isn’t she? She-She wants to kiss him, she feels it, too, she-
“Zelda,” he breathes, cupping her cheek with one hand.
“Yes?” she’s openly staring at his lips, parting hers.
A balcony beneath the stars, a stifling party at their backs.
It’s…It’s inappropriate, Princess.
Hero, you should know by now that I don’t give a damn about the rules.
I love you, I love you, I love you.
“I-”
A frog leaps between them and lands in Link’s lap.
“Ribbit!” It ribbits.
Link and Zelda stare down at the frog. They meet each other’s eyes.
“Ribbit!”
They burst into laughter, scaring the frog away, and she collapses into a fit of giggles against him, practically sitting in his lap as he snickers into her hair.
(That little voice goes silent.)
—
He keeps the Silent Princess behind his ear as they ride away from Lover’s Pond, the still-setting sun painting the grass in hues of pink and purple as the moon slowly climbs into the sky to replace it with a sea of stars.
“Stop at a stable for the night?” he asks over his shoulder.
“All right!” she chirps, smiling wide.
(He can’t stop thinking about her lips, how close she was to kissing him. He can’t stop thinking about how he was going to kiss her back.)
Lakeside Stable is surprisingly busy, and when Link asks the stable-master what all the buzz is about while the staff takes Horse away to be boarded, the man explains that it’s due to the increased Farosh sightings.
“He’s been around all day today!” The man says with an excited grin. “Like he’s happy about something!”
Link remembers how the sacred dragon allowed Zelda to pet his scales, how he nuzzled into her touch and seemed to smile back at them as he flew off into the night.
“I wonder what happened,” he shrugs. “Are there any beds available?”
“Just one soft, three normal.”
Link glances back at Zelda over his shoulder. She’s laughing, crouched in the dirt, cupping a firefly in her hands to show a group of wide-eyed kids.
“We’ll take the one soft,” he says, sliding forty rupees across the counter.
“Sure thing!”
“Link!”
He looks up at the sound of the familiar voice and-
“Kass!” he greets with a grin.
“Hello!” The Rito bard smiles back, nodding his head, his accordion in his hands. “Long time no see!”
“Yeah! I thought you were staying in Rito Village?”
“I heard the news of Farosh’s consistent presence and flew down to see for myself. I’m going to Tarrey Town in the morning, I hear there’s a pretty bad thunderstorm hitting Akkala at the moment and I want to see if Farosh being in our realm has anything to do with it. Are you here to see him again, too?”
“No, no, I-”
“Did you get a bed?” Zelda appears at his side, brushing the dirt from her hands.
“I did,” he smiles at her. “One soft bed just for us.”
“Pr-” Kass gapes. “Princess Zelda!”
“Just Zelda, please,” she corrects, holding out her hand. “You must be…Kass? Link told me about one of your songs.”
“He-He did?”
“Yes,” she nods. “It’s wonderful to finally put a face to the name.”
“Oh, Your Highness—I-I mean Zelda, I-” Link has never seen his friend so flustered. Kass splutters, “I’m honored to even be around you! My teacher was your Court Poet, he spent the last years of his life teaching me about your unrivaled generosity.”
Zelda shares a quick, worried look with Link, and he translates, Do I tell him I have no idea who the Court Poet is? from the worry that enters her eyes.
Link minutely shakes his head, mouthing, Play along, and Zelda chuckles at Kass, bowing her head and replying, “Oh, thank you. I miss him every day.”
Kass holds a wing to his heart. “How he would love to hear those words fall from your lips.”
“Yo, Link!” The stable-master hangs out of his window. “Your bed’s gonna get stolen if you don’t at least stand by it!”
“Sorry, Kass,” he makes the excuse just so Zelda doesn’t have to keep up the act of being the Crown Princess of Hyrule greeting a royal subject. “We kind of need a bed after our days of horseback, talk to you in the morning?”
“Yes, of course,” Kass bows to Zelda. “It’s been a blessing to speak to you, Zelda. I hope we cross paths again soon, I would love to hear about my teacher in his youth.”
