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Chapter Text

From the very first moment she hears of his existence, she despises him.

She is thirteen years old and sitting in the dining hall of the castle beside her father, the king. A few of his advisors join him at the table that evening – an occurrence that is not uncommon, as her father is always very busy and often must schedule some of his meetings during mealtimes. This time they drone on about trade agreements with the Rito, while she stays quiet and eats her dinner.

Then the relative peace is interrupted by the door being violently swung open and slammed against the wall, the loud sound echoing all the way up to the valued ceiling. There is no announcement made by a footman, no titles or names read out to declare who their unplanned guest is. There are just the rushing footsteps of two royal knights bursting into the room, both still armored as if they have come straight from their posts.

She looks up at her father, and she can tell by his pinched eyebrows that he is about to scold them for being so unprofessional, when one of the knights speaks first.

“Your Majesty!” He is panting, out of breath, but the words force themselves out. “The sword. The legendary sword. It has been freed from its pedestal.”

She watches as all trace of annoyance is wiped from her father’s face, instead replaced with wide eyes full of shock, full of wonderment. It is one of the few times she has seen him at a loss for words. “It… H-How? And— And who?”

“It was the boy, Sire,” the knight responds, lungs still searching for breath. “Sir Arn’s boy that he’s brought with him to train. Link.”

“That little boy?” Her father’s eyebrows furrow again, this time in confusion. “Why, he is my dear Zelda’s age! He is but a child! ”

“We have no explanations for you, Your Majesty,” the other knight says, giving a deferential bow of his head. “It has come as a surprise to us all. Nevertheless, it is done. The boy is Hylia’s Chosen Hero.”

Those heavy words hang in the shocked-silent air, and she is just as confused and surprised as all the adults around her. Such news is so sudden, she doesn’t know what to think or how to react.

And then her father laughs.

It is a laugh of pure joy, of elation. And, perhaps, of relief – an uncertainty made certain. The legendary Hero has been finally found.

“Oh, praise the Goddess! I needed some good news this week,” he says. Then he stands from his chair. “Take me to him. He has returned to the castle, I presume?”

“Yes, he and his father have just returned from Korok Forest,” one of the knights say, turning to the door again. “This way, Your Majesty.”

Her father quickly follows, as do his advisors that had been sitting at the table.

But Zelda stays in her seat.

She is too in shock to move, too dumbstruck at the news.

The Chosen Hero. The one that wields the sword that seals the darkness. The hero whose soul is forever bound to that sacred blade, lifetime after lifetime.

And he is but a boy her age. Thirteen.

It occurs to Zelda then that nothing she’s done has ever caused her father to react like how he did just now. Elated.

She grips her fork, knuckles turning white. She has been training for six years now. Six years. And still, she is unable to produce the glowing light of the magic that runs dormant in her royal blood.

Useless, worthless, failure of a daughter.

Thirteen. The boy is only thirteen and he is able to waltz up to the Master Sword and pluck it from its fabled resting place, like it is nothing. Like it is so easy.

Why can’t it be that easy?

It is then, in that moment in the dining room, that she makes her decision – she hates him, and she will never have anything to do with him. Ever.

—— ▴△▴ ——

“Absolutely not! ”

“Zelda—”

“I refuse! This is— This is ridiculous! ”

“Zelda, as Calamity Ganon’s strength increases, there have been more monsters appearing all across Hyrule. With you traveling around so much, it is necessary for your safety. And you know the Yiga Clan can be hiding anywhere, even within the castle grounds—”

“I am twenty years old, Father!” Zelda shouts, her face red with fury. “I don’t need a babysitter to have me under constant supervision! And I certainly don’t need supervision from him, of all people!”

Her father sighs, collecting himself. They are in his office, with him sitting behind his desk and Zelda standing before him. He leans his elbows onto his desk and steeples his hands. “Sir Link is the most qualified person to be your appointed knight, Zelda.”

“Shouldn’t he be off training somewhere?” Zelda crosses her arms. “As the Chosen Hero of Hyrule, he should be preparing for the inevitable war that lies ahead. Standing around being my knight will just be a waste of time for him!”

“Link has been training since he was child. With the sacred sword on his back, he is more than prepared to face the war that will come.” Her father then gives her a pointed look. “Which is more than I can say for some people.”

Zelda’s mouth twists into a sneer, and her hands ball into fists that shake with barely-contained rage.

Thirteen years. She is twenty years old now, and she has been training for thirteen years. And yet, still, she has been unable to produce a hint of the magic of her bloodline.

Broken, defective, disgrace of a princess. Useless, worthless, failure of a daughter.

“And besides,” her father continues, his voice still calm and controlled, “Protecting you from Ganon’s monsters will serve as great practice for the upcoming war, if you’re so insistent he have some.”

“So I have no say in this at all?!” Zelda shouts. “You’re just— You’re just deciding this for me?! As if I can’t think for myself?!”

“I am deciding what’s best for you.”

“Father—”

“This is my final decision, Zelda,” the king says with a raised hand, silencing her. “Link will be your knight.”

She forces herself to take deep breaths, to allow her voice to sound as calm and controlled as her father’s – a voice fit for a ruler. She mostly succeeds, although there is still an obvious anger bubbling beneath her words. “At least give me some time to get used to the idea. I am still in the middle of gathering the Champions who will pilot the Divine Beasts. When I… When I am finished, then he can fulfill his new role.”

“He should accompany you as you gather the Champions. You are off to Goron City next, yes? It will be dangerous—”

“I will be fine!” Her voice raises to a shout again, but she quickly reels her anger back in. “Please, just… allow me this one last journey alone, Father. I am not a child. I am more than capable of taking care of myself. Just wait a little longer, just some time for me to get used to the idea.”

The king thinks for a moment, leaning his steepled fingers against his chin. Then he finally speaks again, formulating his words as if he is proposing a deal. “After you’ve gotten used to the idea, you will be ready to accept your knight without a single complaint when the time finally comes, yes?”

Zelda swallows back a frown from crawling onto her face. “…Yes, Father.”

“Good.” Her father has the gall to smile at her – a victorious smile, like he’s won a careful game of chess. “I will grant you some time to ruminate on the idea of having a knight. When you return, on the day of the Champions’ Ceremony, Link will be assigned to his new position. And you will not utter even one complaint.”

Zelda is silent, not even wanting to nod in affirmation.

The king stares at her expectantly. “Is that understood?”

She grimaces, and her next words are strained through clenched teeth. “Yes. Father. Understood.”

“Very well, then. You are dismissed.” The king waves his hand at her and turns his attention back to some parchment on his desk.

Zelda doesn’t need to be told twice. She storms out of the room.

—— ▴△▴ ——

A week later, on the east side of the Castle grounds, the barracks of the Royal Guard are as loud and unruly as they always are.

It is the early morning, the sun peaking just above the horizon outside, and already the guards are awake. They rise from their bunk beds and crowd themselves into the shared showering space, then they dress themselves in their various uniforms and armor according to their rank. The rooms smell strongly of dozens of men all living in a small, cramped space. They laugh and banter and tease each other as they get dressed for the day, filling the air with chatter.

Link has always been one to oversleep.

He is awakened by something hitting him in the face, followed by the sound of several soldiers laughing.

“Wake up, sleepyhead!” one of them shouts, standing beside a bed on the opposite wall, buttoning up his undershirt. This soldier has a mess of red hair combed to a spike in the front. He then looks around at the others laughing. “Man, he even sleeps in on his big day.”

“At this rate, he’ll sleep right through the battle against Calamity Ganon,” a young man with short brown hair and freckles responds, pulling a yellow tunic over his head. He wears a sly, teasing smile, but there is no malice behind it. His words are just friendly hazing.

Link knows this, and he doesn’t mind. He was raised in these barracks since he was a young boy – much younger than most people are when they become a soldier. Anyone who’s even vaguely aware of him knows about his unflinching resolve and his stoic silence, a true embodiment of a hero.

He groans quietly, sitting up on his mattress in the bottom part of a bunk bed, as he rubs the sleepiness out of his eyes.

He had been having a dream, but that is nothing new. He is always having strange dreams, many of them recurring. This time, it was the one about the fairies in the forest.

“Goddess above!” The red-haired man cries out dramatically. “Can Hyrule’s destiny really depend on such a lazy boy?”

Maybe it’s just because Link is still half-asleep, but a strong feeling of deja vu washes over him, as if he’d just heard those words recently.

Recently, or an eternity ago. In a dream, or in another life…

But that feeling of deja vu, like his dreams, is nothing new. Link is used to it.

One of his hands reaches blindly around his bedsheets for whatever object was thrown at him to jolt him awake. He finds it – a balled-up pair of socks. He throws them back at the redhead.

Even half-asleep, his aim is perfect, hitting the man square in the forehead.

The soldiers laugh again. The brown-haired one picks up the socks and shoves them into the redhead’s arms, but the red-haired one smirks and shoves them back in the brunette’s face. The brunette grimaces at the smell and backs away, causing more laughter to erupt around them.

“Oh, Pipit,” the one with red hair says, a hint of that dramatic tone seemingly ever-present in his voice. “If you can’t handle that, wait till you have a moblin slobbering up in your face.”

“Shut up, Groose,” the brown-haired one, Pipit, shoots back – but again, there is no real malice or hatred. Perhaps just some vague annoyance.

At this point, Link has risen out of bed, wearing his loose-fitting sleeping clothes. The collar of his white shirt is wide with a slit running a bit down the middle, exposing a section of his collarbone and the strong muscles of his shoulder. He runs a hand through his unkempt hair, then glances over at Pipit.

Pipit is probably his closest friend out of all of the guards. They are bunkmates after all, and he’s nicer than Groose or Cawlin or Stritch. Pipit is a year older than Link, but he joined the Guard two years after Link did – two years after Link pulled the Master Sword from its stone.

Pipit sees that Link is making eye contact with him. He gives him a friendly smile. “We’ll wait for you, Link. Go hit the showers.”

Link nods and begins walking towards the tiled room of the barrack showers, while pulling his sleep shirt over his head and throwing it onto his bed.

It doesn’t take long for him to return, walking while pulling on his various undergarments. The room is less packed with soldiers now, but his friends are still there. They are all fully dressed in each of their uniforms now, except Groose has somehow gotten a hold of Pipit’s yellow hat and has made a game out of tossing it to two of their other friends, a blond man and another dark-haired man – Stritch and Cawlin respectively. They manage to evade Pipit’s grasp, laughing and jeering, while Link silently walks over to his bedside and takes out his brand new uniform from his satchel.

He holds the fabric in his hands – a light sky blue, decoratively embroidered with white thread around the edges, so different from the old green uniform he used to wear. It is said that Princess Zelda crafted the Champions’ garments herself, but Link can’t see how that’s possibly true. The princess is far too busy studying and training to have time to do something like embroidery work.

He hears the laughter behind him transform into several ‘ooo’-ing sounds as his friends abandon their game and come over to gawk over Link’s shoulders.

“Is that your new look?” Cawlin teases, but there’s a bit of genuine awe in his voice.

“The Champion’s Tunic,” Groose says with his dramatic flair. “Y’know, I don’t think blue’s your color, Link. Perhaps this would look better on me—”

With a roll of his eyes, Link lightly pushes them away from him, giving him space to slip the tunic on over his head. After he is finally dressed in the full outfit, his friends start making more ‘oo’s and ‘oh’s.

“That’s it, there he is!” Groose calls out, holding his thumbs and pointer fingers out in a rectangular shape, framing Link, as if viewing him through a Sheikah Slate. “The Hero of Hyrule!”

“So heroic, and not gaudy at all!” Stritch says, playful sarcasm in his tone.

“And so cleverly designed!” Pipit adds with a smirk of his own. “Such an intensely bright blue will be so well camouflaged amongst the grass on the battlefield. The enemy will never spot you!”

Link’s lips quirk up into a small smile as a faint snort of a laugh leaves his nose. He waves his hand towards his friends in a fond ‘knock-it-off’ gesture. He slings his sheath that holds the Master Sword onto his back, then reaches for a hair band under his pillow.

His friends continue to talk back and forth and they start to leave the barracks, Link tying back his hair as he silently follows behind them. They cross the grassy courtyard of the soldiers’ training grounds until they reach the dining hall building. They enter, and it too is full of the noisy chatter of the Royal Guard. The inhabitants of the men’s barracks are already seated at the long wooden tables, eating their breakfast. They are joined by the soldiers from the female barracks and the gender-nonconforming barracks, filling the air with even more conversations.

After they get their breakfast, Link and his companions sit in their usual spot to eat. Link makes quick work of his large meal while his friends sit around him and continue to talk.

Soon Pipit notices that a girl at another table, dressed in a yellow uniform similar to his, is looking in the direction of their table. He gives her a tiny wave. She gives a shy wave back, then turns around to face her friends again.

“Did you all see that?!” Pipit says excitedly. “Karane was looking at me!”

“No! She was looking at me!” Cawlin pouts.

“She waved at me,” Pipit fires back, chin held high. “That’s it. I’m going to ask her if she wants to attend the Champions’ Ceremony with me.”

“Not if I ask her first!”

“Like she would agree to go with you.”

“Well, you two are free to go after small fries like Karane,” Groose says with a wistful sigh. “I’ve got my eyes on bigger fish.”

Pipit snorts. “Groose, I bet the princess would choose to leave Hyrule forever rather than spend a single day with you.”

“Because she hasn’t met me yet, genius.” Groose flicks Pipit’s forehead. “I’m sure after the two of us are able to spend some quality time together, she’ll come around. She won’t be able to get enough Groose.” He smirks and flexes his biceps.

Everyone at the table groans, including Link. He’s always irritated by Groose’s comments about Princess Zelda. She is royalty, and they are merely soldiers – swordsmen whose only purpose is to serve their kingdom.

To speak of the princess in such a way, to even think such things, is completely unacceptable.

Groose suddenly yelps in surprise as a hand lightly smacks him upside the head. An older, larger man that had been walking by now stands behind him with a disdainful look on his face. He has short brown hair and mutton chops, and wears the uniform of a superior officer.

The soldiers around the table laugh. “Thank you, Commander Eagus,” Pipit says.

Commander Eagus’s face shifts into a hearty smile. “Just doing my job to keep my soldiers in line,” he says in his deep voice. His eyes scan the table until he finds Link’s gaze. “There you are, Link. I’ve been looking for you. And I see you’re already in your new uniform. Good. When you’re finished with your breakfast, come with me. You’ve been summoned by the king.”

Link nods, unfazed. He’s been summoned to unplanned meetings by the king all the time since he was thirteen years old. Having another one doesn’t surprise him. The king probably wants to go over the preparations for the Champions’ Ceremony with him, or something of the sort.

However, Link’s friends are not like Link. They have never met the king. They’ve never even stood before him for more than a quick moment during a festival or military parade. To them, this is a big deal. They make their excited noises like they did when they saw his new tunic.

“What does His Majesty want with Link now?” Pipit asks Commander Eagus, eyes shining with curiosity.

“He is reassigning Link to a new position,” Commander Eagus states plainly.

The wide smiles around the table falter. “What?” Groose breaks the silence.

Commander Eagus laughs. “Why the sad faces? Link will still live in the barracks, he just won’t be a part of our battalion anymore. Instead of being under my command, he will be under the direct command of the king.”

Link’s friends get excited again, but Link remains unfazed. He’s expected something like this to happen. He is Hylia’s Chosen, after all.

“Is it because he’s a Champion now?” Pipit asks eagerly. “Oooo, is he captain of the Champions?”

“Their fearless leader! The Hero of Hyrule!” Groose adds dramatically, and Link can’t help rolling his eyes.

“If you must know,” Commander Eagus gives them all a blasé look, quieting their guesses, “Link has been appointed as Princess Zelda’s personal knight.”

The table falls silent.

Link’s eyes widen just a touch.

That… That is not something he expected.

Then his friends devolve into an even louder uproar than before. They cheer and shout, patting Link’s back in congratulations. He can hear Groose crying out, “Can you bring me with you?!” over the sounds of everyone’s noise.

Commander Eagus waves his hands at them. “Calm down, calm down now. Link, if you are finished with your breakfast, I will escort you to the throne room.”

Link gives a curt bow of his head, as if to say ‘yes, Commander’, and stands up from his seat. He follows Commander Eagus as they walk away from the table.

“Tell Zelda I say hi!” Groose shouts after him.

Link ignores him and keeps walking – eyes forward and posture perfectly straight, the epitome of a perfectly trained soldier.

—— ▴△▴ ——

“Ah, Commander Eagus, Sir Link.” King Rhoam is sitting on his throne, high up on its mezzanine.

Sitting on the smaller throne beside him is Zelda.

“Your Majesty, Your Highness.” Commander Eagus bows deeply after entering the throne room. At his side, Link immediately drops to one knee, keeping his head down in deference. “I have brought Link as you’ve asked.”

“At ease, soldiers.” The king’s voice echoes across the large, circular space. “Link, you may approach.”

Link returns to his feet and walks forward until he is in the center of the room. There, he stands in a perfect parade rest – his wide shoulders squared, his spine as straight as an arrow, his hands clasped behind his back. He keeps his head down.

“Has your Commander explained to you why you are here?”

Link nods once, rigid and obedient.

“Good. Then we can make this quick.” The king stands from his throne and begins to walk over to one of the curving stairways that frame the mezzanine. As he passes by his daughter, he beckons her to follow with a curling motion of his fingers. “This way, Zelda.”

Link’s gaze still faces the polished floor, but even so he can tell that Zelda seems to hesitate after the king’s words. Link doesn’t hear her footsteps follow the king’s until after a long few seconds.

After descending the stairs, the two royals stand before him.

“Link, from this point on, until I deem otherwise, you are to be the princess’s personal knight and protector,” the king decrees. “You are to accompany her while she is both on and off castle grounds, and you are to protect her from any and all dangers that may cross her path. The only exception to this is at night when Zelda returns to her room, and two night guards will take over your shift. Then at dawn, instead of reporting to Commander Eagus, you will return to Zelda’s side. Is this understood?”

Link bows his head deeply. His parade rest is still in perfect form – a perfect, obedient soldier.

To be chosen to protect the princess is a great honor. It is Link’s role to serve. He will do as he is commanded.

“Then it is done,” the king declares. “You start now. You will accompany Zelda throughout the day and while at the Champions’ Ceremony this evening.” The king walks forward towards the front door of the throne room. His billowing cloak licks at Link’s ankles as he passes. “Eagus, follow me. I would like to discuss the recent ambush at Carok Bridge.”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” Link hears Commander Eagus say behind him.

He hears their voices and footsteps fade and soon it is only he and the princess in the throne room.

Link waits for any further orders, or any other comment at all from the princess, but he is met with only silence. He keeps his head down.

He does not see the princess’s nose wrinkled with detestation.

Then, footsteps again, and the princess’s shoes and the hem of her elegant dress leave Link’s peripheral vision, walking away.

The king has given him instructions. He will obey. He swiftly follows her, keeping alert, on guard.

He hears the princess sigh. She quickens her pace.

Link continues to follow her diligently. He would follow her anywhere.

They walk in tense silence through the castle until the princess reaches her study. She enters, then he does. He closes the door behind him, planning to stand guard at the exit while the princess does her work. But before he can settle into parade rest again, the princess steps closer to him.

Link lets out a startled sound as she leans into his personal space, practically pinning him against the door. Her finger is raised sharply, as if she is about to scold him. Her mouth is scowling, curling her lips in anger.

So close like this, Link can’t help but raise his head up to meet her eyes.

There is an old rule in the soldier’s protocol that states it is forbidden to look royalty in the eyes without being given permission. The rule is never enforced, as Hyrule’s king is kind to his army – but Link likes to obey it anyway. He has always held himself to a higher standard when it came to such things, as he is Hylia’s Chosen.

This very well may be the first time Link has ever looked Zelda in the eyes. 

“I did not want this,” the princess says. She keeps her voice level, not shouting, but her burning anger is obvious beneath her stern tone. “You are only here because my father still thinks of me as a child, and he is using his power as king to take away my right to agency as a grown woman. So let me make it clear to you that this was not my choice.”

Link stares at her, taking in her harsh words. Her face is a mere few inches from his own, his back pressed against the door. He’s not much taller than her, only by an inch or so. He’s never noticed that before. Every time Link has met with the king, Zelda has either not been there or she’d quickly leave the room. Link has never been in the princess’s vicinity for this long in his entire life—

Let alone been this close to her.

“Yet I understand that you cannot disobey my father,” Zelda continues, her words still sharp and clipped. “So if you must be here, you are going to be here according to my terms. You are not to bother me, especially while I am working. You are not to pass even a hint of judgment towards me. And you are to obey my orders to the very best of your ability. Is that understood?”

Is that understood? Of course it is. Those statements are obvious. Link’s eyebrows furrow, confused. He doesn’t know why the princess is telling him this. He has sworn to serve her. Every enemy he defeats, he will do it in her name. He would die for her.

He then realizes how unprofessional he is currently carrying himself. He quickly wipes the shocked expression off his face, settling his lips back into a neutral line. He squares his shoulders and corrects his posture – as much as while pinned like this.

He nods.

“Good,” the princess says, yet still seems unsatisfied. She doesn’t move from her position in front of him. Her eyes flick around his face, searching for… something. A reaction perhaps, Link thinks. She is testing him.

He will show her that he is a good soldier.

However, this doesn’t seem to be what the princess wants. Her eyebrow twitches in annoyance. Then her gaze looks past him, focusing on the hilt of the Master Sword on his back, and that annoyance turns to rage.

“I bet you’re happy, aren’t you?” she sneers at him. “This is the highest knight position you could’ve gotten, other than guarding the king himself. I bet you think this is exactly the kind of high rank you deserve. You think you’re all that, don’t you? Hm? Hero of Hyrule?”

Link does not understand. He would never think of himself in such an arrogant, egotistical manner. In his mind, being Hylia’s Chosen Hero makes him even more of a humble servant to his kingdom than any other soldier in the army.

It is his destiny to serve Hyrule, his destiny to defend it with his life. That fact is weaved into the very fabric of his soul.

With his brows furrowed again, he shakes his head, hoping that is enough to convince the princess.

She takes a deep breath, nostrils flaring. After a moment, she turns on her heel and strides over to her desk.

“At least I don’t have to worry about you talking too much,” she mutters under her breath as she sits down.

Then the room is filled with silence – no sound other than the scratching of the princess’s quill against the page of her research journal.

Link corrects his posture again now that he’s not pinned. He stands tall and clasps his hands behind his back, standing guard – a good soldier.

—— ▴△▴ ——

Later that day, Link stays with Zelda for almost the entirety of the Champion’s Ceremony. He flanks her right side, following just a couple steps behind her as she walks around the throne room, speaking to the various Hylian nobles that approach her. Many of the nobles comment on Link, or ask her about him, but she always waves their words off, content to pretend that he does not exist.

Link doesn’t mind. He isn’t here to listen to the conversations of noblemen. He tunes them out, keeping his head high and alert to any potential dangers.

The only time Link is not by Zelda’s side is during the main event – His Majesty’s speech, where the Champions stand before the king and are officially proclaimed as Champions. But even then, Link stays alert, and Zelda does not leave his sight.

There are four other Champions besides him. They will be the ones to pilot the four Divine Beasts. There is Revali from Rito Village, Daruk from Goron City, Mipha from Zora’s Domain, and Urbosa from Gerudo Town. Link has met them all before – and has known some for longer than others – but he has great respect for all of them. He knows they are all talented warriors.

Daruk is the one to suggest that Link should have his own ceremony – to “celebrate the little guy becoming the princess’s personal knight”. The king finds it to be an excellent idea, and schedules a Knighting Ceremony for the following day before Zelda, or even Link, can interject.

Link looks at the princess. It is obvious she is not happy.

Nevertheless, they proceed with the Knighting Ceremony the next day. It is a small, private event – because if it must happen, Zelda is going to make sure she doesn’t have to listen to any egotistic noblemen during it – taking place outside, at the Sacred Grounds.

Zelda’s voice is completely disinterested as she says her speech.

“…Whether skyward bound, adrift in time, or steeped in the glowing embers of twilight, the sacred blade is forever bound to the soul of the Hero…”

Link makes sure he plays his part correctly, kneeling before her, his head bowed.

With his eyes down like this, he can’t help but look at the carvings etched into the stone platform he kneels on. There, right below him, is a depiction of that ancient triangular symbol – the so-called Triforce. What it is, Link does not know, as its meaning has been lost to time.

That deja vu feeling washes over him for a moment—

And then it’s gone just as quickly as it came.

—— ▴△▴ ——

She hates him. She hates him.

Or moreso, she hates the idea of him – the idea that she is incapable of defending herself. The idea that she needs to be watched for every minute of every day, under constant supervision. The idea that despite being a fully-grown adult – despite being the princess, for Hylia’s sake – she still has such little agency over her own life, and her father is able to just decide to impose this man into her everyday routine.

Link. Link. He is always there, always silent. Sometimes it is hard for Zelda to remember that he is his own person, with his own thoughts and feelings. He feels more like a representation of all that she hates – her failures, her weakness, the way she is viewed by her father. Powerless. Perhaps that’s why she finds it so easy to let her anger out on him. As just a silent figure, he is more symbol than person.

He pulled the Master Sword from its stone when he was just 13 years old. He has already achieved his destiny – to be the Chosen Hero, wielder of the sword that seals the darkness. He is the most talented warrior in Hyrule’s army, and he now holds the high rank of personal guard to the princess herself.

And yet… Not one arrogant smile. Not one annoying glance or cocky wiggle of his eyebrows at her.

Instead, she gets… nothing. Link is stone-faced and unreadable. He is sometimes nothing more than a statue in her study room, standing by the door with his perfect soldier’s posture.

She doesn’t understand.

A week after the Knighting Ceremony, she gets word that some adjustments must be made on Divine Beast Vah Rudania. She decides to leave for Goron City straight away.

Which, of course, means he must come with her.

Usually while traveling, Zelda likes to walk ahead of the royal caravan full of supplies. That way, instead of sitting down for hours on end in a cramped carriage, she can observe the beautiful nature around her and maybe even record some data in her research journal, at least until her feet get tired.

With Link, these wonderful walks alone are ruined. He is always there behind her, staring at her, babysitting her. She finds herself growing anxious and weary.

Well, at least she has found one silver lining: When Zelda looks over her research notes, she tends to talk to herself out loud about them in order to make sense of them. Now, with Link always here, she takes a sort of spiteful joy in forcing him to listen to her ramblings about the shrines and the Divine Beasts – which he no doubt must find nonsensical and boring. If he must be here, then he can be just as annoyed with her and she is with him.

“…Because you see, Sheikah technology uses an entropic power system, meaning it’s only able to function after being charged by the energy created by fast freely-moving particles. This is why Purah and Robbie’s labs are powered by blue flames, because such a hot fire increases entropy in the gas particles in the labs’ charging chambers. However, things like the Divine Beasts or the Sheikah Slate are much older pieces of tech, and while they still use this entropy-based power system, they’re charged by a strange highly-entropic liquid which we do not yet know the origins of…”

She keeps turning around to look at him, hoping to catch him rolling his eyes or looking irritated – to see any kind of reaction at all.

But she gets nothing. What did she expect?

What is going on inside his mind?

He is probably annoyed, Zelda decides, even if he isn’t showing it. Only tech nerds like Purah and Robbie would enjoy listening to her ramble like this. Everyone else – the Hylian nobles, her father – they all hate it.

They keep walking, Zelda following the map on her Sheikah Slate. She continues to tell Link about the Divine Beasts. As she keeps glancing back to look at him, her gaze keeps falling on that damned sword, the sunlight glinting off the golden gilding of its sheath.

Hero of Hyrule. Chosen by the Goddess Hylia herself. Wielder of the legendary Master Sword.

Broken, defective, disgrace of a princess. Useless, worthless, failure of a daughter.

That’s when the topic of her ramblings switches from ancient technology to ancient history.

She knows quite a bit about that damned sword.

“Legend says that an ancient voice resonates inside it,” she tells him. “Can you hear it yet… hero?”

She asks the question as if to taunt him. He may have pulled that sword from its pedestal, he may be the strongest warrior in her army, but can he achieve feats that the previous incarnations of his soul once achieved? Will he ever be as strong, as skillful, as courageous as the legends say they were?

Link gives her no reaction.

She bites the inside of her cheek to stop herself from frowning.

What did she expect?

That night, when they arrive at the royal family’s estate within Goron City, Link finally leaves as the night shift guards come to replace him. They take their place outside Zelda’s bedroom door.

Before she sleeps, she writes in her diary:

“I never know what he’s thinking! It makes my imagination run wild, guessing at what he is thinking but will not say.

What does the boy chosen by the sword that seals the darkness think of me? Will I ever truly know? Then, I suppose it’s simple. A daughter of Hyrule’s royal family yet unable to use sealing magic…

He must despise me.”

—— ▴△▴ ——

“You went to Goron City.”

They have not even been back at Hyrule Castle for an entire minute, and Zelda is already confronted by her father, in the hallway. He couldn’t even wait until they entered the throne room.

Of course, Link is behind her.

“Vah Rudania needed some adjustments in order for Daruk to be able to handle her properly,” she responds – keeping her head high, standing her ground. “As soon as I heard this news, I made arrangements to leave as promptly as I could.”

Her father’s fingers curled in frustration. “And you didn’t think to notify me of these arrangements?”

“I don’t see why I would need to,” Zelda shoots back. “I have the right to go where I please, and I knew one of the servants or guards would be perfectly capable of telling you that I had left. And besides, now that you’ve assigned me my own personal guard dog, it’s perfectly safe for me to travel, isn’t that right father?”

“Is that what this is?” The king takes a step closer to her, his tall frame looming over her. “You are still angry at me for merely trying to keep you safe, so you don’t tell me when you leave on a three-day expedition? ”

“Why does it matter?! It’s not like I need your permission!” Zelda can’t help but raise her voice, losing control of her royal demeanor. She doesn’t care if she sounds petulant. She feels as if she has no choice, as if she’s being backed into a corner. “Or is that what you want? You want me to not be able to choose anything about my own life! I can’t have a moment alone anymore, and now I can’t even decide what to do with my time?!”

“Purah could have gone to make the adjustments for Vah Rudania.”

“Purah is much too busy helping Robbie gain control of the guardians. I was perfectly capable and available to go to Goron City, so I did! I don’t see why you have such an issue with that”

“You should’ve stayed here.”

“It is my duty as princess to protect my kingdom against the Calamity by helping with these Divine Beasts—”

“It is your duty as princess to unlock your magical abilities!”

Her father snaps at her. The king rarely yells, almost always keeping his voice calm and controlled – a voice fit for a ruler.

But now, he is fuming.

Zelda takes a step back, aghast.

“You are your mother’s daughter!” The king’s words can be heard echoing down the hallway. “The inheritor of her abilities! You are not a Sheikah engineer, you are not a royal scientist! You are the princess! If you really want to protect the kingdom against the Calamity, you will spend every moment you can training to unlock your powers, and you will stop wasting your time playing at being a scholar!”

Zelda feels her eyes sting, but she keeps her head held high. “I am not playing—”

“You are fooling around and distracting yourself with matters that do not involve you, Zelda,” the king lowers his tone to something icily cold. His eyes are devoid of any sympathy. “I’m tired of this behavior from you. If you continue to lose sight of your true goals, I will have to take more drastic actions.”

“Father, you can’t—”

“I can! You seem to forget that my word is law here, and that you are no exception to it!”

“But I—”

“I am done discussing this matter.” The king walks past her down the hall. She hears him speak again once he is behind her. “Link, escort the princess to her room. Make sure she stays there and prays to the Goddess for the rest of the day.”

Link.

Link was behind her this whole time. He heard every angry word, saw every disappointed glare.

She can sense his eyes staring at her back, can practically feel the judgment radiating off of him.

He must despise me. He must despise me. He must despise me.

Broken, defective, disgrace of a princess.

“Later, after your shift,” her father continues to address Link, “Report back to me. I’ll want to know if she’s actually done what I’ve asked.” His footsteps fade away down the hallway.

Zelda feels tears run down her cheeks.

She runs.

She can’t stand to have those eyes leering at her. She wants to be alone. She wants to be left alone for once.

‘Escort’ her. She doesn’t need a chaperon to bring her to her damn room.

She slams the door, collapses onto her bed, and lets her cries break free from her throat.

She hates how childish she feels. She just wants to use the skills that she actually knows how to use – not the skill she has failed at time after time, year after year for thirteen damned years. She would be a better princess if everyone just forgot about her stupid magical gift, which she clearly did not inherit.

There is a knock on her door.

Her mouth twists into a sneer, because she knows exactly who it is. “What do you want?” she shouts at her door. “Oh, by all means, come inside! We can’t have you disobeying my father’s orders, now can we?”

After a long moment of hesitation, the door creaks open, and Link enters.

He keeps his head down, gaze away from her – no doubt to hide his disgusted look on his face. 

He must despise me. He must despise me. He must despise me—

“Princess?”

Zelda’s head whips around to face him, eyes wide.

He…

He spoke.

She is so shocked that her crying stops dead in its tracks.

“May I…” Link’s gaze doesn’t move from the floor. “May I speak freely?”

Speak freely? It is a marvel that he is even speaking at all. His voice is low and tenor-toned, and so much softer than she was expecting. It is composed and well-mannered, with the slight accent of Hateno Village in the east.

There is no disgust, no disdain.

When she finally breaks free of her shock, Zelda responds, “Y-Yes, of course. You may.”

Link does not speak again right away. He stands in his usual parade rest, hands behind his back. With his eyes looking down like this, he almost looks… shy. His eyebrows are pinched inward, clearly thinking over his next words. Zelda watches him like she is observing a piece of strange technology – the statue in her room has come to life.

“I think His Majesty is wrong,” Link finally says.

Zelda’s eyes go wide. For a soldier to say such a thing about the king, even if that soldier has the privilege of being Hylia’s Chosen—

“I don’t think you are playing at being a scholar,” he continues. His tone is steady, yet firm. It sounds so definitive and genuine, as if it is incapable of speaking anything but the truth. “You spoke of your research as we traveled to Goron City. You are clearly very knowledgeable. I think it is… very admirable. I do not think it is a waste of time. And I know it will help against the Calamity.”

Zelda stares at him, stunned. Her mind is so busy processing the fact that Link is speaking to her that she is barely able to process the actual meaning of the words he is saying.

But when she finally does, she realizes his words are… kind.

She is confused as to why.

“…Thank you,” she says when she regains her senses again.

Link nods his head in a deep bow, and then silence fills the room.

…An uncomfortable, tense silence. Zelda does not know what else to say, and she realizes that Link does not know either, so they both are just there, awkwardly—

“I will let you have your privacy.” Link finally says, rather suddenly and quickly. He puts his hand on the doorknob. “If you need me, I’ll… I’ll be right outside.”

He steps out of the room. But before he closes the door, he peeks his head in again.

“When His Majesty asks me later… I will let him know that you prayed for the rest of the day.”

Then the door shuts, and that soft-spoken voice is silenced once again.

Again, Zelda slowly processes his words.

He is disobeying the king, she realizes. He isn’t watching me. He is going to tell my father I obeyed him, no matter what I do.

She doesn’t understand. Why is he doing this?

After everything I’ve done to him, why is he still kind to me?

Despite her confusion, she quickly wipes the drying tears from her cheeks and stands up from her bed.

She finally has the moment alone that she wanted, and she is going to take full advantage of it.

Chapter Text

“Come on, Link! What is she like? Is her hair just as soft and smooth as it looks? Is her face just as cute up close as it is from far away? Does she smell good? Does she—”

“Groose, can you knock it off?” Pipit shoots him a tired look. “Link has made it clear that he isn’t going to answer your stupid questions.”

They are in the Royal Guard’s barracks. Now that Link is Zelda’s knight, he only ever gets to spend time with his friends when they’re all waking up in the morning, or when they’re getting ready for bed.

Right now, it’s the latter, and the sky is dark outside with bright masses of stars swirling throughout it.