“Yes,” she echoes, nodding. “I cannot wait!”
She practically drags Link away from the bright blue Rito, lightly whacking his shoulder as he turns his face into his shoulder to hide his chuckling.
“That was so mean,” she hisses, but there’s no real bite in her smiling voice.
“It’s Kass!” he defends. “You’ll get it soon, it’s practically a sin to disappoint him.”
“Link!”
—
“Link.”
He groans, burrowing into Zelda’s neck and the warm embrace of her arms tucked around his waist.
Her finger pokes his cheek. “Link.”
He cracks his eyes open to Zelda staring at him, similarly sleepy.
“What is it?” he mumbles. He’s shocked she’s even awake this early, being the not-morning-person that she is. Usually he’s the one poking her awake.
“We should leave now, no? It’s going to get crazy with everyone trying to get a look at Farosh.”
She’s right, she is, but the bed is so soft and she’s so warm and if Link just closes his eyes he can-
“Link,” Zelda repeats.
“You just don’t want to disappoint Kass,” he slurs. “If we wait we have to talk to him again, and you don’t want to break his heart.”
Silence.
He opens one eye. She’s still looking at him. He manages a grin.
“Shut up,” she affectionately whispers, rolling out of bed. “You know I’m right.”
“Sure,” he yawns, stretching, oof-ing when she throws a pile of clothes at his face. “So I’m guessing you’re gonna sleep the whole way there?”
“Oh, definitely,” Clothes rustle in the dark as she changes into a fresh outfit. It’s so early that the stable staff hasn’t even lit the candles, yet, and she’s nothing but a moving blob of shadow as his eyes adjust.
He laughs, getting to his feet and changing. “Good to know.”
They set off towards Central Hyrule once the first rays of sunlight start to peek through the immortal darkness of the night, the castle their final destination before they head back home to Hateno.
Zelda, slumped against Link’s back and her even breaths warming his neck, misses the perfect sunrise.
—
She wakes up when they hit Hyrule Field, yawning in Link’s ear.
“Good morning,” he greets with an answering yawn of his own.
“Morning,” she stretches behind him. “Oh, wow. We’re close!”
“I’d say in the next hour or so,” he estimates. “You weren’t saying ‘Sorry’, this time.”
“Really?”
“I only knew you were asleep because I was your pillow.”
She chuckles, gently swatting his shoulder. “I can’t help that you’re comfortable.”
The skeleton of Hyrule Castle comes into view, towering over the horizon. It hasn’t stopped being weird that the Calamity isn’t swirling around it, anymore, it hasn’t stopped feeling real.
“Are you sure you’re gonna be okay going back? The way to Hateno is right there.”
“I’m fine, I promise.”
He nods, and Horse neighs in protest when he accidentally snaps the reins one too many times.
—
Castle Town is strangely naked without the pools of malice drowning the buildings. It sounds more like the graveyard it’s supposed to be, silent and screaming for someone to care for it.
“I lived here, I think,” Link says, his voice cutting through the quiet and bouncing off of the ruins, echoing into the air. “I don’t know where, but…I remember running through the streets as a kid, pretending I was a knight with my friends and using a tree branch as my sword.”
“I remember walking the streets with you three paces behind me,” Zelda breathes. “You let some kids look at the Master Sword and you smiled at me when they didn’t know who I was. They asked if I was your…”
Is she your girlfriend, Mister Hero? A small voice echoes in his head. Is she? Is she?
“I said no,” he responds. I wished I could say yes. “You bought six bags of tea for your father.”
“And one for your mother. I wanted to…I wanted to impress her. I’ve met your mother?”
He chuckles but finds nothing funny. “I didn’t know I had one.”
—
They dismount Horse before the large metal doors that Link threw open with Magnesis months ago, in his desperate charge to the Sanctum to kill the Calamity and save Princess Zelda.
Princess Zelda, who is just Zelda, who wants to walk the rest of the way, is first through the open doors.
Link, so used to walking here with her a hundred years ago, has to take three steps forward to stand at her side.
“Well,” she sighs, squinting up at where the castle peeks out from the cliff it’s built into, “Where to from here?”