“No one asked you, Pipit!” Groose scowls petulantly, pulling on his pajama shirt. “Link’s been doing this whole knight-of-the-princess thing for two weeks and we still don’t know a thing about it! Don’t try to tell me you’re not curious, too.”

“Of course I’m curious,” Pipit says matter-of-factly. He is sitting beside Link on the bottom bunk of their shared bunk bed. They’re both already dressed in their sleep clothes. “But Link doesn’t have to tell us anything he doesn’t want to. He has the right to keep his thoughts to himself.”

“I am tired of Link always keeping his thoughts to himself, especially now that those thoughts may be about my sweet Princess Zelda!”

“Groose, stop being annoying. Just go to bed already.”

Link gives Pipit a grateful look, his eyes crinkling as he smiles and bows his head a little.

“Pshhh, whatever.” Groose eventually concedes and climbs into the top bunk of the bed across from Link’s.

Pipit smiles back at Link. “Finally, he’s finished. Guess I’ll turn in for the night, too. Goodnight, Link.” He starts climbing up into the top bunk.

Link gives him a nod – his way of saying goodnight back – then lies down on his mattress, pulling the covers over him.

“Although,” Pipit’s voice returns in a whisper, his freckled face popping out over the edge of the top bunk, “if I can, I want to ask one thing. You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to. I’ve just been wondering, is the princess… doing okay? I’ve heard all the rumors that come through here, about how the king pushes her too hard and such. And sometimes, at events when we’re able to see her, she just looks so… sad. Defeated. I just hope she’s alright. Is she?”

Link hesitates for a long moment. He knows he doesn’t have to answer, but Pipit is his best friend here in the Royal Guard. Pipit is always kind to him and defends him when Groose’s comments go too far. He wants to answer for him.

But then again, he doesn’t even know how he would answer the question.

He decides his best choice is to just nod.

“Yes?” Pipit confirms, still whispering. “Oh, good. Good. Maybe she doesn’t look sad, just tired, y’know? I’m sure she’s exhausted with all the work that she does.”

Link nods more firmly at that – that, he knows, is true.

“Alright. Good.” Pipit then shifts back onto his mattress, no longer gazing off the side. “Goodnight then.”

Link doesn’t say goodnight back. He would nod, but Pipit can’t see him.

He closes his eyes.

—— ▴△▴ ——

He is on an island. A floating island in the sky.

Pipit is wearing his usual yellow uniform, and Link is wearing his usual green one.

Although, that’s… that’s not right. Something is off. Link can’t quite place it—

“I’m glad your Loftwing has calmed down now,” Pipit says to him as they walk across the stone-brick bridge that connects one floating chunk of land with the other. The sky is clear and blue above them, while thick clouds rest like an endless blanket beneath them. “Of course Groose was the one that scared it. I swear, he’s such a bully sometimes. Headmaster Gaepora should really do something about him. Who knows what he’ll do next.”

Link nods, trying to make sense of the confusing feeling in his head.

Things are, for the most part, normal. He and Pipit have just finished buying some items from the Bazaar, and are now going to the Sparring Hall. There they will join the rest of the students of the Knight Academy, and Commander Eagus will give them their afternoon combat lesson. Perfectly normal.

Yet something feels off.

“Hey, speaking of the headmaster,” Pipit grins and lightly elbows Link in the ribs. “A little bird told me that someone was flying around with the headmaster’s daughter yesterday evening. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you loverboy?”

Link laughs, shaking his head. He pushes Pipit lightheartedly – now that they’re off the bridge, there is no risk of falling off Skyloft.

“No? You don’t know anything about that?” Pipit teases. “You and Zelda haven’t been flying off on your Loftwings into the sunset together? Maybe you even had a date at the Lumpy Pumpkin.”

Link laughs again, loud and bright from his chest. It’s a good idea, honestly. He should bring Zelda on a date there. It’s far enough away from Skyloft that the chance of running into his fellow classmates would be slim. Maybe tomorrow, after classes are finished…

After… classes…?

Wait just a moment. What classes—

“Link! There you are!”

He’d recognize that voice anywhere. Across words, across ages, across lifetimes – he will always recognize that voice.

Zelda runs up to him and Pipit, wearing her usual pink dress and colorful ribbons in her blonde hair. She smiles just as cheerfully as she always does.

“Hello Zelda!” Pipit greets her casually. “We were just headed off to sparring practice.”

“I won’t keep you long then.” Her eyes shift over to face Link. “I just wanted to know if your Loftwing is alright.”

Link feels a little dazed, but he nods anyway.

“Oh good!” She beams. Then an angry look crosses her face. “That Groose! He’s always been like this! I remember even when we were kids, he would be so mean to you for no reason!”

Link just stares dumbly.

When they were kids?

Right, when they were all kids, raised in Skyloft. Zelda’s been his best friend for his whole life. He’s had feelings for her for a long time too, but he’s only just recently started trying to take their relationship to the next level. If only he didn’t clam up around her every time he tried to ask her out.

Link’s body jolts, surprised at himself. How dare he think such things about the princess?

…The princess?

There are no princesses in Skyloft.

“Link?” Zelda giggles and waves her hand in front of his face. “Your Loftwing may be alright, but it looks like you’re the one who’s shaken up now.”

“Yeah, you better not freeze up like this at the Wing Ceremony, Link,” Pipit adds.

“Oh, hush. Link doesn’t have to worry about the Wing Ceremony for another few months.”

“Could’ve fooled me, with how much Mr. Horwell keeps mentioning it every five minutes.”

“Seriously Link.” Zelda’s face starts to look concerned. “Are you alright?”

She is being so kind to me, he can’t help but think. And she is so beautiful with ribbons in her hair. He snaps out of his thoughts. He gives Zelda a quick, awkward nod.

She eyes him suspiciously. “Okay then. If you say so.” Then her bright smile breaks onto her face again. “I’ll see you later then! We’re still meeting at sunset, right?”

Link nods. Yes, meeting at sunset, to go fly around the sky in their Loftwings. Flying over the clouds…

Falling through the clouds…

Falling… falling… the feeling of the wind through his fingers is so familiar, yet so foreign, as if he has already experienced it and has not yet experienced it at the same time – as if the feeling is from both the past and the future.

“Link!” Commander Eagus calls to them, standing in the Sparring Hall’s open doorway. “Link!”

“Guess we better go,” Pipit says. He starts walking toward the Sparring Hall. “See you around, Zelda!”

“Bye!” Zelda waves.

Link’s legs follow Pipit numbly. He feels like he is outside of his body.

“Link!” Commander Eagus shouts again. “Link! Wake up!”

What?

Falling, he is falling—

“Wake up, Link!” says Commander Eagus’s voice. “Wake up!”

—— ▴△▴ ——

Link shoots up in his bed, almost bumping his head on the bunk above him.

“There you go, soldier,” Commander Eagus says, then lets out a relieved exhale. He is kneeling at his bedside, in the Royal Guard’s barracks. In Hyrule. On land, not in the sky. “Looks like you had another intense dream there. You were shivering all over.”

Link feels like he’s floating, caught between here and the dream – as if his mind was still back there on that island in the sky, and yet simultaneously it is here in Hyrule.

His friends crowd him, but Commander Eagus shoos them back, quietly murmuring “Give him some space, boys.” Pipit is there, and Groose – but Groose is not his friend. Groose is so mean to him for no reason. He’s always bothering him and his Loftwing.

Except… no. No, he isn’t. Sure, sometimes Groose can be annoying, but he’s never outright mean to Link. And he doesn’t bother his Loftwing.

…What’s a Loftwing?

The sound of metal thunking against the edge of his bed brings him back into the present.

“Here Link.” Pipit is there. He is already fully dressed in his uniform – his usual yellow uniform. He’s holding out his canteen. “Have some. You need it.”

Link nods and takes the canteen, his hands slightly shaking. He raises it to his lips and drinks. The cold rush of water spreads across his mouth, the strong sensation grounding him. He feels more awake now.

“You look really shaken up,” Pipit says, frowning. “Was this dream weirder than usual or something?”

Link lowers the canteen.

It was the longest of this kind of dream that I’ve ever had, he wants to say. It was the most coherent, the most real of any dream I’ve ever had, even more than the others that have given me this nostalgic feeling before. It felt less like a dream and more like a memory. A memory of something long ago.

But no, Link will remain silent. This is what it means to have the soul of Hylia’s Chosen Hero. These confusing, disorientating dreams that make him feel lost and dizzy are his to live with – his alone. He will not allow anyone else to feel this burden but himself. That is what it means to be the Chosen One.

Instead, he just nods. 

We were friends there, too, he wants to tell Pipit. You and me. We did simple things like go to school and hang out at taverns. There was no war on the horizon – not that we knew of, at least. I think I laughed more in that one dream than I’ve laughed in this entire month. I laughed light and innocent as if I was still a child. I did not carry the sacred sword. The princess was not a princess. She smiled so much. So much. I’ve never seen her smile that much in my entire life. She spoke to me as if we were friends, as if we’d known each other since childhood. We flew on giant birds together into the sunset. I was going to ask her on a date.

He scowls, forcing the thoughts away.

Shameful. Disgraceful. Reprehensible. To think such things about the princess is completely unacceptable.

Princess Zelda is royalty, and he is merely a knight. He only exists to serve her and the kingdom – to obey orders, to be a good soldier.

His heart aches in his chest – an immense, otherworldly ache that feels like it stretches from his dreamworld into his real world. The emotion is almost like physical pain, as if he’s been injured on the battlefield. He groans.

“Link, are you alright?” Pipit quickly asks, reaching a hand towards him.

Link pushes it away, shaking his head. He swings his legs over the side of the bed and stands, surprisingly keeping his balance and not swaying on his feet. He gestures towards the showers and starts walking over there.

“Right. Good idea.” The concern slightly lifts from Pipit’s expression. “That’ll wake you up for sure. See you tonight, Link!”

Link waves back at him, then steps into the showers.

—— ▴△▴ ——

Link is late.

Oh joy, oh joyous day. Link is late.

Link has never been late to meet Zelda in the morning, ready to follow her around like a dog. He is always early, always prepared. The perfect soldier.

But today Link isn’t there when Zelda opens the door and leaves her bedroom.

And she is taking full advantage of this.

The night shift guards are still there, waiting to switch positions with Link. She tells them that she’s asked Link to meet her in the courtyard that morning, so she’ll be on her way there now. Then she hurries down the hall before anyone can stop her.

She runs, practically giggling to herself in her excitement. It’s childish and immature, she knows. She’s acting like a teenager skipping school. But she doesn’t care. She will have this day of freedom, damn the consequences.

She goes down to the stables and jumps on her horse. Before the stablehand can say anything, she’s already off to the newly-discovered shrine location that she’s wanted to investigate for ages.

The thrilling feeling is short-lived.

She’s been at the shrine for not half an hour – maybe even only twenty minutes – when she hears the sound of approaching horse hoofs. She frowns before she even sees his face.

“I thought I made it clear that I am not in need of an escort,” she strides over to Link as soon as he’s off his horse, annoyance clear on her face.

Link just stares back at her with his usual unreadable eyes.

She huffs a breath, putting her hands on her hips. “It seems I’m the only one with a mind of my own. I, the person in question, am fine, regardless of the king’s orders.”

She walks past him, hoping to brush him off – even though she knows it won’t work.

“Return to the castle, and tell that to my father, please.”

Unsurprisingly, Link does not listen to her orders. Even though she is giving him a direct command, she knows that the commands of the king overrule hers. There is nothing she can do.

She hears his footsteps behind her get closer.

She tells him to stop following her, but again, he doesn’t listen. She hears the grass under his boots behind her as she walks away. Just the sound of it bothers her, feeling overly loud in her ears when just moments ago she was able to have peace and quiet by herself.

The annoyance prickles up her spine, percolating into anger.

“So today you cannot disobey him?!” She raises her voice, turning around to look Link in the eyes. She steps closer to him, getting in his face. “Just a few days ago, you were content to wait outside my room when my father explicitly ordered you to watch over me to make sure I prayed! You lied to my father in my favor! But today, his orders reign supreme over mine again? Why can’t you just do as I ask?!”

Link just stands there – a startled look on his face, but other than that his parade rest is perfect, with his hands laced behind his back. He is taller than her only by an inch or two and Zelda curses that slight height advantage. She wants to tower over him, make him cower back in fear of her, scare him away for good so he never bothers her again.

But alas, the soul Hylia’s Chosen is said to be known for its overwhelming courage.

She can’t stand his calm silence – his no doubt judgemental silence.

“Answer me!” Her nose wrinkles and her teeth gnash like a wolf’s. “Now that I know you are capable of speaking, answer me! Why won’t you disobey the king’s orders now?!”

The air is quiet, save for Zelda’s heavy breaths – her snarling fury still audible in each exhale. Link stares back at her. The startled look he once wore has left and been replaced by his usual stoic, serious expression. His steely blue eyes stare into hers with so much determination, so much purpose that it is almost frightening.

It is almost admirable, almost handsome in a way—

Zelda firmly refuses to continue down that line of thinking.

She is about to burst into anger again when finally, he obeys her orders.

He speaks.

“That day, I thought your father was being unfair to you, Your Highness.” His voice is just as low and soft as it was before. “But as for today, I do agree with him when it comes to accompanying you outside the castle. It is dangerous out here, and I am sworn to protect you.”

“I am perfectly capable of protecting myself.”

“I know, but—” He falters for a moment. “Forgive me, Princess, but things are different now that the Calamity’s strength grows. Monsters swarm in greater numbers and are stronger than they used to be. It is an unnecessary risk for you to be out here alone.”

Zelda opens her mouth to respond, but then closes it again. She doesn’t quite know what to say. She knows she is no soldier. She is reasonably skilled in self-defense as any member of royalty should be, but she’ll admit she’s never had the chance to fight one of Calamity Ganon’s monsters. She’s been able to avoid them when she sees them so far. What’s wrong with her continuing to avoid them?

It is an unnecessary risk.

Link can’t be right. She refuses to acknowledge such a thing.

“A-And Princess,” Link speaks up again. He almost sounds nervous. “While— Forgive me, while I know you can defend yourself, that doesn’t mean you should have to. I will gladly protect you. It is my purpose as your knight.”

The words warm her heart against her will. The words, spoken in that gentle, yet strong-willed voice – plus his steadfast, determined eyes – make a rosy blush rise to Zelda’s cheeks. Link seems so… so willing to help her, to give himself over to her.

She doesn’t deserve it.

Useless, worthless, failure of a daughter.

She doesn’t deserve it, especially not after how unkindly she’s treated him.

It must be fake, she decides. Yes – such intense loyalty, such pure devotion to her is surely fake. Link’s words must be nothing more than something he’s trained to say as her knight. Yes, something to give the effect of blind admiration for his precious princess. Cruel of her father to force Link to say such things, but she doesn’t put it past him.

No, that overwhelmingly sincere look in Link’s eyes – it must be fake. Manufactured.

He despises me. He despises me. He despises me.

“Sure. Right.” Her voice drips with sarcasm. If Link is going to recite forced loyalty to her, then she’s not going to dignify him with a serious response.

Link’s brows pinch together, an expression of confusion so honest-looking that it’s almost naive.

“I am done discussing this.” Zelda hates how she sounds just like her father.

She walks back over to the shrine to continue researching as if nothing has happened, as if Link isn’t watching over her. Link just stands awkwardly for a moment, letting her walk ahead of him, then continues to follow her from a distance.

At least he’s giving her some space.

Vaguely, she wonders why he was late this morning, and dared to give her false hope that he wouldn’t show up at all. But she doesn’t bother asking.

The rest of the day goes by rather uneventfully. She researches, she prays to the Goddess, she speaks with Impa, she avoids her father – the usual. As the events of that morning become just a memory, the more she looks back on it with regret.

She hates how she cannot control her temper. Her lack of control over her life makes her feel like a child, which is in turn making her lash out like a child. She wishes she had enough space to breathe so that she was able to think through her feelings and handle them more maturely.

Yet still, she can’t help but think that if she just didn’t have a damn knight supervising her in the first place, most of her problems would be solved.

It is an unnecessary risk.

She pushes Link’s words out of her mind. She doesn’t want him to be right. She is just fine on her own.

That night, she writes another entry in her diary:

“I said something awful to him today. My research was going nowhere, I was feeling depressed, and I had told him repeatedly not to accompany me. But he did anyway, as he always does, and so I yelled at him without restraint.

He seemed confused by my anger. I feel terribly guilty… and that guilt only makes me more agitated than I was before.”

—— ▴△▴ ——

That night, Link dreams again.

It is not as long as his previous dream, and not as solid and real-feeling either, but it is still warm and familiar. A cloudy memory, rather than a clear one.

He is a child, and he is sneaking through the castle courtyard by the front entrance. He is so young that he is barely half as tall as the large rectangular hedges that grow parallel to the sparkling fountains.

Link would know this courtyard anywhere, he walks through it everyday… And yet, he feels like this is his first time rushing past these hedges and the large whitestone walls of the castle.

He sneaks past the Royal Guardsmen. (Why would he need to sneak past them? He is a Hylian soldier just like them.) He wears a green tunic, and carries a small sword and a wooden shield. (Where is the sacred blade on his back?) A fairy circles around him, following him as he runs. (Who is that?) He smiles and rushes behind another hedge as a guard turns the corner, excited by the fact that he’s actually getting away with this. He muffles the high-pitched giggles that bubble up from his throat. (He is just a child.)

Finally, he walks through a long stone tunnel and into a small enclave of the courtyard.

There, under an archway on the other side of the grass, is the princess – a child, just like him.

She speaks to him. She laughs, giggling lightly like Link had. The dream is foggy and far away, so her words are not clear, but Link doesn’t seem to mind or notice.

Her voice reaches him in brief moments through the fog;

“I had a dream… In the dream, dark storm clouds were billowing over the land of Hyrule… But suddenly, a ray of light shot out of the forest, parted the clouds and lit up the ground…”

“What is your name?”

“Link… Strange… it sounds somehow… familiar.”

When he wakes up in the morning, he doesn’t remember much of the dream. Only two things stick with him – the aching sense of familiarity, and the fact that the princess was so kind to him.

—— ▴△▴ ——

A week later, Link accompanies the princess to Gerudo Town.