He points up the hill. “This way. I’ll show you the Dining Hall first.”
They walk.
“Why the Dining Hall?”
“It’s one of the only intact rooms. A lot of the castle, probably a lot of the rooms you’d remember stuff in, is rubble. There’s really only the Dining Hall, the Library, your room, the armory, the observation room, and the docks that are really left. And some of the hallways, to get to all of the rooms, but those are torn apart, too. Monsters lived in it the whole time, I always had to clear them out with every trip I made.”
She frowns at him. “You went to the castle multiple times?”
“I had to. For supplies and weapons, and to get the lay of the land so I knew what I was running into.”
“Did I ever talk to you?”
Link shakes his head. “Only to warn me to turn back the first time I entered. I think, because I was so close, the Calamity was fighting you harder than normal to try and free itself. You were probably too occupied holding it back.”
“I wonder,” Zelda swallows. “I wonder if the Calamity had a voice, too.”
I hope it was screaming, he prays. I hope it was afraid of us.
—
The Dining Hall.
“Wow,” Zelda trails her fingers over a table that Link broke in half slashing Boulder Breaker at a Moblin, blowing away dust. “This is…This is really big.”
“Fit for a king,” Link jokes. “Or a queen.”
“I’m not remembering anything,” she picks up a filthy plate and wrinkles her nose. “Do you have any memories here?”
“Not from Before. This was the first room I entered when I first came to the castle, so I was paying attention to every detail in the hopes that something would come to me, but nothing did.”
“Then we should move on to the next room,” she walks over to the wooden doors and pushes them open, wincing at the loud whine of them creaking on their millenia-old hinges. “Sounds like these haven’t been oiled in a hundred years.”
“I don’t think the Bokoblins were worried about castle maintenance,” he laughs. “Go to the right, then straight down the hall.”
—
The Library.
“All of these books,” Zelda gapes at the rows of ruined shelves, running over to one and examining the books that remain. “Just…gone or-or utterly destroyed.”
“I saved the ones that I could,” Link tells her. “They’re in the house, remember?”
“Yes, that’s-Oh! Come here!” she pulls a book off the shelf, holding it out to him. “Look!”
He goes over, and the cover reads, A Royal’s Guide to Sheikah Etiquette.
“The book Impa gave you after that time in the library!” she grins, cracking open the ancient spine and flipping the yellowed pages. “Oh, look at this! The ‘How To Respect The Impa’ chapter, there’s writing on it!”
She turns the book his way and points to the chapter title, where quick script reads, Memorize this, and his century-old cucco scratch has written back, As you wish, O Divine Warrior of the Goddess. Beneath his message is a drawing of an angry face.
“Here,” he opens up the Sheikah Slate and sucks the book into the inventory. “Impa will get a kick out of this the next time we go to Kakariko.”
“Yes!” she laughs. “What is it that you wanted to show me in here?”
Link leads her to the false bookshelf that hides King Rhoam’s study, pushing it open. She goes inside first, and on instinct from when Lizalfos archers used to roam, he closes it behind himself when he follows her into the small office.
“This was your father’s study,” he says, nodding to the book open on the desk. “That’s his journal. He wanted you to read it.”
Zelda sobers, stepping up to the desk and pressing her fingers to the open pages.
“‘Today,’” she reads aloud, clearing her throat, “‘as the sun rose and a new day was born, my daughter, too, joined this sweet world. In keeping with the traditions of the royal family, I have decided to name her…Zelda. I am not a man accustomed to frivolous musings, but now seems as good a time as any to begin my royal memorandum’.”
He listens to her go through the rest of the entries. The longer she reads, the more her voice wavers.
It’s the final entry that gets to her.
“‘Perhaps I should encourage her to keep researching her beloved relics,’” she finishes, tracing over her father’s century-old script. “‘They may just lead her to answers I can’t provide. For now, I sit anxiously, more a father than a king in this moment. I sit and await my daughter’s return’.”
She closes the little black booklet.
“Can…” she swallows. “Can you put that in the slate, too?”
Link opens the slate and adds the journal to the inventory without saying a word.
“I-” she stops herself. “I still can’t remember much of him, only what you’ve told me. I hope…I hope the more I read the more I’ll remember.”
“I can tell you about my time with him on the Great Plateau, if you want,” he suggests.
“Maybe…Maybe later. Where to next?”
“We have to go outside to get to your room. Are you ready to move on?”
After a long moment, she nods.
—
Zelda walks right past the Observation Room, and Link lingers only for a second to stare up at the balcony and wonder, What if.
“What is it?” Zelda asks, when she’s realized that he’s stopped.
“Nothing,” he shakes his head, continuing to walk. “Come on, this way.”
—
Her bedroom is the same way he left it.
“Your journal is there,” he points to where it lies open on her desk. “Your study is right outside, across the bridge. You have research notes, another journal, in there, too."
She flips through the diary, reading all of the entries, and stops on the last one.
“This says that I dreamt of some kind of woman in gold, the night before the Calamity struck,” she starts. “That she was speaking to me, but I couldn’t hear.”
“Yeah,” Link nods. “I think it was the Goddess.”
“I think it was me,” she turns and stares at him. “Because that’s what I dreamt of the night you said that I apologize in my sleep. Golden light and moving lips, saying words I couldn’t hear nor understand. I thought it was another language, but even though I didn’t know what she was saying I knew it was Hylian. I…I was apologizing to myself.”
And that…that’s…
That’s…
“I don’t know what that means,” he confesses.
She laughs. “I don’t, either.”
—
Her study still has the Silent Princess growing out of a pile of dirt on her desk.
“It didn’t feel right, picking it,” Link says, trailing his fingers along the spotless blue and white petals. “You grew this one yourself.”
“Are these-” Zelda squints at a Guardian Stalker diagram pinned to the wall. “Guardians? Like the dead ones on Blatchery Plain?”
“You were studying them Before, remember?”
“Yes, but…” she reaches out and touches the drawing. “I…”
She goes quiet, and doesn’t move.
Link asks, “Zelda?”
She doesn’t answer.
He touches her shoulder, repeats, “Zelda.”
It’s like she’s frozen, like she’s a statue, like she’s lost in a trance like Link was on his quest whenever he was remembering-
His eyes fix on the Guardian diagram her finger hasn’t moved from.
Oh. Oh no.
“Zelda,” he shakes her shoulder. “Zelda, come on.”
She’s finally remembering it, isn’t she? The malice, the rain, the Guardians? Him, dying in her arms?
What was it? she had asked of his scars, back in Kakariko’s bathhouse.
They’re from Before, he had avoided. From what put me in the Shrine of Resurrection.
You’re going to be just fine.
Beep beep beep beep beep-
Link…Link…Wake up, Link.
Beepbeepbeepbeepbeep-
Open your eyes.
“Zelda,” he insists, hating the way his voice trembles. Come back to me, please come back, please- “Zelda.”
She gasps like she’s been shot with an arrow, a strangled sort of scream clawing its way out of her throat as she recoils from the Guardian diagram, almost tripping over a loose brick if not for him catching her.
She shudders in his arms, her entire body shaking.
“Link,” she sobs his name, burying her face in his neck. She clings to him like she thinks he’ll disappear if she lets go. “Link-”
She says his name like an apology, like she’s begging for his forgiveness.
“I know,” he soothes, holding her close. “I know.”
“You’re dead,” she hiccups, the words almost impossible to understand through her hysterics, her chest heaving against his side, “You’re dead-”
“Here,” he whispers, grabbing her wrist and tugging her hand under his shirt, placing it on his chest where his heart pounds. “See? I’m alive. It was just a memory. It already happened. The Shrine of Resurrection brought me back, and you woke me up.”
She wheezes into his throat, gasping for breath, and Link slowly lowers them both until he’s sitting on the floor with her curled in his lap.
“You have to breathe, Zelda,” he says in her ear. “Can you do that for me?”
“I killed you,” she cries. “I killed you-”
“You saved me. If it weren’t for you I wouldn’t have been placed in the Shrine of Resurrection, and I wouldn’t have woken up. I would be dead without you.”