Zelda seems to be grateful to get away from her father. She also seems very excited to visit Lady Urbosa. Link has heard that she is the closest figure the princess has to a mother after the queen passed away.

Zelda doesn’t walk ahead of their caravan of supplies as they travel this time. The desert is much too hot, especially on such a sunny day with not a cloud in the sky. Instead, she silently stares out the window of the royal carriage, safe in the shade of its roof

Link sits on the other side of the long seat, keeping a watchful eye. The Yiga Clan is fond of Gerudo Desert.

He misses listening to the princess ramble about ancient technology.

When they arrive at the Gerudo Royal Palace, Zelda rushes through all the formalities and professional greetings so that she is able to throw her arms around Urbosa as soon as she can. The tall woman hugs her back just as tight.

“It is very good to see you, my little bird,” Lady Urbosa says when she finally steps back. She catches Link’s gaze from where he stands several feet behind the princess. Usually men are not allowed in Gerudo Town, but an exception is made for Zelda’s guards. “And hello to you too, Chosen One.”

Link bows deeply, silent.

“I believe I haven’t seen you since the Knighting Ceremony.” A sly smile crosses Urbosa's face. “Zelda has told me much about you in her letters to me.”

“Urbosa!” Zelda shushes her and quickly changes the subject.

Each day they are in Gerudo Town, Zelda spends as much time as she can with Urbosa. It is not difficult, when Urbosa almost always accompanies the princess whenever she goes to check on Divine Beast Vah Naboris.

There, Zelda happily rattles off information about the ancient machine as she works on making adjustments to it.

“…What makes Vah Naboris so unique from the other Divine Beasts is that it utilizes two distinct power sources. The first is your typical entropy-based one seen in other ancient Sheikah tech, powered by that entropic blue liquid. But since Vah Naboris is capable of electric attacks, it has an additional electricity-based power system, which draws its power from the ground using special devices in its feet. We don’t know exactly how this works quite yet, although Purah and I are theorizing it might have something to do with static electricity created by the friction of Vah Naboris’s feet against the sand…”

When no one is looking, Link allows himself to smile.

He really does enjoy the princess’s company – when she’s not upset with him, that is. Although, it’s not his place to care about how the princess treats him. She is the princess and he is merely a soldier. She has the right to treat him however she wants. Link will protect her no matter what.

On the final day of their visit, Zelda spends time with Urbosa late into the evening. The sun sets and dusk falls. They stand on Vah Naboris, and the princess has fallen asleep in Lady Urbosa’s lap. This leaves Urbosa alone with Link for the first time.

She speaks with him, and clearly doesn’t expect him to speak back. Link diligently listens.

One thing she says particularly sticks out to him:

“She gets frustrated every time she looks up and sees you carrying that sword on your back,” Urbosa says, her voice cool and calm like the waters of a desert oasis. “It makes her feel like a failure when it comes to her own destiny.”

Link struggles to control the emotions displayed on his face, forcing his jaw to not hang open like a gaping fish. He is aghast, absolutely in shock.

The princess… compares herself to him? Why would she? He is so enormously beneath her, merely her knight.

And he knows her father will cruelly call her a failure, but he didn’t think the princess seriously believed him. How could she, when she is so incredibly intelligent? How could she believe him, when she can speak for hours about Sheikah technology as if she were a professional engineer? She thinks herself a failure, just because she cannot use godly magic?

Link clenches his fists, controlling himself and swallowing down his emotions like a good soldier does.

Godly magic. He wants to scoff. He’s never put too much faith in the Goddess, despite his ‘Chosen Hero’ status. In his eyes, the Goddess Hylia is long gone from this world, and his special soul is just a remnant of her previous power.

If Link worships anyone – if there is anyone he is as utterly devoted to as a priest would be to their deity – it would be the princess.

“She really is quite special,” Urbosa says at the end of her monologue. “You be sure to protect her with your life. It’s quite the honor.”

Link nods. He knows this. He knows this more than anything in the world.

—— ▴△▴ ——

After such a lovely visit with Urbosa, Zelda finds the small confines of the carriage ride home to be much too cramped. Especially with him sitting in the carriage with her.

“I’m going to stretch my legs,” she states plainly. It is cloudy today, so the desert air should be cooler. She leans forward so the driver can hear her. “Stop for a moment, please. I’m going to get out.”

The carriage gently halts, and Zelda opens the door. She hears Link open his door as well, and annoyance creeps up on her again. She turns to look back at him.

This time, she manages to be a bit better at controlling her temper. Her tone is curt and clipped, but she doesn’t shout. “Won’t you please just let me take a short walk on my own? I’ll only be out for a minute.”

Link does speak, just stares at her. Zelda has been around him enough now to know that looks means ‘No, I am still going to follow you around like a trained dog’.

She huffs a breath. “Fine. Just… Give me space, please? I’ve noticed you’ve been standing farther away from me lately. I appreciate that. Maybe stand even farther away this time.”

After a moment of hesitation, Link nods, then steps out of the carriage.

Zelda sighs again. By the time she turns around to leave as well, Link has already come around to stand outside her door. He holds his arm out.

Gentlemanly, her thoughts come to her unbidden. She pushes them away.

“Thank you,” she says tersely, holding onto his arm to assist her as she hops out of the carriage. Then she immediately starts walking away. “I will be back shortly.”

The air is much cooler, as she had suspected, so she feels just fine in her usual traveling clothes. She walks along the road, far ahead of the carriage. Although, it is barely a road, moreso a trail of sand that’s been more compacted than the rest of the desert, due to decades of wheels and feet treading over it. Zelda is thankful for her tall boots, making it difficult for sand to get inside them.

Link stays far behind her, like she’d asked. She can barely make out his figure in the sandy, dust-clouded air.

She sighs, relieved. It’s good to have space.

She doesn’t know how long she’s been walking when she sees someone else along the road. It’s a young Hylian woman with a large backpack – no doubt a traveling salesperson carrying all kinds of goods.

Zelda politely waves to her. “Good afternoon, miss!”

The woman’s eyes seem to light up when they see her. “Princess! Oh, how deeply honored I am to see you!” She rushes up to Zelda. “Could I, perhaps, have the great privilege of selling you some of my wares?”

“Of course!” Zelda smiles. She loves to speak to the citizens of her kingdom, to get to know them and their individual lives. These are the people it's her duty to protect. Every single one of their lives are important to her. “What do you have in stock?”

“Bananas, Your Highness!” The woman takes a step even closer to Zelda. “The finest bananas in all of Hyrule!”

Zelda’s stomach drops. She takes a step back. “On second thought, I seem to have left my rupee pouch back in my carriage—”

“Oh, don’t worry, Princess! For you,” The woman grabs Zelda’s wrist before she can escape any further, “My services are free! ”

Then there is a flash of light and a puff of smoke, and the woman in front of her now wears the signature mask and red uniform of the Yiga Clan. In her hand, she holds a curved sickle.

Zelda manages to pull her wrist free, and she runs.

She races back up the road, towards her carriage, towards Link. She is too frightened to be embarrassed for needing his help. She searches for Link in the distance, but she cannot see him through the dust clouds in the air. She looks behind her, and the Yiga Clan footsoldier is hot on her trail. She keeps running, her breaths coming fast and frantic.

Then ahead of her, there are suddenly two more Yiga soldiers rushing out from behind some rocks. They cut her off, the sharp edges of their sickles flashing in the light.

She gasps, turning to escape, but the first Yiga soldier comes up behind her. Zelda stumbles and falls to the ground.

She is surrounded on all sides. She is not carrying any weapons, since she did not expect to be outside for very long. She has no other way of defending herself – and more importantly, she is too frozen with fear even if she was able to. There is no escape.

The first Yiga soldier raises her curved blade. Zelda braces herself—

But there is no impact.

Instead, a figure rushes in front of her. There is the clashing sound of steel, and the sickle is disarmed from the Yiga soldier. It flies through the air, out of reach.

The Yiga soldier falls, unconscious.

Zelda dares to look up.

Link stands in front of her, shielding her with his body. He faces the remaining opponents, his fighting stance in perfect form – strong and steady, composed and calm. He brandishes the Master Sword ahead of him, and the Yiga soldiers stumble back just at the sight of the sacred blade.

His golden hair flutters in the wind. His shoulders are broad, and the muscles in his arms are visible beneath the tight fabric of his clothes. His eyes are sharp and alert, that overwhelming look of determination and purpose shining in them.

Zelda cannot help but think to herself that he is beautiful.

The Yiga Clan soldiers try to run away, but Link does not let them. He lunges forward like a hunting hound set free from its leash. He swings the Master Sword down at them, maneuvering around their feeble attempts to block. It is clear that he has much more skill in combat than they do.

Zelda has never seen Link fight this close up before. He is, without a doubt, the most skilled fighter she has ever seen in her life.

Finally, the Yiga soldiers have no choice but to escape with their special teleportation technique, disappearing in puffs of smoke back to who-knows-where.

Link doesn’t let down his guard, his fighting stance still strong and perfectly composed. It isn’t until after he scans the horizon and makes sure the road is free of enemies that he finally sheaths his sword on his back.

He turns around towards the princess.

Zelda expects disgust on his face. She expects him to mock her, a quip of ‘I told you so,’ or ‘I thought you said you could defend yourself?’ She expects something – a reaction, an emotion, anything.

But all Link does is silently hold out his hand to her, gazing down at her with the same look in his eyes that he had back in the carriage:

I am still going to follow you.

After a moment, Zelda snaps out of her stupor and reaches up for Link’s hand. He pulls her to her feet. She regains her footing, brushing the sand off of her clothes.

Link still says nothing. He just stands in parade rest, on guard, his alert eyes scanning the horizon again.

Zelda doesn’t understand. She doesn’t understand at all.

What is going on inside his mind?

“I think— I think I will return to the carriage now,” she says, trying to sound unfazed, holding onto the last of her dignity.

She walks up the road. Link follows her, keeping his distance.

Zelda notices he doesn’t stay too far away this time.

For the rest of the carriage ride back to the castle, Zelda cannot stop thinking about what had transpired. She had never felt so helpless, so afraid – completely surrounded by people who all wanted nothing more than to kill her. And Link – Link had saved her, without hesitation or reluctance. Zelda’s mind swims with the fear she had felt, the memory of it seemingly burned into her mind, replaying over and over…

…Over and over, she thinks of Link rushing to her defense. His strong, gloved hand holding the Master Sword. His muscled arm, his broad shoulders, the curve of his neck going up to his sharp jawline—

Stop. She must stop.

Her heart is racing, and she convinces herself it’s a remnant of the overwhelming fear she had just felt. Nothing more.

They arrive back at the castle in the late evening. Zelda bids her father hello, but says nothing else. Link escorts her back to her room, as he always does.

When they reach her bedroom door, her hand hesitates over the doorknob. The memory still has not left her mind, and the thing that is bothering her most of all is that she doesn’t understand Link’s actions

She hates not understanding. At heart, she is a scientist, an engineer. She likes to know how things work, to figure out the concrete logic behind something which was once thought to be a mystery.

Link is a bigger mystery to her than any piece of Sheikah tech has ever been.

Against her better judgment, she turns to face him.

She must understand.

“Why did you defend me?” Zelda’s voice seems to echo in the quiet, empty hallway of the castle. “Why did you defend me when I… I’ve been so unkind to you?”

Link stares back at her, his shoulders squared and posture straight. But his eyes are confused, uncomprehending.

Zelda doesn’t want to say her thoughts aloud. But she must. She needs to understand.

“I thought you…” Her voice is quiet, barely above a whisper. “I thought you despised me.”

Link’s eyes widen with shock. Zelda can practically see the way his mind races with thoughts – thoughts so intangible and unknown to her, hidden behind his ever-present silence.

Then Link kneels.

He bows his head, as if his eyes are unworthy of gazing upon her.

“I could never despise you, Your Highness.” His voice is full of more emotion than Zelda has ever heard from him – such an intense, honest reverence. “I… I live to serve you.”

Zelda just stares down at him, stunned. Every part of her wants to believe that Link is lying, that he is being forced to say this by order of her father. But she knows this is real. She knows that emotion in Link’s voice is real.

How can she not believe him when he is on one knee before her, as if worshiping her?

Zelda does not know how to respond to such devotion.

“Your— Your service is appreciated,” she finally says, her words faltering. “I bid you goodnight.”

Link nods, then begins to rise to his feet again.

Zelda rushes inside her room before he stands up all the way. She doesn’t want him to see the blush on her cheeks.

She rushes over to her diary:

“He saved me. Without a thought for his own life, he protected me from the ruthless blades of the Yiga Clan. Though I’ve been cold to him all this time… taking my selfish and childish anger out on him at every turn…

Still, he was there for me. I won’t ever forget that. Tomorrow, I shall apologize for all that had transpired between us.

And then… I will try talking to him. To Link. It’s worth a shot.”

—— ▴△▴ ——

When Link wakes up the next morning, he does not remember if he dreamed. But he has an aching, nostalgic feeling in his chest that tells him he most likely did. It seems that lately he’s been dreaming practically every night.

The day continues on the same as always. He showers in the barracks. He eats breakfast with his friends. He heads to the princess’s room, then trades positions with the night shift guards.

Then the princess opens her door, and all sense of normalcy disappears.

“Could you come inside?” she asks him. Her tone is not clipped or annoyed. There is no resentment in her eyes. If anything, she looks shy, her gaze flicking around nervously. “I… I would like to speak with you before we head out today.”

Link tries to not have his shock show on his face.

The princess… wants to speak with him?

He nods and obeys her, stepping inside her room and closing the door.

The princess stands before him. She takes a deep breath.

“I’m sorry that I’ve been so cruel to you.”

Link’s eyebrows shoot up.

That… was not anything he had expected to hear from her.

“I’m sorry that I have been taking my anger out on you,” the princess continues. “I was being incredibly immature, and I should have had better control over myself. The anger I have is for my father, not you, and you shouldn’t have had to deal with any of it.” She gives a small bow of her head. “For that, I deeply apologize, and I ask that you forgive me.”

Link does not know what to say. The princess does not need to apologize to him. She is the princess. She can treat him however she wants.

“There is nothing to forgive, Your Highness,” he says.

“Yes there is,” she replies, and her voice is as strong as it always is. “You did not deserve my anger or my unkindness. I see that now. I should have seen it much earlier.”

Link hesitates, choosing his words carefully. “His Majesty the King… he is kinder to his soldiers than he is to his own daughter. You sought control over your situation by… by treating me how you did. I do not blame you, Your Highness.”

“Explanations do not excuse my behavior,” the princess argues back. “I feel— I feel terribly guilty for the things I have said.”

“Please don’t,” Link responds quickly, the words sounding almost desperate. He does not want to be the cause of any of the princess’s unhappiness. “It is my purpose to serve you, Your Highness. You needed to let your anger out on someone, so I served that role for you. You have done nothing wrong.”

“Nothing wrong?” The princess lets out a huff of laughter, but her eyes still look sad. She shakes her head, then looks back at him. “Perhaps as royalty, it says in the rulebooks somewhere that I am allowed to treat my subjects however I want, sure. But as a person, what I did was wrong. As a person, speaking to another person, I should not have been so disrespectful.”

Link does not understand why the princess is acting like they are equals. She is incomparable to him. She is so much further above him.

“I want to be a better person than my father,” the princess finally says. “So once again, I say I’m sorry.”

Link stares at her, that uncomprehending look still in his eyes. But he can see Zelda is not going to give up. Like with everything she does, she is determined and strong.

He bows his head to her. “Then I accept your apology, Your Highness. All is forgiven.”

Even though, as he said, there is nothing to forgive.

But the words seem to appease the princess. When he looks back up at her, she is smiling. “Then… I was hoping that… perhaps we could be friends, if that is alright with you?”

Again, ‘friends’ implies ‘equals’, which Link does not understand. But he supposes Zelda just means that she is going to try and treat him more kindly in the future.

Link would like that very much. He does quite enjoy the princess’s company.

“Of course, Your Highness.”

The room begins to fill with awkward silence, but the princess clears her throat before it can last too long. “Good. Well then, shall we go?”

Link nods, stepping out of the way, allowing for Zelda to walk to the door. He follows her into the hallway.

“I promise I’m not usually so… you know,” she says, looking over to him. “I hope my actions have not ruined your opinion of me.”

“Of course not, Princess,” Link says, obediently walking at her side. “You have been very kind to me previously. I knew you were just upset, and that your anger was only temporary.”

Zelda’s eyebrow quirks up. “But I have not spoken to you before you became my knight.”

Link’s eyes go wide with realization.

His dreams. Unconsciously, he had thought of the Zeldas that appear in his dreams.

Link’s mind reels for a moment, suddenly dizzy. It felt so natural to recall those dreams as if they were memories. But while they are so familiar, he reminds himself that they are not actual memories.

…Or at least, not memories of this lifetime.

“Link?”

He snaps out of his revere. “I apologize, Your Highness. I meant— I meant that you are so kind to others. That is how I knew you were only temporarily angry.”

The princess gives him a curious look, but doesn’t push the topic any further. “Right. Well, it was temporary. I promise I’ll show you that it was. Alright?”

She smiles at him. It is slightly forced and awkward – she is overly reassuring him, trying too hard – but the feelings behind it are genuine.

It is still just as beautiful as the smile she gives him in his dreams.

He pushes the thought away. He straightens his posture, clasping his hands behind his back – trying to remind himself of who he is, trying to ground himself here, in this moment.

“Alright,” he responds. “Yes, Your Highness.”

Chapter Text

“You’ve met with a terrible fate, haven’t you?”

Link turns around to face the voice, startled. He thought he was alone, here in this…

…Where is he?

It looks like the inside of some kind of tower. The walls and floors are lined with large, moss-covered stone bricks. And in the center of the room, wooden cogs and other mechanical parts wind around, powering something high up at the top of the tower. Perhaps this is a clocktower then. Or maybe some kind of belltower, capable of producing music? Link swears he can hear a melody… but he can’t tell if that’s real, or only in his mind.

He faces the man who had spoken, barely visible in the dim light. The man is tall and thin, with short red-brown hair. He carries a huge backpack with masks hanging all over it. His smile is cold and sinister, and the darkness of the room only adds his eeriness.

Link is a grown man, wearing the sky blue Champion’s tunic.

Strange. He feels like he’s met this man before as a child… But when would he have done that?

“It’s been a while since I’ve seen you, hasn’t it Hero?” the man asks.

Link narrows his eyes at him.

“Ah, I see you don’t remember me.” The man steps forward, the masks clinking against the buckles of his bag as he does so. But the way he moves looks… disconnected. It’s choppy, lagging, as if he’s teleporting from one movement to the next. “I own the Happy Mask Shop. I travel far and wide in search of masks.”

In the next moment, the mask salesman is suddenly standing much too close to Link without apparently having to move his legs. That eerie smile seems to be permanently plastered onto the salesman’s face. It sends a shiver of fear down Link’s spine.

Link takes a step back. He has to get out of here. Where is the princess? He must be at her side. He must protect her—

“Your princess is not here. Not now.”

Link’s eyes go wide. How… How did he know—

The mask salesman laughs. It is not a comforting sound. “Oh, please. Don’t act so surprised. Here in your dreams, I can see all your thoughts.”

Dreams?

Link’s shoulders settle, his shock melting from them. So he is dreaming again. Perhaps that explains the music, and the mask salesman’s strange movements.

“You understand now, yes?” The salesman nods at him. “Good, good.”

Link’s head feels foggy and dizzy, like he’s not quite in his body. But he’s no longer in a panic, now that he knows what’s going on – at least somewhat.

He looks at the man in front of him and thinks as clearly as he can through his cloudy mind; What do you want from me?

The mask salesman laughs again. “I told you. I travel far and wide in search of masks.” In an instant, he is leaning forward, much too close to Link’s face. “And you have worn many, many masks throughout your lives. Haven’t you, Hero?”

Link steps back again, trying to regain his personal space. He shakes his head; No.

“Oh, yes. Yes you have.” The mask salesman keeps smiling. “You have had many faces, and have been called by many names. Truly, a terrible fate – to have to repeat this cycle time and time again. I do not envy your curse.”

The salesman’s words just make Link feel dizzier. He doesn't understand.

The mask salesman tuts. “A shame. You don’t remember. That is alright. You will remember soon enough. After all, a new story is just beginning.”

Link’s eyes sharpen at that; What do you mean?

That bone-chilling laugh bubbles forth from the mask salesman’s throat again. “I cannot tell you that. It is not my place to meddle with fate. I am merely an observer.”

He steps closer, jutting through the space in his otherworldly way.

Then in the next millisecond, one of his hands is tight around Link’s wrist, and his other hand rests against Link’s face.

Link tenses. He feels frozen in place.

“I wonder…” The mask salesman stares into his eyes. Overgrown fingernails slide down the edge of Link’s jaw. “…What kind of mask will you make this time?”

And with that, Link runs.

He pulls his arm free and runs in the opposite direction. While his mind is still lost and cloudy, his feet seem to know the direction of the exit. He runs through the dimly lit room until he reaches a door. Right, the door that leads outside, into Clock Town. He remembers now. He knows where he is.

He pushes open the door and—

This… is not Clock Town.

The music in his head shifts to a new melody, and vision fills with beautiful, colorful lights – the blues and purples of swirling nebulae, and the bright white pinpricks of hundreds of stars, surrounding him on all sides of this large, dome-shaped room. The lights reflect against the tile floor, inset with the lines of star maps. In the center of the room, above a round platform, there is a huge telescope hanging from the ceiling.

Link stops in his tracks, staring in awe. He’s forgotten about the mask salesman – who, luckily, seems to have left him alone, as he hears no footsteps behind him. He gazes at the beautiful room, his eyes shining in the light.

He is in the Astral Observatory.

But that doesn’t make any sense. He’d need to follow a secret passageway through Termina Field to reach the Astral Observatory. How is he here, when he was just in the…

…Where had he just been?

“Will you gaze into the telescope?”

Link’s head whips toward the voice. There is an old man with long gray hair. He wears a robe as blue as the lights swirling around the room. This is the astronomer, Link realizes.

Link stares at him, uncomprehending.

The astronomer just gives him a friendly smile, deep crow’s feet crinkling in the corners of his eyes. He gestures towards the center of the room and repeats his question;

“Will you gaze into the telescope?”

Hesitantly, Link steps forward, up onto the platform. He leans down and places his eye over the lens of the eyepiece.

Through the telescope, Link sees the moon.

It is huge in the sky – larger than he can ever remember it being before. Then the moon turns towards him, as if it were a head swiveling on an invisible neck, revealing itself to have a face. The moon’s eyes are red and bulging, and its mouth gnashes with teeth like some kind of horrible monster.

Link flinches back, his eye leaving the lens. His vision fills with the beautiful colors of the Observatory again.

He looks back at where the astronomer was standing, but no one is there anymore. Link scans the room.

He is alone.

Then the colors of the room begin to shift. The nebulae of blues and purples fade into an ominous maroon-red. The hundreds of stars remain on the walls, but they too begin to glow red.

Dread pools in Link’s stomach. Frantically, he reaches for the telescope lens again. He looks through it.

Outside, the moon is just as large as it was before. But now it no longer has a face.

Instead, it now is as red as blood.

Link pulls himself away from the eyepiece. He knows what this means – danger will soon come. He has to prepare. He has to find the princess. He has to keep her safe.

He looks around, searching for the exit, but he cannot find it.

When he looks back at the center of the room, the telescope is no longer there. Instead, there is a large hole in the ceiling where it used to be.

The room is empty. Link stands with nothing but the red light and the stars on the walls. The room feels even bigger than it used to be before.

Then there are rumbling, crashing sounds. Dust and debris pour down from the hole in the ceiling.

Link’s dread grows. He wants to run. He is not ready—

Something huge falls from the ceiling. Link can’t make out what it is at first, but then it emerges from the clouds of dust surrounding it. It’s some kind of creature with several mechanical-looking legs, and the rest of its body comprised of what looks like glowing ooze twisted into the shapes of muscle.

The creature turns to face him. Its eyes glow bright red like the stars around them.

Without question, Link knows this is Ganon. He knows, deep in his soul. This is the evil he has fought lifetime after lifetime.

He feels the weight of the Master Sword on his back. He draws it. He has no choice but to fight.

Ganon roars.

The music stops.

And Link wakes up.

—— ▴△▴ ——

Zelda turns to Link beside her. Their footsteps echo down the long, empty hallway of the castle. “Did you hear there was a blood moon last night?”

Strangely, Link seems to flinch at her words. It is barely detectable, but Zelda notices it. She’s spent so much time around Link now that she is getting much better at reading that unreadable face of his.

“I hear they’re showing up more often. My father thinks that they’ll soon show up every full moon – a sign that the Calamity is approaching faster,” she continues. “I might not go out researching today. The land’s sure to be crawling with monsters now. I’ll wait a couple days until their numbers thin out a little.”

They turn the corner and start descending a starwell. Zelda has invited Link to eat breakfast with her this morning, rather than him eating in the soldier’s dining hall like usual. Usually Zelda takes her breakfast in her chambers – that way, she doesn’t have to spend it with her father. But the king is away in Rito Village at the moment, so there is no risk of that today. She hopes occasionally sharing some meals with Link will help her get to know him better, now that they are on friendly terms.

It’s been a few days since Zelda apologized to Link. But since then, Link has still been as silent and mysterious as always. She hopes that eventually she’ll be able to get him to open up a little.

The castle’s dining hall is empty, as Zelda knew it would be. It’s a beautiful room with high, rib-vaulted ceilings, and large tapestries hanging on the walls that depict ancient legends. In the center of the room is a long, thin table. Zelda sits in a tall chair at the very end of it, then taps the smaller seat beside her. “Come, sit down.”

Link gives her a confused look. His gaze flicks from her to the chair.

She tilts her head. “What’s on your mind, Link?”

He does not respond to her right away. Shortly after Zelda apologized, she made it clear to him that if he does not want to speak, he does not have to.

Even so, he eventually answers her.

“I am… I am allowed to sit at the table beside you, Princess?”

“Yes, of course,” she replies. This is so obvious to her that she says the words almost offhandedly. “Now please, come sit.”

After another moment of hesitation, Link slowly steps forward and sits in the seat at Zelda’s right. His posture is as straight as the back of the chair.

Soon, the servants start to bring out the food. They place four large platters on the table, giving a wide array of options to choose from – fried eggs with rice, various omelets with meat and mushrooms and vegetables, chunks of fluffy bread, honeyed apples and other fruits, even a stack of crepes with wildberries and cream on top.

For Zelda, as a princess, this is very normal. Whatever she doesn’t finish will be sent back to the kitchens for the servants to eat in addition to their own meals.

But Link – he is staring at the platters of food with wide, hungry eyes.

Zelda can’t help but let out a small laugh. “Eat as much as you like. It’s not like I’ll be able to finish all this.”

Link looks at her, then back at the spread in front of him. With unsure hands, he picks up a serving spoon and hesitantly puts a modest portion of the food onto his plate.

His polite table manners don’t last very long.

After he clears his plate for the second time, Zelda has to hold back more of her laughter. “You sure were hungry, weren’t you?”

Link freezes while chewing, his eyes flicking to Zelda. He quickly composes himself again and swallows. “I apologize.”

“No, don’t! I’m glad you like it.” She smiles reassuringly.

Link just nods at her and looks away.

They continue eating in silence. It is not quite awkward silence, but Zelda still feels like she should speak.

Eventually, she sees that Link’s eyes have trailed over to one of the tapestries on the wall.

“That depicts the legend of the first Calamity,” Zelda tells him, gesturing over to it with her fork. “It is said that thousands of years ago, the Divine Beasts and the guardians assisted the princess and Hero of that era as they sealed away Calamity Ganon.”

She turns back to her meal, picking at it.

“We’re supposed to do that too one day, y’know.” She chuckles weakly, shaking her head. “I mean, I don’t know how, seeing as I can’t use my magic. But I’m sure we’ll figure it out.”

Link doesn’t respond. His gaze is honed in on the depiction of Ganon in the center of the tapestry.

The rest of the day passes by rather smoothly. Zelda doesn’t leave the castle grounds due to the recent blood moon, and instead chooses to spend the day with Purah and Robbie, helping them with their work on restoring the guardians. She also, of course, spends a large chunk of her day kneeling before the castle’s Goddess statue and praying, trying to unlock her powers.

Unsurprisingly, she makes no progress on that front.

But she did manage to help Robbie with some equations to figure out the mechanics of the guardians’ arms. So overall, she considers it a successful day.

As usual, Link was with her wherever she went. He followed beside her as she walked from one room to the next. Sometimes they spoke, sometimes they didn’t. But there was not a single unpleasant interaction between them.

As the evening winds down, Zelda closes the book she is reading and places it onto her desk. She turns in her seat to face Link, who is standing guard by the door of her room – posture straight, eyes alert.

“Can I ask you something?” Zelda breaks the room’s silence.

Link’s gaze shifts over to her, still maintaining his perfect parade rest. He nods.

“Why is it that you don’t speak?” she asks. “Or, I mean why do you not usually speak?”

As she has come to expect, Link does not answer right away. His eyes flick away and his lips flatten. Zelda can tell his answer is difficult for him to say.

“You do not have to answer if you do not want to,” she adds. “I was just… wondering.”

Silence fills the room again. Link’s face is unreadable as ever, his jaw clenched.

Still, he answers her.

“As Hylia’s Chosen, my responsibilities are… immense.” His voice has a certain graveness in it that makes it sound deeper than usual. It rumbles in his chest. “The people of Hyrule look to me for hope. If I don't always look and behave how a Hero should, then that hope dwindles until it is lost.”

And oh, that is a feeling Zelda knows all too well. She tries and tries to maintain her image of being a strong, fearless princess. It gets more difficult every year, as she is no closer to unlocking her powers and her father’s words grow harsher, but she tries all the same.

For her, being under such pressure has caused her temper to get a bit out of control. For Link, it seems to have done the opposite – causing him to stop outwardly expressing his thoughts and feelings.

“If I do not speak, then I do not risk burdening people with my words,” Link continues. “And, I also don’t have to concern myself with always saying the right thing that a Hero should say.”

“I understand,” Zelda responds. “That… That makes sense.”

How did she not realize this earlier? The two of them are more similar than she had allowed herself to think.

After all, they are supposedly the reincarnated souls of the Hero and the princess – the same ones from the legends and tapestries. Their destinies are bound together.

“May… May I ask you a question, Princess?”

Zelda snaps out of her thoughts, surprised that Link has actually initiated conversation. “Of— Of course. Of course you may.”

“Why did you invite me to breakfast this morning?” he asks. “I thought that… you would rather not spend time with me.”

“I told you I was done acting like that.”

“You said you would not take your anger out on me anymore. That doesn’t mean you have to suddenly enjoy that your father has assigned me to be your knight. I understand if it— if it still bothers you.” He looks off to the side, then gives a curt bow of his head. “I apologize. I have spoken too freely—”

“No! No, it’s fine. You may always speak freely with me – if you want to, that is.”

Although, now that Link mentions it, the question is a valid one, isn’t it? In just a couple days, Zelda has gone from trying to push Link as far away from her as she could, to going out of her way to spend more time with him than usual. It makes sense that he’d be confused.

Zelda isn’t quite sure of the answer herself.

“It doesn’t bother me,” she finally says, and is surprised to realize that her words are the truth. It doesn’t bother her that Link is her knight – now that she knows that he doesn’t look down on her or judge her behind her back. “And as for why I invited you to breakfast, I told you that I want to be friends, right? That is why.”

Link considers this answer for a moment, then bows his head again. “I understand… Thank you, Your Highness.”

“Of course, Link.” Then Zelda’s expression grows shier. “…I was hoping that, maybe, you could join me for breakfast again some other day.”

Link nods. “Yes, Princess.”

“Not everyday, of course. I still want some time to myself. And I wouldn’t want to keep you completely away from your soldier friends, either.” Then a thought lights up in Zelda’s mind. “Speaking of which, I wouldn’t mind meeting your friends one day.”

“No.”

Zelda’s eyes go wide at how hurried Link’s tone had sounded. She’s never heard him sound like that before. The look in his gaze is intense.

He almost looks… afraid.

Zelda can’t help but burst into laughter. She smiles, and it is genuine.

“What?” she says slyly. “You think they’ll embarrass you in front of me?”

Link shifts on his feet, grimacing. “I… I do not think you will enjoy their company.”

“I’ll be the judge of that.” She waves off his words. “Besides, as the princess, I should be more involved in my kingdom’s military. It’s usually my father’s domain, but I think it’s high time I gave you all a visit.”

Link looks uneasy, but he still answers dutifully, “Yes, Princess.”

Later that night, after Link has left, Zelda turns to her diary once again. She writes about the day – about how Link has turned out to be quite the glutton, how she learned the reason he doesn’t speak, and how she is slowly getting him to open up to her.

At the end of the journal entry, she writes:

“I wish to talk with him more and to see what lies beneath those calm waters, to hear him speak freely and openly… And perhaps I, too, will be able to bare my soul to him and share the demons that have plagued me all these years.”

—— ▴△▴ ——

The weeks go by. With every passing day, Zelda finds it easier to be around Link.

She gets to know him more and more, bit by bit, asking questions here and there;

“How old are you?” she asks him one day at another breakfast.

“Twenty, Your Highness.”

“Ah, same as me. For some reason, I thought you were a little older. Must just be because of how you act.”

Another day, while in the castle’s library, “You’re from Hateno, yes?”

“Yes, Princess.”

“I love Hateno. Such a beautiful village. I would love to visit it more.”

And another day, while they get their horses from the castle’s stables, “What’s your horse’s name?”

Link hesitates for a moment, but then, “She is named Epona, Princess.”

Knowing Link more personally has really helped. Before, it was so easy to be angry at him when he felt like just an extension of her father’s control over her – a silent figure, more symbol than person.

But now, Zelda is able to think of him as much more than that. He is Link, who will always protect her from enemies when they are out on her research missions. Link, who always pets the innkeepers’ dogs whenever they stop by a stable. Link, who can eat three plates of food in one sitting. She’s able to think of him less as ‘O Great Hylia’s Chosen One, he who wields the sacred blade’, and more as just… her friend.

He is still just as quiet and serious as always. But now, she knows more about the man that lays behind that silent mask.

One day, Zelda is once again trying to unlock her powers in the chapel of Hyrule Castle. After praying before the Goddess statue for what must be hours on end, she finally decides that she’s fed up for the day.

She sighs. Slowly, she rises up off her aching knees and stands. She turns around to face Link, standing guard by the door at the other end of the room, as always.

He is staring at her, but Zelda is quick to remind herself not to worry – there is no judgment in those eyes.

She forces a smile onto her face, but she is sure her eyes still look sad. “I’ve decided I’m finished. It’s probably time for luncheon now, anyway.”

Link nods, stepping away from the doorway, allowing Zelda to pass through.

As they walk silently through the hallway, Zelda tries to get rid of the heaviness in her heart that always shows up after she fails to unlock her powers. She wants to stop wallowing in her sadness and self-pity all the time. That is what made her lash out at Link. No, she’s going to try harder to cheer herself up and maintain a positive attitude. There must be something…

“I know,” she suddenly says aloud, looking at Link. “How about after we eat, I can go watch over the Royal Guard down at the training grounds and finally meet your friends.”

It’s barely noticeable, but Link’s shoulders tense. He looks away. His mouth tries to remain neutral, but Zelda can see a faint grimace at the edges of it.

“Oh, come on. It won’t be so bad,” she says teasingly, finally able to smile for real again. “I really want to meet the soldiers that comprise my kingdom’s army. And I want to see how prepared you all are for the upcoming battle against the Calamity.”

After a long moment, Link finally responds, not meeting Zelda’s eyes. “…If that is what Your Highness wants, then it shall be.”

Zelda snickers at Link’s always-so-professional tone. “Yes, it shall.”

During lunch, she persuades Link to join her at the table again. It doesn’t take them very long to eat, and soon they are descending the stone steps of the castle and walking out into the grassy courtyard of the soldiers’ training grounds. The sun shines high in the sky, barely a cloud in sight. It is a rather hot day, and Zelda is glad she’s not wearing all her formal robes.