Zelda continues to sob and all Link can do is hold her through it, his heart beating steady and strong under the constant warmth of her palm.
“Sorry…I’m so sorry…”
—
Eventually, Zelda’s tears stop. She catches her breath.
“What do you need?” Link asks.
She takes her hand out from under her shirt and pulls her face away from his neck, staring up at him. “You’re not angry with me?”
“What would I be angry about?”
“Because I didn’t-” she swallows. “Because I didn’t know. I’ve seen your scars so many times and I never-”
“You didn’t know because I didn’t tell you. I didn’t want you to relive it.”
She ducks her head. “You really don’t blame me?”
He curls a finger under her chin and lifts her face to meet his eyes. “How could I? We did everything we could back then, and it wasn’t enough. With the Champions dead and the Divine Beasts lost to us, we were going to lose no matter what happened. Calamity Ganon was too smart, but you were better at strategizing, hiding me on the Great Plateau and putting the Master Sword back in Korok Forest. This way, at least, we had everything we needed.”
Zelda’s eyes drift to his mouth. “You’re sure?”
He nods. “I’m sure.”
She’s going to try and kiss him again. As badly as he wants her to, as badly as he needs her to, now isn’t the time. Not when she’s putting herself back together from a century spent shattering.
He distances himself from her, getting up and helping her to her feet. “Do you want to go back home?”
“Yes,” she says after a moment. He actively avoids the disappointment in her eyes. “Please.”
—
They cross Blatchery Plain.
"'A monument to faith'," she murmurs.
"What was that?" Link asks.
"That's what you called this place when I asked," she explains. "You said it was, 'A monument to faith'. What did you mean, then?"
He swallows. "I believed in your ability to unlock your power. We all did, us Champions. We knew you could do it, and when you did, here, after all of the death and destruction...it was our faith in you finally paying off. This graveyard of Guardians is a testament to that. So...I think it's a monument to you, to our faith in you."
"Like one has faith in the Goddess."
"No," he shakes his head. "You're not the Goddess, and you never tried or wanted to be. You're Zelda. All I care about is that you're Zelda."
"What if..." she falters, sniffling. "What if I'm Princess Zelda, too?"
He fixes his grip on Horse's reins, weaving them through the dead Guardians. "That doesn't change a thing. At the end of the day, you're still my Zelda."
—
Hateno is in a frenzy when they ride through the entrance gate, villagers running left and right carrying different supplies, food, and yelling orders.
"What's going on?!" Link demands of a passing villager, pulling on Horse so he doesn't step on anyone.
"There's a big storm forming by the beach!" They respond, trying not to drop a stack of buckets. "It looks like it's going to be a doozy, and we're prone to flooding with all of the farmland!"
"Link! Zelda!" Manny pushes through the crowd. "Thank the Goddess you guys are back! I'll help you put Horse away!"
"Has there never been a thunderstorm here, before?" Zelda asks as Link lets Manny take Horse's lead and guide them up the hill to the house.
"Not one like this," Manny replies. "Probably not since the Age of Burning Fields!"
"We've heard of storms popping up all over Hyrule," Link says with a frown. "Any idea why?"
"I heard it's from when the sky went red a couple months ago, right around the time you showed up with Zelda? The clouds rushed across the sky, and Prima's dad thinks it's because of that. The weather patterns are all kinds of messed up now!"
Zelda's next breath shudders. She whispers in his ear, "Link..."
"It's fine," he whispers back. Did he do this by facing the Calamity? Is Hateno going to flood because of him? “It's just rain."
They reach the house and Link leaps off the saddle, helping Zelda down. There's a pile of cloth, wooden planks, and nails in front of the door.
"You gotta board up your windows," Manny explains, motioning to the stuff as he settles Horse in the stall next to the house. "In case that tree falls or branches get loose from the wind. You don't need to worry about glass raining down on you at any time from the impact."
"And what about Horse?" Zelda questions, worry in her eyes as their steed huffs and nuzzles Manny's hand.