The Royal Guard are just outside the dining hall building, having just eaten their own lunches. Commander Eagus is there, as well as the Commanders of the other battalions. They are addressing the soldiers, but too far away to be heard.

Zelda approaches her army with her usual confident stride. Link follows behind her, as always.

“Commander Eagus!” Zelda calls out to him. She finds that her smile is still on her face. Yes, cheering herself up like this feels much, much better than wallowing in her failures. Who would’ve guessed.

The soldiers all turn towards her at the sound of her voice, then gasp and start to murmur amongst themselves. One tall soldier with red hair gets a look of completely dumbfounded shock on his face.

Behind her, Zelda can hear Link exhale heavily – in a way that could possibly be interpreted as annoyance. Zelda didn’t know Link was capable of such a thing.

“Princess!” Commander Eagus’s voice booms. “And Link, my boy! What a pleasant surprise! What brings you down to our end of the castle grounds?”

“I thought it was time that I extended my knowledge of armies beyond my history books and the battle maps in my father’s war room,” Zelda replies. She halts in front of the crowd, ignoring their gawking eyes. “I want to stay here for the afternoon and observe your training – if that would be alright, Commander?”

“Of course, of course!” Commander Eagus laughs boisterously. “What an excellent idea. I think you being here will serve as extra motivation for my troops to train extra hard today. Isn’t that right everyone?”

The soldiers respond with a resounding “Yes, Commander!”

Zelda will admit she’s a bit excited to be here. She likes learning about new things. She turns to Link. “How about you introduce me to your friends?”

Before Link can even consider a reply, noise erupts from the crowd. Many of the Royal Guardsmen surge forward to meet Zelda. But the one with red hair pushes his way to the front.

“Right here, Princess!” He swings his arm around Link’s shoulders and embraces him in a tight side-hug.

He’s grinning widely. Link looks completely dead inside.

“My name is Groose, and I am one of Link’s best and most cherished friends!” The other soldiers behind him try to introduce themselves too, but Groose doesn’t give them the chance to. “I’m absolutely honored to finally make Your Highness’s acquaintance. I’d love to say I’ve heard so much about you, but unfortunately I have not. As I’m sure you know, this little guy’s not really a talker.”

Zelda laughs awkwardly, feeling a bit of Link’s embarrassment second-hand. She can see why he didn’t want her to come here now.

Groose lights up like Zelda’s laugh is the greatest sound in the world. Link stares at her with begging eyes, as if he’s saying ‘please don’t encourage him’.

“I suppose then, Your Royal Radientness,” Groose continues, speaking over the other voices behind him, “If we want any real chance of getting to know each other, we won’t be able to rely on Link here telling us, and instead we’ll have to hang out for ourselves. How does that sound? Maybe this weekend, just the two of us? We get rest days from training on Saturdays. I could show you this lovely spot right by Regencia River—”

“That’s enough, everyone!” Commander Eagus finally shouts loud enough over the commotion. “Are you trying to show the princess that you behave no better than a swarm of bokoblins? Come now, do your warm-ups and start your laps. You’re going around the whole courtyard five times today.”

The entire crowd groans. Reluctantly, they pull themselves away from Zelda – even Groose – and start to do various stretches. They still murmur to each other, their eyes flicking over to their princess.

“They seem nice,” Zelda says to Link. She chuckles. “Although I’ll admit, I thought they were all going to be as straight-faced and serious as you. But I guess that’s just how you are, isn’t it?”

Link’s mouth is pressed in a thin line. He still looks vaguely annoyed – not at Zelda herself, he could never be, Zelda knows that now. But she also recognizes something else in that unreadable face of his – that fiercely protective look he usually gets when defending her from enemies out on her research missions.

Why would he be feeling like that now, when they are safe inside the walls of the castle grounds?

One by one, the soldiers finish their warm-ups and run off to do their laps. Link shifts on his feet so his fellow Royal Guardsmen cannot see his face. “I apologize for their behavior, Princess.” His voice is low and very quiet. “They are… not as disciplined as you’ve come to expect from me.”

Zelda is about to say there’s no need for Link to apologize, when Groose’s voice loudly returns.

“Link, did you just speak?! ” With his mouth agape, he shakes the young man doing warm-ups beside him. “Pipit, did you see that?? Link’s mouth was moving!”

“No shot! You’re lying!” The other man, Pipit, whips his head towards them. “Link, did you actually talk?!”

“What did you say?!” Groose adds. “You didn’t say anything bad about me, did you?”

Link goes very red. He tries to return to parade rest beside Zelda, but his shoulders bunch up around his neck and he looks off to the side. Zelda holds back a smile.

“I swear, man! His lips were moving!” Groose keeps shouting. The conversations of the other soldiers around them rises in volume, as they look just as enraptured by this news as Groose is.

“You’re seeing things, Groose,” Pipit finally says. “I’ve known Link for six years now, and I’ve never once heard or seen him speak. Your eyes are playing tricks on you.” Finishing his last stretch, Pipit starts running along the dirt track that loops the courtyard. As he passes by Zelda, he tells her, “Sorry for my friend’s rudeness, Princess.”

“Oh, it’s no problem,” she says back.

Groose grumbles to himself, but his face lights up as he passes by Zelda, starting his laps as well. “See you around then, Your Royal Illustriousness. Stick around for a bit longer, and you’ll get to watch me do my bench press later.”

Zelda snorts, shaking her head and rolling her eyes as Groose runs off. These soldiers are all so different than she had expected. No stoic statues with ramrod-straight postures that she’s grown used to with Link. They’re all just… people. People like anyone else.

She thinks back to what Link told her weeks ago, when she had asked him why he doesn’t speak – “The people of Hyrule look to me for hope. If I don't always look and behave how a Hero should, then that hope dwindles until it is lost.”

She understands now that his fellow soldiers are included in this. They all look to Link as the most skilled warrior amongst them – their Champion, their Hero that wields the Master Sword. They’re able to laugh and joke and be not-so-disciplined because they know Link will be the one leading them to victory when the war finally comes.

He has the weight of all of their lives on his shoulders.

“And what do you think you’re doing just standing around, young man?”

Zelda snaps out of her thoughts to see Commander Eagus is now standing beside her, looking at Link with a smirk on his face.

Link straightens his posture at attention. The red color has almost completely faded from his face, only a little remaining on his edges of his pointed eyes.

“You think just because you’re on duty, that means you get to skip out on training today?” Commander Eagus laughs. “No no no, you’re here on the soldiers’ grounds, which means you have to run laps just like anyone else.”

Link hesitates for a moment. His eyes flick nervously to Zelda.

“Link, the entire Hylian army is here. If anyone somehow breaches the walls and comes to attack, we’ll all be here to defend the princess.” He gestures toward the last few soldiers starting their laps. “Now get started. You don’t want to get too far behind.”

Link’s gaze shifts toward Zelda again. He stares at her, and she recognizes that loyal-dog look in his eyes.

“Go ahead, Link. You have my permission,” she tells him. “Training will probably be more interesting than standing around with me all afternoon anyway.”

Link nods his head, then turns around and starts running to join the other soldiers without a moment of pause—

Almost as if he’s grateful to be doing something else other than standing there, stewing in his embarrassment.

Realizing this, Zelda smiles to herself. It is nice to see more evidence that Link is just a person, too. The same person that pets the innkeepers’ dogs and can eat three servings in one meal.

Beside her, Commander Eagus scratches his back of his neck, looking sheepish. “I really do apologize for my troops’ behavior, Princess. I assure you, they usually conduct themselves much better. They’re just very excited to see you.”

“Oh, there’s no need to apologize, Commander!” Zelda reassures him. “I completely understand. Link warned me something like this might happen.”

“He did now, did he?” Eagus raises an eyebrow. Lacing his hands behind him, he looks out at Link running along the dirt track.

Zelda watches, too. Link’s fast, almost having caught up with his friends already. The sun beats down on them, and she can tell it must be difficult to run in such heat, but he pushes through undeterred – determined, disciplined.

Even at a distance, she sees the defined muscles of his calves, of his arms, his shoulders—

Stop, she tells herself. Stop.

“You must be really special to him, you know.”

Zelda turns toward Eagus again. “Hm?”

“Pipit was right. Link never speaks. And I mean never.” The Commander laughs, deep and rumbling in his large chest. “So if he’s really speaking to you… I wouldn’t take that for granted, Princess.”

Zelda knows this. She was just as surprised when she heard Link speak for the first time. She couldn’t comprehend why she was the one who had the opportunity to hear that voice.

She still doesn’t, really.

“Of course, Commander,” Zelda responds. “I understand.”

—— ▴△▴ ——

Link is glad to be training again.

He hasn’t participated in soldiers’ training for a couple months now, not since before he became the princess’s knight. It’s been a while since he’s had the opportunity to run for this long, or lift heavy weights, or spar against another Royal Guardsmen.

Even so, he has not lost any of his skill.

He is one of the first to finish his laps, despite having started late. He’s always had more stamina than his fellow soldiers, as well as having more experience out on the field than any of them. He slows to a stop at the end of the track.

Groose snickers at him after he catches up, “Showing off for the princess, I see?”

Link just rolls his eyes, trying his best to ignore him.

“It’s no use, y’know,” Groose continues, elbowing Link. “You saw that look in her eye? She’s totally into me. She even laughed at my jokes.”

Groose always tends to be annoying, but it is mostly tolerable – sometimes even funny. That is why he is still Link’s friend. But this – Link hates when Groose speaks about the princess like this. And her showing up here has only made it worse.

Link holds his chin high, staring at Groose with the most piercing stare he can muster, trying to communicate to him with just his eyes alone;

To speak of the princess in such a way, to even think such things, is completely unacceptable.

Groose looks unfazed. He raises his eyebrows tauntingly, crossing his arms over his chest. “What? What is it you wanna say, Link? Why don’t you just tell me?”

Link takes a deep breath in, and out. He focuses on the steady inhale and exhale, rather than the anger bubbling in his chest. He will stay calm, composed – the perfect soldier. He will not show the Hylian army that this is all it takes to make their Chosen Hero lose control over himself.

Why does he even care so much?

“Back off, Groose. C’mon.” Pipit swoops in and gets in between them. “Can’t you see Link takes his job as the princess’s knight very seriously? The king would probably have you banished for making comments like that. Link’s just trying to look out for you.”

“I dunno.” Groose is taller than Pipit, so he’s able to smirk at Link from over Pipit’s shoulder. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say little Link here is jealous of me.”

“Groose, I mean it. Shut up.”

As his friends argue amongst themselves, Link continues to take deep breaths – in, and out. Pipit is right. Link cares very much about upholding proper protocol, especially when it comes to the princess. He cares so much about this because it is his job to care about it.

Jealous. What a ridiculous notion.

His mind thinks back to his dreams – him and Zelda, flying their giant birds into the sunset. I was going to ask her on a date.

He shakes his head, walking away. He must keep his mind focused on training.

Groose has always been like this anyway, that same part of his mind thinks.

Commander Eagus tells his battalion that next up, they’ll be doing their strength training. Link is grateful, because this means he won’t have to interact with the other soldiers. Strength training has always been a time where he could be alone. It’s almost like a kind of meditation, focusing on the ache of his muscles as he worked them to exhaustion.

The soldiers all file over to the part of the courtyard where all the workout gear is set up – pull-up bars, parallettes, and other bars at different heights, all made from iron. There are various weights laid out of all different shapes and sizes. The ground is more dirt than grass, having been tread on by so many people so often. Link finds his usual spot and begins his calisthenics.

He notices the princess is watching him. How could he not notice? After his friends thoroughly mortified him in front of her earlier, he is now hyper-aware of where her gaze his looking.

He tries to return his focus to his training again. He interlocks his fingers and circles his wrists, loosening them up, before lowering himself to the ground to do push-ups. He does a set of regular push-ups, then shifts his position to do archer push-ups. After that, he moves to one of the pairs of parallettes and starts doing a set of 90-degree handstand push-ups, his arms only shaking slightly. His muscles burn, but the pain grounds him here in this moment, rather than his mind wandering off into his turbulent thoughts or the memories of his dreams.

That is something he’s always liked about being a soldier. Here, he is given a task, and he completes it. Simple as that. Doesn’t matter how painful or difficult the challenge is, he is expected to do as he’s told. To follow orders. To obey.

Some days, he can feel so confused, so lost, so dissociated from his own body – but as a member of the Royal Guard, he is able to remedy this. Here, he doesn’t need to think about his dreams or his emotions. He doesn’t need to think about his destiny, or the pressure and worry that come with it. Here, he just has to do as he is commanded. They point him in a direction and he will run there. They give him a target and he will defeat it. They give him the princess and he will protect her. He will obey her.

Here, he doesn’t need to think about being Hylia’s Chosen Hero. He doesn’t even need to think about being a person, and all the confusing feelings that come with that.

All he needs to think about is being the perfect soldier. A weapon, perfectly crafted to be of service to the hand that wields him.

When he rises from the parallettes, he is panting and sweating under the hot sun. His thoughts are solely focused on the aching muscles in his arms. In a second-nature motion he has done many times during many previous workouts, he pulls off his Champion’s tunic, exposing his upper body to the air. He sighs in relief as his skin is immediately cooled down, no longer suffocated by the thick fabric. He raises his tunic in his hands to wipe the sweat off his face.

When he lowers his hands again, he notices Zelda is staring right at him.

And her face has gone very red.

Link had been so focused on his training, that he had forgotten she was there. More than that – he had not noticed that she had come closer to him, now standing right at the edge of the strength training section of the courtyard.

He furrows his eyebrows, not sure why she is looking at him so intently. Does she need something from him?

This seems to snap the princess out of her thoughts. “S-Sorry! Sorry, I’m— I’m staring, aren’t I?” She laughs nervously. “It— It’s just, you— The way your— Your muscles are so— A-And I mean this purely from— purely from a scientific point of view— yes, from a scientific viewpoint on the matter— Your muscles are so defined! It’s— It’s almost like looking at one of my anatomy books.”

Link just stares back at her, silent.

“A-Actually, in fact,” Zelda walks over to a nearby tree, sitting down in its shade. “I think— I think it would be very good for me to observe you while you— while you do your training. For scientific research, of course! For studying and such. Is that— Is that alright with you?”

Link continues to stare at her blankly. He nods, just as serious as ever.

“G-Good! Good.” The princess pulls out her research journal from the pouch on her belt that she keeps it in. “I’ll just— I’ll just be right here.”

Link nods again, then turns around to face the pull-up bar to continue his workout.

When he is sure the princess can’t see his face, he smiles to himself.

—— ▴△▴ ——

Later, Commander Eagus tells them the last part of their afternoon training will be to spar with each other.

“All of you grab a sword and partner up!” he says as he walks through the bustling crowd of soldiers. He continues to instruct them as they all rush toward the giant chest of wooden training swords. “Practice improvising and thinking on your feet. You never know what the enemy will throw at you. Don’t move through your sword motions awkwardly – make sure to flow, connecting each move. And pay attention to your footwork…”

“You wanna partner up, Link?”

The Commander’s voice fades from his focus, Pipit’s voice replacing it. Link finishes pulling his tunic back on to see Pipit in front of him, holding two training swords – one for himself and one for Link.

Link gives him a small smile and nods, taking the sword.

“Great. Let’s find a good spot.”

They walk through the crowd of soldiers until they reach open space. Pipit leads Link to the edge of the courtyard where the trees cast some shade down. The air is much cooler here than under the hot sun.

Zelda is still there, sitting under one of the trees. Although, she is too far away to hear them speak.

“Hello Princess!” Pipit shouts so his voice can reach her. “Mind if we use this space?”

“Not at all!” The princess calls back to them.

Pipit turns back to Link, his voice returning to a normal volume. “Now she has front-row seats to watch you kick my ass.”

Link huffs a small laugh. He shakes his head, waving off his words.

“What?” Pipit says, hitting his sword against Link’s teasingly. “You think only Groose notices? I’m covering for you so he won’t bother you as much, but even I can tell you like her, Link.”

Link’s eyes darken at that. His face falls to look much more serious. He shakes his head again, but this time he means it more like a warning – do not discuss this. It is disgraceful to discuss this.

“Alright, alright. Fine.” Pipit holds up his hands, surrendering. “I get it. You don’t wanna talk about it. All I’m saying is that I saw you doing one-handed pull-ups shirtless while she watched. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you loverboy?”

Link’s mind reels with deja vu. His hand shoots up to hold his head, suddenly dizzy. He sways on his feet. He’s heard Pipit say that before.

“Whoa, Link, you okay there?”

Link steadies himself and nods. He holds his sword out at the ready. His Commander has ordered him to practice sparring, so that is what he shall do. He will not think of anything else. He will only focus on the present moment, on the opponent in front of him.

Pipit chuckles. “I hope you didn’t overwork yourself while strength training, because I’m not going easy on you!”

Their swords clash, and Link sinks into the flow of combat.

This – this is where Link feels most at home. His eyes are alert and calculating as they flick over Pipit, reading his form to see what move he will make next. Link parries the incoming attack perfectly, then lunges forward with his own. His mind is completely zeroed in on the fight. He is in control of his entire body – paying attention to every muscle he moves, keeping his footwork balanced. He keeps his breathing steady, exhaling with each thrust of his sword. He moves so expertly that it’s almost graceful, like a dancer. But at the same time, he swings his sword with such a raw, powerful strength. Even though it is not the Master Sword, it still feels like an extension of his own arm.

This is where his mind is truly at peace – when he is entirely focused on the fight in front of him. He is doing what he was made to do.

It’s not long before he’s disarmed Pipit and knocked him to the ground. He holds the tip of his wooden blade just above his neck.

Pipit smiles. “Was I at least a little better than the last time I sparred against you?”

Link snaps out of his battle-induced trace. After re-processing what Pipit asked him, he nods, smiling politely.

“I feel like you’re lying, but I’ll take it.” Pipit chuckles.

Link moves his sword out of the way, then reaches down to Pipit with his other hand. Pipit grabs his wrist, and Link pulls him up back onto his feet.

As Pipit dusts himself off, another voice approaches them.

“Hello, Princess! Enjoying the show?”

Both Link and Pipit let out groans of annoyance as Groose approaches them, waving to Zelda in the distance. He’s followed by Cawlin and Stritch, who are waving just as enthusiastically.

The princess gives a small, polite wave back. Groose beams at her.

“Groose, Link and I are sparring. Please go bother someone else,” Pipit says.

“Oh no no no!” Groose holds his wooden sword out, pointing it at Link. “You’ve already had your turn. Now it is my turn to challenge Link!”

He is using his overly-dramatic tone of voice, speaking loudly so the princess will hear him. Pipit and Link exchange a look of second-hand embarrassment.

“What? Are you a coward, Hero of Hyrule?” Groose taunts. “Have you realized you are no match for the mighty Groose?”

Normally, Link would just ignore him and continue to spar with Pipit.

But the princess is watching him. He can’t back down from the challenge now.

Link turns to Groose with a determined glint in his eyes. He steps back into a fighting stance.

Groose grins wildly, like he didn’t expect to get this far. “Great! Excellent! Oh, you better be ready! You won’t know what hit you!”

He lunges forward, and the duel starts.

Link lets the rush of battle wash over him again, clearing his mind of anything else other than this fight. He stays light on his feet, moving so fast that Groose can barely keep up with him. His every move is precise and calculated, eyes searching for openings for his attacks – there, at the shoulder, and there, at the legs. Groose is only able to block him half the time, but he is a big man, so he doesn’t go down easily. And in sparring matches like this, the fight is not over until one of the fighters is knocked to the ground.

As the fight goes on longer, more soldiers join Pipit, Cawlin, and Stritch watching them until a small crowd has formed. They all make noises reacting to each move of the duel – ‘oh’s and ‘ooo’s and ‘ah’s. But Link pays them no mind, remaining focused on the fight in front of him.

That is, until he isn’t.

Link makes one particularly forceful attack, and a thought drifts up from the back of his subconscious and into the forefront of his mind – ‘This is what Groose deserves for always bullying me and my Loftwing.’

And dizziness washes over him.

What’s a Loftwing?

His stance falters, and Groose takes the opportunity to swing at him. Link staggers on his feet, but catches himself before he can fall over. The crowd around them erupts into noise, shocked.

Link pushes the thoughts away. He pushes away the strange out-of-body feeling that comes with them. A dream – it was just a dream, he tells himself. He forces his focus to return to the real world in front of him.

No distractions. Follow orders. Perfect soldier.

He ends the battle quickly after that – dodging around Groose’s next attack until he is behind them, then landing his final blow. Link knocks Groose down onto his stomach, training sword clattering out of his hand.

The crowd cheers, but Link doesn’t pay attention to them. Cawlin and Stritch rush to Groose’s side and help him up. He’s moping, wallowing in his defeat as dramatically as he does anything else.

Then something moves in Link’s peripheral vision. He is still alert from the battle, so his head whips around to face it—

But it is just the princess.

Immediately, Link kneels, and the crowd quiets down as they realize what is happening. On one knee, Link bows his head, holding his training sword in front of him so the tip of its wooden blade touches the ground.

In the air’s new silence, Zelda’s voice is clear above him.

“Rise, my knight.”

A shiver runs down Link’s spine.

The princess has never addressed him by his title before.

He obeys her, as he always does. He stands up onto his feet, settling into parade rest.

When he looks up, Zelda is smiling at him.

“It’s almost time for me to have dinner with my father,” she says, loud enough for everyone to hear. “I’m afraid this is where I must take my leave. Thank you all for allowing me to watch you train today.”

The crowd all starts to speak over each other, all giving the princess their most heartfelt goodbyes. Groose picks himself off the ground and joins in the noise, but his loss has taken some of his confidence out of him.

Zelda waves to them all and starts walking away. Link follows her, as he always does.

As they get further away, they start to hear Pipit and Groose’s voices behind them.

Pipit laughs. “Now, why’d you do that, man? You knew Link would beat you.”

“Blah blah blah, ‘why’d you do that’?” Groose mocks Pipit back in a high-pitched voice. “Please, a true warrior never backs down from a fight, especially to win the heart of his most beloved!”

“Back down? You’re the one who challenged Link?”

“I’m about to challenge you in a minute!”

“You’re on, then! C’mon! Let’s go!”

There are then scuffling sounds, and the crowd erupts into noise again, egging the fight on.

The princess laughs, aloud and openly.

Link looks over at her, eyebrows raised. She has been laughing more often these days. It is… nice. But still, it is surprising.

“Sorry,” Zelda says when she regains her composure. “I just… I never expected your friends would be so… immature.” Quickly, she adds, “I don’t mean that as an insult! Just as… an observation. Especially when compared to you.”

Link looks over his shoulder, back at his friends. Groose and Pipit seem to have abandoned their wooden swords and are now wrestling on the ground.

He turns back to face forward again, continuing to walk at the princess’s side.

“They can afford to act as they do.” His voice is grave. “Their problems are smaller than mine.”

It takes a moment for the princess to respond. The emotion on her face… is something Link can’t quite place. He hopes it is not pity.

“…Right.” she says. “I understand.”

They walk in silence for a while longer. It is not awkward. They have walked together in silence many times now. They are used to it.

When they have almost reached the castle again, Zelda pipes up again. “May I ask you a personal question?”

Link’s eyes flick over to her. He does not speak. He just gives her a small nod.

“Why am I the only person you choose to speak to?”

Link tries not to tense at the question. His gaze shifts away, keeping his eyes forward again. He straightens his posture, makes himself look more put-together than he actually feels.

It is a rather personal question, but he is alright with answering it – only because his princess is the one who’s asking.

“You and I, Your Highness – we share the same burden.” He doesn’t look at her as he speaks, too nervous to look her in the eyes. “It is both our destinies to defeat the Calamity. I…” He trails off, searching for the right words to express his thoughts. “…I do not need to hide from you.”

He does not look at her. He does not see her reaction.

When she speaks again, he can hear the smile in her words.

“I appreciate it,” she says. “Really, I do.”

He gives a small bow of his head, too flustered to respond with words. He steps forward and opens the castle door.

Zelda does not walk inside just yet. Her gaze fixed on the sun setting on the horizon.

After a moment, Link carefully asks, “Princess?”

“Sorry, I was just thinking.” She looks over her shoulder at him, then turns back to the sky. “It’s going to be another full moon tonight. My father thinks it will be another blood moon.”

Link’s whole body freezes.

The beautiful blues and purples of the Astral Observatory turn blood red. Debris falls from the ceiling. Ganon stares at him with bright red eyes—

“Link?”

He flinches, focusing back into the reality in front of him. His muscles are no less tense.

“I asked if you… if you’d like to join me for dinner tonight.” The princess looks sheepish. “It would be nice to have someone else join me at the table besides my father.”

Link’s mind is still reeling from the memory of his nightmare. He barely even registers the fact that he will be allowed to dine at the same table as the royal family, rather than eat off to the side with the other guards on duty.

“I— I would be honored, Your Highness,” he finally stutters out.

The princess smiles at him, then finally enters the castle.

Link follows her, closing the door behind him. As he walks beside her to the dining hall, his mind can’t help but drift off into his thoughts again.

Another blood moon will surely come with another nightmare, where he will be thrown into another eerily-familiar place and time. Just the thought of it makes him start to feel dizzy already.

What was it the mask salesman had told him before?

To have to repeat this cycle time and time again. I do not envy your curse.

You’ve met with a terrible fate, haven’t you?

Chapter Text

The weeks go by. Link is always at Zelda’s side.

He accompanies her to Goron City, where he slays many enemies that cross their path. There are many more monsters wandering around then there used to be, even weeks after a blood moon. He also follows her on her field research missions, and he’s there to listen to her talk about her findings. On one journey where she’s documenting wildlife with her Sheikah Slate, she tells him about her favorite flower, the Silent Princess. She also tries to get him to eat a frog. Link politely refuses, even though he finds it quite adorable how Zelda rambles about the frog’s positive benefits.

He pushes the word ‘adorable’ far away into the recesses of his mind. It is not his place to think such things about the princess.

Zelda told him, after watching him and the other soldiers train, that she’s been more determined to unlock her magic sealing powers. She was inspired by how hard they all worked that day, and how motivated they were to fight the Calamity. The princess said she was inspired to work just as hard, too.

Link wanted to say then that he thought Zelda already worked harder than anyone else in Hyrule, but he stayed silent.

That is how Link found himself accompanying the princess on a trip to the Great Hyrule Forest to visit the Great Deku Tree. It has been a few weeks since Zelda observed the soldier’s training session, as she has been quite busy with her many royal duties – especially since it feels like the Calamity is getting nearer and nearer, evidenced by the increased monsters and more frequent blood moons. But recently, she had the idea that the Great Deku Tree could give her some more advice on how to unlock her powers. She’s asked before – of course she has, many times – but perhaps this time it will be different, and something will work.

Link sits beside the princess in her carriage. The wooden wheels roll unevenly across the forest floor as the driver navigates to the center of the woods. Link keeps track of any sudden movements that may occur outside the windows, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword just in case.

The previous night, he had another dream. Like usual, it was cloudy and he doesn’t completely remember it, but what he does remember is a voice – a high-pitched voice calling out to him, begging for his attention; “Hey, listen! Hey! Hey, look! Listen!”

It was so familiar, yet Link can’t quite put his finger on where he’s heard that voice before, or who it belonged to. Perhaps it is the fabled voice inside the Master Sword that the princess told him about? He doesn’t know.

Still, he chooses to interpret the dream as a message for him to stay alert.

“Look! Watch out! Hey, look! Listen!”

“We’re here.”

Link snaps out of his reverie at the sound of the princess’s voice. He frowns at himself. How could he allow himself to get lost in his thoughts like that? He was just telling himself how he needs to stay alert.

He nods and exits the carriage with Zelda. It is midday, and the air is comfortably warm. The forest is lush and green around them, crowded with ancient trees, large ferns, and beautiful flowers. Golden rays of light stream through the branches above them, dappling the grass below their feet.

The princess walks ahead, and Link follows just a couple paces behind her. He tries to stay focused on being here, being vigilant to any possible danger.

The sound of their footsteps change as they move from the grass to a flat stone platform that Link once retrieved the Master Sword from, seven years ago.

And in front of that, the Great Deku Tree stands tall, towering higher than any other tree in the forest. His branches are overflowing with thousands of tiny pale pink flowers. Some of their petals drift through the air, carried by the gentle breeze.

Little creatures made of wood and wearing masks made of leaves are hidden up in the petal-covered branches. Link has noticed them ever since he was a young boy, but he’s never heard anyone else mention them before.

“Ahh,” the Great Deku Tree’s deep voice rumbles to life. The branches that form his eyebrows sway as his gaze shifts downwards at the approaching Hylians. He speaks slow, deliberate. “Princess Zelda of Hyrule. And Link, wielder of the sacred sword. What brings you to my forest?”

“Great Deku Tree,” the princess addresses him formally, “I have come to ask you once again for your advice. You are the oldest spirit in Hyrule, and imbued with magic just as ancient. Please help me to unlock the magic of my bloodline.”

The Great Deku Tree laughs, the reverberations of which resonate in his roots as if they were his chest cavity. It makes the ground shake slightly. “Princess, I have taught you all I can. Now, it is up to you.”

“I am trying,” Zelda’s voice is strained, “but nothing seems to work, no matter what. Please, you must help me…”

Link tunes out their conversation, instead choosing to focus on being on guard. He keeps his back straight, his hand resting on the sacred sword. His eyes scan the treeline, looking into the shadows between the huge trunks.

He sees no enemies. Instead, in the darkness, there are some little floating lights, dancing through the air and weaving through the branches. Fairies, Link realizes.

Everyone else has a fairy except for me…

He shakes his head, startled. Where did that thought come from? What was that supposed to mean?

That’s when a dull pain starts to throb around his temples. Link bites back a groan, not wanting to appear unprofessional in front of the princess.

He tries to return to scanning the treeline for potential threats, but he can’t focus with this headache. More thoughts come unbidden from somewhere in the back of his mind – words and phrases and voices, until they grow into images and visions.

He starts to feel very dizzy…

“Hey! Listen!”

He is just a boy, and yet he has to pick up a sword and shield.

“Thy slumber these past moons must have been restless, and full of nightmares…”

The Great Deku Tree opens his mouth, revealing the curse inside.

“The future depends upon thee, Link… Thou art courageous…”

The Great Deku Tree wheezes his last breath. His bark turns dark gray like smoke. His leaves crumble and fall like ashes.

“We’ll be friends forever… won’t we?”

A girl with green hair. He is leaving. He has just watched the Great Deku Tree die, and he is given no time to mourn the spirit who raised him. He must leave. He must go to the castle.

He is just a boy.

“Link!”

Link does not remember falling to the ground. His knees hurt where they landed on hard stone, and the palms of his leather gloves have been scuffed against the craggy surface. His head still swims. His breathing is fast and shallow.

And his heart aches, aches, aches.

He is filled with a grief so real and so tangible, yet so foreign and far away. It shudders through his body like the chill of the snowy Hebra mountains. A cry rips itself free from his mouth before he can stop it – a sharp, keening sound. He feels empty, empty, as if a piece of his heart has been ripped from him. He has not felt grief this strong since his own father passed away. The feeling is so all-consuming, he feels as if he’s drowning in it.

There are… There are tears in his eyes —

“Link, are you alright?”

The princess is kneeling beside him. She puts a hand on his shoulder. Unthinkingly, in a motion as quick as lightning, Link’s hand reaches up to grab it. He grips it like a lifeline – too tight, but he is not paying attention.

“Link! Can— Can you hear me? You need to breathe.”

Link manages to sluggishly nod his head. It makes some of his tears shake loose. The drops of water darken the stone beneath him.

He tries to control his breaths. Inhale, and exhale. In for four counts, hold, out for four counts, hold – just like how he was taught during his training. A good soldier is in control of himself, of both his body and mind.

What kind of soldier is he, behaving in this way?

“Link, you’re crying —”

He shakes his head. With his hand that’s not holding the princess’s, he quickly wipes away his tears. He sits up onto his knees.

His eyes focus, and he sees the Great Deku Tree in front of him, alive and well.

And in the very next moment, the overwhelming grief disappears from him like a candle being snuffed out. The ache in his chest just… leaves, just as quickly as it had come.

 The dizziness finally fades completely, and the first thing he notices is that he is holding the princess’s hand.

He flinches away from her as if her hand were a hot iron. He wants to apologize, but he doesn’t want to speak – not now, not in front of the Great Deku Tree, and certainly not after what has just happened. He does not wish to burden the princess with his nonsensical visions.

“Link…” She stares at him with a look he knows all too well by now – the look she gets when analyzing an unknown piece of technology. When she speaks again, her words are stilted and unsure. “Are you… okay?”

Link nods, pulling himself onto his feet. He stands in parade rest again and is content to forget anything unusual has just happened.

The Great Deku Tree wheezes his last breath. His bark turns dark gray like smoke. His leaves crumble and fall like ashes —

He closes his eyes. Inhale for four counts, hold, exhale for four counts, hold.

It was not real. Just a dream – a waking dream.

“Hmm. I see now,” the Great Deku Tree’s voice breaks the tense silence. “Yes, I understand. Princess, I now know what I must tell you.”

“What?” Zelda turns to face him. “Please, anything. What is your wisdom, Great Deku Tree?”

“You must go to the Temple of Time,” he answers her. “There, you must sleep through the night while under its roof.”

“The Temple of Time, up on the Great Plateau?” The princess’s eyebrows furrow inwards. “I’ve… I’ve prayed there before, but I’ve never spent the night. You’re sure this will help me?”

“I do not know if your magic will be unlocked there. But I do know that it will bring you one step closer to your goal.” The branches of the Great Deku Tree’s eyebrows shift, their pink flowers rustling in the wind. “And, I know it will bring you closer to your destiny, too – he who wields the Master Sword.”

Another shiver of deja vu goes down Link’s spine, just for a brief moment – aftershocks from before. The Great Deku Tree is sending him on a mission to go somewhere – this is not the first time this has happened, he knows it. He knows it.

He is leaving, and he is given no time to mourn —

What had that vision been? What did it mean? How was it able to make him so unbearably sad?

What if it was a vision of the future? What if when the day of the Calamity finally arrives, Ganon kills the Great Deku Tree?

But… no, it can’t be. In his vision, he was a young boy. But it was not a memory of his childhood. It was… something else.

Some one else.

Link is pretty sure he knows what is going on. In all honesty, he’s been pretty sure for a long time now. He’s been having these dreams and dizzy spells long enough to be able to put the pieces together. He knows what these visions are. He knows where they must be from. All the clues point toward one, obvious answer.

But that answer is too much for him to think about right now. He doesn’t want to think about it. The very idea of it makes him feel dissociated from his own body – as if he’s trapped inside his skin, as if his face were an irremovable mask.

The next thing he knows, the princess is turning around and walking away. She must have already said her thanks and goodbyes.

Link’s hands ball into fists at his sides, mentally cursing at himself. He can’t believe how often he’s been getting lost in his thoughts today. He hastily bows to the Great Deku Tree, then follows the princess.

As they walk amongst the trees back to their carriage, Zelda gives him a worried look. “Are you sure you’re okay, Link? If you’re sick, you should rest. My father won’t be angry at you if you need to take a few days off to recover—”

Link shakes his head, lifting his hand to wave her words away. “I am not sick. You do not need to worry about me, Princess.”

“Then what happened back there?”

Link hesitates. “I lost my balance. Nothing more.”

“You were crying.”

Link shuts his mouth, then pulls his gaze away from her. He focuses his eyes ahead as he walks. He does not know how to respond, so he will not speak. That’s what he’s used to, anyway. Not speaking is what he’s good at. A soldier does not need to speak or think or feel or mourn. He just needs to do his job.

“Link, look at me.”

That is a direct order from his princess. Even if he is hesitant, he will always obey her.

He meets her eyes again.

“Remember what you told me before? Back when I watched the soldiers train?” Zelda says to him. “We share the same destiny. You do not need to hide from me.”