"He's been through the Calamity," Link assures her. "He'll be fine in a storm. Can you go inside and unpack the saddle bags while Manny and I board the windows?"
(As morbid as it sounds, he can always pay Malanya a visit.)
"Y-Yeah," Zelda hesitates before nodding, rushing into the house.
"All right, Manny," he picks up a hammer and a few nails. "Let's do it fast, I know you have to help Prima with the inn."
—
The clouds are black and the wind is howling by the time Manny leaves and Link finally goes inside the house.
Zelda is sitting at the table, scrolling through the Sheikah Slate. He unbuckles the Master Sword, sets it against the wall next to the door, and sits down across from her, catching her attention.
"Are you all right?"
"I'm fine," she answers, turning the slate off and setting it aside. "Are you?"
"I'm a little worried."
"Why?"
He motions to the covered windows. "It's never rained like this for me, and for you it's never rained at all. It...It was raining on Blatchery Plain when I...when you unlocked your powers, and the wound of it is fresh for the both of us. The rain, after I first remembered what happened there, sent me into a panic. I thought I was dying again. I don't want the same to happen to you."
She shakes her head. “It won’t.”
“How do you know that?”
Her smile is weak. “I know myself, now, what I’ve…experienced. A little thunder and lightning is nothing compared to a century of the Calamity roaring in my face.”
Right, she…
“Okay,” he reaches across the table and holds her hands. “Good. Because, being honest with you, I’m terrified.”
(She’s always been stronger than him.)
“Okay,” she squeezes his hands. “What can I do? What do you need?”
“I-” he bites his lip. His voice is small when he requests, “Can you, um…Can you hold me?”
(There’s a vague memory in the back of his head, from when he was small, of waking up from a nightmare screaming. He remembers it being cold and dark, but then warm hands were picking him up and holding him and there was a low voice in his ear rumbling, You’re all right, son. You’re going to be just fine.)
Her expression softens, and he resolutely ignores the sympathy—the something else what emotion is that she’s never looked at him like that Before—in her eyes. “Yeah. Yeah, I can do that.”
(He remembered it after he broke down in Impa’s lap after he realized that he had to have had family Before, and that they were all dead. He had laid his head in her lap and she had stroked his hair and Paya had made tea for his raw, screaming throat.)
They go upstairs, kicking off their boots, and all the while Link’s face burns with shame.
“I’m sorry,” he mumbles.
“What are you sorry for?” Zelda crawls beneath the sheets, opening her arms.
His instincts rear their head and he apologizes, “I’m supposed to protect you, not the other way around.”
“I thought we already established that we’re not officially the Hero and Princess anymore,” she pats the empty space beside her in their bed. “We’re partners, and partners take care of each other. Now come here and let me hug you. I need to at least return the favor from the castle.”
Again, Link bites his lip.
“Link.”
He takes a deep breath before joining her, letting her wrap her arms around him and hold him close. Her fingers tangle in his hair, and he drags his over the bumps of her spine.
"You didn't board the window above the bed?" she questions, quiet.
"There's nothing around that could slam into it, it's too high," he whispers. "Or, at least that's what Manny said, and I trust his judgement more. Why, do you want it boarded up?"
"No, it's fine. I want to watch the rain once it starts. I like thunderstorms.”
“You do?”
“Yes, I like them a lot. My mother would sit on a windowsill whenever it rained, listening to the thunder, inside enough that she was under the awning of the window but just barely outside so she could reach out and touch the droplets. She-” There’s a smile in Zelda’s voice. “She would hold me in her lap and tell me about the water cycle of all things, explaining to me how heat makes water boil and evaporate, and then that vapor would turn into clouds, and then it would fall back to land as rain just to do it all over again. I think it’s why I like science so much. It’s why I love the rain. It reminds me of her.”
“Do…” he closes his eyes, soothed by her touch and the rhythm of her speech. “Are there any more stories about your mother that have come back to you?”
“Yes, there are. Do you want to hear one?”
He nods, and she launches into a story about a time her mother made a fool out of a Rito ambassador.
—
Link wakes to sheets of white rain slamming against the window and a cacophony of thunder.
He looks back over his shoulder for Zelda, not feeling her arms around his waist or her warmth against his back, and bolts upright when she’s missing from the sheets, the space she usually occupies cool to the touch.
“Zelda?” he calls, almost falling out of bed in his haste to get to his feet, his voice echoing throughout the house. When he gets no response, he looks out into the first floor of the house and she’s not there either- “Zelda?”
Thunder crashes overhead and the candles hanging over the table sway, howling wind rattling the windows even through the wooden boards he nailed over them, and then-
There, just barely, on the edge of Link’s straining ears: Laughter.
He practically trips down the stairs and throws the door open.
Zelda is standing by the bridge, her arms thrown out to her sides and spread wide like she’s getting ready to hug the torrential downpour that devours her. Her head is tilted back, basking in it, and she turns in a slow circle, her shoulders shaking as she cackles into the next clap of thunder like its told her the best joke.
It’s why I love the rain.
“Zelda!” he calls, running towards her, his bare feet slipping in the mud. What is she thinking, standing out here all alone while he's sleeping- “Zelda!”
She faces him, and her smile only widens.
(She hasn’t smiled like that since before they entered the castle. What changed?)
"You snuck mushrooms into my food!" she shouts through the noise. "And when I yelled at you, you laughed in my face!”
Link stops.
You’re not a morning person, he had whispered to her months ago. You like to read. Your least favorite food is mushrooms, but I’ve snuck them into some dishes because they’re good for you. You yelled at me when you found out, but I just laughed.
He...He only told her that when she was sleeping in Paya’s bed back in Kakariko, during that first night after they defeated the Calamity. She was dead to the world, then, not even stirring when he pulled her off of Horse’s saddle and tucked her in, so it’s impossible that she would’ve heard him say that because she was-
"You like pumpkin stew!” she continues. “You think it’s silly that I had to wear my formal dress everywhere in the castle! Your favorite constellation is the Goddess’s Harp! You had a father, a mother, and a younger sister who thought the world of you!”
He staggers in her direction, stumbling to a stop in front of her. They’re so close that she could touch him, and touch him she does, grabbing his hands with both of hers. “You-”
(A sister? He had a sister?)
“Urbosa hosted a dinner in Gerudo Town,” she says, breathless. “She brought you and Revali matching outfits as a prank, and you loved wearing that sirwal. Daruk asked for a veil, and Mipha tried to take a picture. We swapped clothes for a day after Impa stole Purah’s goggles and Purah stole her hat, and you let me wear the Master Sword to sell the act so I could get out of my daily prayers. You prayed to the Goddess while I stood guard at your back, and my father was somehow none the wiser. Or he let us do it, but that doesn’t make sense with what I remember of him, so-”
“Zelda,” he whispers, his voice shaking.
She…
“Link,” hers trembles, her eyes shining.
Link…Link…Wake up, Link…
How she says his name, she…she says his name like it’s important, like he’s important, like she did when he first woke up in the Shrine of Resurrection and heeded her call to Open your eyes, like he’s everything to her-
"Link," she says his name like it’s a prayer.
"Zelda," he says hers like it’s the answer to all of his.
She grins, laughing as thunder crashes over their heads, and he takes her face between his hands, leaning his forehead against hers.
“May I ask…” he starts, his voice breaking, tears hot in the corners of his eyes and mixing with the rain, “Do you really remember me?”
Please, please say that you do.
In response, she leans up and captures his mouth with hers, one hand fisted in his shirt and the other cradling the back of his head, her fingers tangling in his soaked hair. He kisses her back with just as much fervor, his hands lowering from her cheeks to grip her hips and pull her flush against him.
She doesn’t taste like wine, her mouth instead coated in rainwater, but this time he can taste that second, other thing, the thing he struggled to describe a hundred years ago when she kissed him under the stars on the Observation Room balcony.
Home, he finally identifies, here in the middle of a hurricane outside of their house in Hateno. She tastes like home.
“Yes,” she whispers against his lips, the single word piercing through the pouring rain. She kisses him again. “Yes.”