That may be true, Link thinks to himself. But this… this is nothing like the princess has experienced. She does not need to know about it. She does not need even more stressful thoughts added to her mind.

Zelda sighs. “If you don’t want to tell me, that’s alright. I would be a hypocrite if I didn’t allow you to have your own privacy. But just know that you can talk to me about anything that troubles you. Alright?”

Link nods, looking away again.

The princess’s words are kind, and he is grateful. But will bear this burden on his own.

When they arrive back at the carriage, Link holds the door open for Zelda, and they return to the castle.

—— ▴△▴ ——

“I have decided that Link and I will go to the Temple of Time alone,” Zelda tells her father.

They are in his war room. It has only been a day since she returned from the Great Deku Tree, and soon she will be leaving the castle yet again.

As always, Link is standing guard at the door.

Her father’s back is to her. Instead, he looks over a map of Hyrule laid out across the table. The map is huge, covering the entirety of the table’s surface, with various metal coins scattered across it to represent Hylian troops. He is just about to have a meeting with Commander Eagus and some other high-ranked officers, but Zelda reached him first.

After Zelda speaks, her father is silent for a long while. The air is tense as she tries to prepare for any possible response – an angry outburst, a condescending remark, or some kind of thinly-veiled threat for her to do as he commands.

When her father finally speaks, it is none of those things. He just sounds exhausted.

He sighs, still looking down at the map. “You are staying the night, are you not?”

“I am,” Zelda says back. She holds her chin high, even though her father cannot see her face. “But it is only one night, and the Great Plateau is not far from the castle. I don’t think it’s necessary for me to bring a caravan of supplies and servants.”

Another silence. Zelda shifts on her feet.

“You should at least bring extra guards,” he finally says. “It is getting much more dangerous out there.”

“I’m confident Link can handle it.” Zelda looks over her shoulder to where the aforementioned knight is standing by the door. When she turns back towards her father, a bit more passive-aggression has entered her tone. “After all, he’s the most skilled soldier in our army. That’s why you assigned him as my knight, isn’t it?”

“Quiet,” her father growls. “I’ve had enough of those kinds of comments from you.”

“My point still stands.”

Another pause, and then finally her father faces her. Even his movements look exhausted – slowly turning around, his feet dragging. Now that she can see his face, she sees bags under his eyes.

Despite herself, Zelda grows concerned. “Are you alright, father?”

“I am as alright as I can be with war on the horizon,” he replies.

Zelda chooses to ignore the hidden message in his words – ‘as alright as I can be knowing my daughter cannot seal away the enemy that will one day destroy us all.’

Zelda straightens her posture, still holding her chin high.

Her father clears his throat. “What about while you sleep? You’ll need extra guards then, or do you expect Link to stay awake for 48 hours straight?”

“The Temple of Time has its own security detail,” Zelda fires back. “It’s a historical landmark, after all. The building is very well kept. They have a very large staff on hand.”

Her father stares at her. Zelda stares at him back, unfaltering.

Until finally, he concedes.

With another sigh, he turns back towards the map. “Do as you wish.”

—— ▴△▴ ——

The next morning after breakfast, Zelda and Link walk down to the castle’s stables to get their horses.

Zelda’s horse is a large white stallion, given to her by her father years ago. She had named him Storm because he reminded her of a bright flash of lightning. Little did she know he’d have a stormy disposition to match.

“Stay still!” she hisses as she tries to climb up onto his saddle. Storm darts around, trying to get away from her, pulling at the reins in her hands. He holds his neck straight up, his head shaking around wildly and his ears pinned back. “Stop— moving around so much! C’mon—”

“Your Highness?” the stablehand girl pipes up from the corner of the stall. “Would you like some help?”

“No thank you, Ilia,” Zelda says to her as politely as she can while in her frustrated state. “I— I’ve got it. He’s always like this. I just need to—”

That’s when Link enters her line of sight. He had been waiting somewhere in front of Storm’s stall, already astride Epona’s back. But now he’s on his feet again and rushing inside.

“Link, it’s alright, I just—”

Link ignores her and intervenes. He stands in front of Storm, holding out his hands with his palms up. He says no words, but he makes soft shushing sounds under his breath. When Storm finally gives him his full attention, Link slowly reaches for his bridle, making no sudden movements. He gently directs Storm’s head downward and pets his face. Eventually, Storm stops pulling away and settles down.

Zelda would almost be offended that Link ignored her if she wasn’t so mesmerized by the miraculous feat he just accomplished.

“Nice job, Sir Link.” Ilia walks over to his side.

Link smiles and bows his head in thanks, and something twinges in Zelda’s chest. Annoyance, surely – she could’ve handled her horse herself. She didn’t need Link to show off.

“Yes, thank you, Link,” Zelda says, her tone clipped. She easily hops onto Storm’s saddle now that he’s calm. “I suppose we’re ready to leave now.”

Link nods, then guides Storm by his lead-rope to coax him out of his stall. Storm slowly trots along, following him.

“Epona’s been doing very well, Sir Link,” Ilia walks by his side, “I wanted to tell you that her arrow puncture wound is completely healed now, but I’m sure you’ve already noticed. Your bond with her is very strong.”

Link smiles again, nodding along. He gestures a hand at Ilia, acknowledging her.

“Me? Oh, well, yes. I’d say Epona and I are good friends. But she’s your horse, Sir Link. I can see in her eyes that she respects you more than anyone.”

Zelda is growing impatient. Yes, that’s it. She wants to get to the Temple of Time as quickly as she can, impatient to see if she will finally unlock her powers there.

That’s all this is. That’s all the strange feeling in her chest is. Nothing more.

They’ve reached Epona’s side now. Link lets go of Storm’s lead-rope and hops onto Epona’s saddle, petting down her neck as he does so.

“Be safe, Sir Link,” Ilia says. “Even though she’s all healed now, please be careful with her.”

Link nods, continuing to pet Epona’s mane.

Then Ilia turns to Zelda and bows. “You be safe too, Princess. I hope your journey is an easy one.”

Zelda smiles politely, expertly covering up the turmoil of feelings burning inside her. “Thank you, Ilia. You deserve a long rest after doing so much hard work for us today. You’re dismissed.”

“Thank you so much, Your Highness.” Ilia bows again, then turns to leave. Over her shoulder, she waves to Link as she walks away.

Link waves back.

Just impatient. Nothing more.

“Let’s go, Link.” Zelda lightly taps the side of Storm’s body with her foot. He whinnies and doesn’t move at first, but Zelda taps his side with her foot again and soon he’s obediently trotting forward. See? She knows what she’s doing.

Link guides Epona over to Storm’s side. They move toward the gate of the large fence surrounding the stables, settling into their usual comfortable silence.

Zelda’s annoyance still lingers, even though she knows she’s in the wrong about it. She shouldn’t be annoyed. Ilia is a nice girl – just a year younger than Zelda, with light blond hair and large green eyes. She’s very sweet and kind-hearted, and a very good stablehand as well.

…Why does thinking about how nice and kind Ilia is just make her feel more annoyed?

Her mind replays what just happened over and over – the way Link smiled at Ilia, the way he was so friendly with her, the way Ilia looked at him with those green doe-eyes.

The strange feeling in her chest grows.

I am not jealous, she tells herself sternly.

Jealous. What a ridiculous notion.

“He knows you’re nervous.”

Zelda snaps out of her thoughts and looks over at Link. “Hm? Sorry?”

“Storm,” Link clarifies, nodding his head towards her white horse. “He knows you’re nervous when you approach him. That’s why he was behaving the way he was.”

“…I see.” As happy as Zelda is to hear Link speak to her without being spoken to first, she doesn’t quite understand what he means. “How does he know such a thing?”

“Horses are very intelligent. They can tell.”

“Really?”

Link nods.

“Well then, why would me being nervous make him misbehave?”

“He’s not being difficult just to spite you, Princess. He’s just scared.”

“He’s nervous that I’m nervous?”

“Yes,” Links says plainly, his face blank.

Zelda still doesn’t understand, and she hates not understanding. “How does that work?”

“If he sees you’re unsure of yourself, then he can’t trust you to keep him safe while you ride him,” Link explains. “Horses are powerful creatures, but they are still prey animals. They require a lot of reassurance and trust. You need to soothe him – both in order to calm him, and to show him that you are calm as well.”

Zelda glances down at Storm. Hesitantly, she pets down his neck in the way she’s seen Link do to Epona. She feels Storm relax under her hand.

“Surely it’s not good to pet him too often,” Zelda says – almost as if reassuring herself, not wanting to admit she’s been doing the wrong thing all this time. “I don’t want to spoil him. Shouldn’t he have to earn rewards like that?”

“Basic care is not a reward,” Link says simply.

Zelda looks up at him, an old fear sparking to life within her – scared to see if there is judgment in Link’s eyes. But there is not. His face is just as blank and stoic as ever.

Basic care is not a reward. Interesting. Zelda thinks that should’ve been obvious to her, but surprisingly it’s not.

Perhaps that’s because basic care and love had always seemed like a reward while she was raised by her father. A reward she often struggled to earn.

Zelda shakes her head. She doesn’t want to think about that now.

“How long have you known Ilia?” she asks Link suddenly.

It’s just a casual question – something to distract her mind from the thoughts of her father and her childhood. She’s just curious. Nothing more.

Link looks over at her. She can tell he didn’t expect the question, his brows creasing in confusion. “Since I was young, Your Highness.”

“Interesting. How— How so?”

“Her father is the stablemaster. My father was a knight. We were both raised on the castle grounds expecting to fill their shoes one day.”

“I-I see. So you two… know each other well?”

Confusion is still clear on Link’s face. “Yes. She is my friend.”

Zelda palms are sweating. She decides to not pursue this line of questioning any further. It’s just upsetting her.

“Is something the matter, Princess?”

“No, it’s nothing!” She blurts out. She can hear her heart beating in her ears. “I’m just— still nervous, like you said. I’ll admit horseback riding is a bit nerve-racking for me. I’m much more used to carriages.”

Link looks at her with such kind, genuine eyes. “Don’t worry, Princess. I’ll make sure you’re safe.”

Zelda hopes the blush she feels rising onto her face is not too visible. “Th-Thank you, Link. I— Thank you.”

“Of course,” Link says. “I am sworn to protect you.”

She lets those words linger in her mind, and they seem to keep any previous unpleasant thoughts away.

—— ▴△▴ ——

When they leave the grounds of Hyrule Castle, they exit on the west side through the First Gatehouse, then pass by the Water Reservoir and the Quarry before they reach the main road again. It’s not the most glamorous route, but this way they can avoid walking through the busy streets of Hyrule Castle Town. As much as Zelda loves the citizens of her kingdom, she doesn’t want to draw a lot of attention to herself on this journey.

It takes the better part of the day to ride their horses through Hyrule Field, but it is a mostly peaceful journey. Link only has to shoot six bokoblins in total throughout the entire ride, his aim as straight and true as ever.

Still, six bokoblins is many more than they would’ve run into a few months ago.

By the late evening, they arrive at the looming walls of the Great Plateau. Stone structures have been built directly into the plateau’s steep cliffs – tall columns and pointed arches, decorating it as if the plateau was a castle itself.

At the main entrance, Zelda and Link wave to the guards stationed there, then walk up the stairway to the top of the plateau, continuing along the road there.

The Temple of Time is a sight to behold.

Zelda looks up as she comes face to face with the ancient building. Its stone bricks are worn and faded in color, with some vines of deep emerald-green leaves crawling up the exterior walls – but other than that, the building is in great shape. Its three tall spires scrape the golden evening sky above. The front entrance is truly a grand entrance, with huge doors topped with pointed archivolts and a gable with the symbol of the Triforce carved into it.

There, Zelda is greeted by more guards, as well as the priests and priestesses who run the temple. They show her and Link where they can keep their horses for the night, then usher them inside. They are very amicable, providing them with food and water after their long journey.

It is not long until the sun sets past the horizon, and Zelda is alone with Link in the nave of the temple.

“It is a rather beautiful building, isn’t it?” Zelda’s voice is soft in the quiet night, but it still echoes up into the high vaulted ceiling. The pale moonlight streams in through the tall lancet windows, illuminating silver across the stone tile floor.

She is met with no response other than the crickets chirping outside. She turns to face Link. Her knight stands motionless in the center of the nave, staring at the raised platform in which the large statue of the Goddess Hylia stands.

“Link?”

He startles, whipping his head around to meet her gaze.

Zelda’s eyes narrow. “Are you… alright?”

“Yes, Princess,” he says quickly.

She gives him a teasing look. “You know, since you’re so uptight about rules and protocols, one would think that you wouldn’t lie to me.”

Link looks away, his hand fidgeting with the hilt of the Master Sword. “…It was not a lie, Princess. I am alright.”

He pauses, looking around at the walls towering around them. His skin glows under the moonbeam shining on him through the nearby window, casting long shadows across the floor.

“But I do feel… a little uneasy, about this place,” he says finally. “That is all.”

Zelda’s surprised she actually got Link to admit what he was feeling. “I suppose all old buildings are a bit creepy,” she says, then chuckles. “Sometimes I even feel that way in Hyrule Castle, despite it being my home.”

Link doesn’t look like he hears her, his gaze lost and unfocused. It is very unlike him, which is worrisome to Zelda.

She takes a step towards him and calls to him again. “Link?”

“Did you hear that?” He looks at her suddenly. His face looks ghostly under the moonlight, eyes gleaming.

The worry inside Zelda grows. “Hear what?”

“I— I thought I heard a melody.” He scans the room again, searching for the source of the sound. “Just three notes, repeated. But only— only for a moment.”

Then he hums after that, deep and rumbling in his throat – one short note, then a longer one, then another short.

It is nothing Zelda recognizes. “I didn’t hear any melody, Link.” She takes another careful step toward him. “Are you sure you’re alright? Maybe the exhaustion of our journey is making you hear things.”

He doesn’t seem to register her words again. Instead, his gaze is lost up in the clerestory of the temple, still searching.

Zelda remembers, back at the Great Deku Tree, how Link had grabbed her hand. How he held on so tightly, it was as if he would be swept away by the waves of some invisible sea if he let go.

Perhaps… if a touch like that seemed to ground him before…

Zelda reaches up to touch the side of Link’s face, lightly cupping his jaw. She gently guides his face so that their eyes meet. He obediently follows her silent command.

She sees Link’s pupils dilate, focusing on her once again. His breath hitches.

She smiles at him. “Are you here with me, my knight?”

A pink blush rises to his cheeks, but Zelda doesn’t notice. The color is washed out by the silver of the moonlight.

“I— I apologize, Your— Your Highness,” Link stutters, stepping back away from her touch. “I don’t know— I don’t know what’s come over me.”

Zelda gives him a knowing look. “Is it the same thing that came over you when we met with the Great Deku Tree?”

Link stills, facing the statue of the Goddess again. He remains silent.

“Link, you can talk to me. I mean it.”

She sees Link take a deep, slow breath. Then another.

Zelda waits. When it comes to Link speaking freely to her, she is more patient than she’s ever been for anyone or anything else.

After a long moment, Link finally replies.

“I am…” He closes his eyes and takes one more slow breath. “I am… nervous. About sleeping here tonight.”

Zelda’s eyebrows rise. “Nervous?”

“Yes.” Link looks ashamed to have admitted it, his shoulders bunching around his neck, curling into himself. “I… I fear something unpleasant might happen.”

“There are guards surrounding this place,” Zelda says in her gentlest voice. Link’s done so much to help her. The least she can do is help him, too. “There’s no need to be worried. We are completely safe.”

“No, it’s not that. It’s…” Link sighs, then turns towards her again. He corrects his posture. “…It’s nothing, Your Highness. I am being foolish.”

“No you’re not. I understand, truly. Like I said before, old buildings can feel so creepy sometimes.” Zelda walks past him, over to the fur-lined sleeping bags they brought with them from Hyrule Castle, which now lay beside each other at the foot of the Goddess Statue. “No wonder there’s always so many ghost stories about them. It feels as if all the souls who ever passed through those doors are sneaking around in the shadows.”

Link glances around the room again. “…Yes. Something like that, Princess.”

Zelda smiles, then sits on her sleeping bag. “Come here.” She pats the ground beside her, hoping to keep Link’s focus before he gets lost in his mind again. “Whenever I get anxious, I find that distracting myself is the best solution. Let’s talk about something else. Something other than ghosts.”

Link nods and walks over to her obediently. He sits down on his sleeping bag – just a few feet away from Zelda’s.

“Let’s see now…” Zelda thinks of a better conversation topic, something that Link will enjoy talking about. “I know. Tell me about Epona. How long have you had her?”

“Around four years,” Link responds, voice unreadable. “I got her as soon as I was old enough.”

“Where did you get her?”

“Lon Lon Ranch.”

“Oh yes, I know that place. My father has bought their horses before. He says they’re all very strong. Good war horses. But I’ve heard the owner and his brother are… quite the characters, to say the least.”

“Yes, they are,” Link says, and Zelda’s grateful that her distractions seem to be working. “Luckily, I didn’t have to deal with them much. When I got Epona, I mostly spoke to the owner’s daughter, Malon.”

“I see.” Zelda can’t help but think to herself; another stable girl. I wonder if she looked at Link the same way Ilia does. But she quickly shakes the thought away.

She notices Link has that distracted look on his face again. She reaches over to touch his upper arm. “Link?”

“Hm?” His eyes dart down towards her hand, then up at her face. He doesn’t pull away from the touch this time.

Zelda hopes that it’s helping to ground him. “You were spacing out again.”

“Sorry,” Link says. He reaches up to rub his eyes. “I just… had a moment of deja vu. It’s nothing.”

“Alright. If you say so.” Zelda only half-believes him, but she doesn’t push. “I think you are getting tired. Let’s try to sleep.”

Link hesitates. When he eventually speaks again, his voice almost sounds defeated. Like he’s conceding – accepting the inevitable. “…I suppose so.”

They each get ready for bed separately, then meet back at their bedrolls to say their goodnights. Zelda closes her eyes, comfortable and warm against the fur of the sleeping bag. She hopes the Great Deku Tree is right, and that this will help her finally unlock her powers.

She also hopes that Link’s worries will fade from his thoughts, and that he will get a restful sleep.

—— ▴△▴ ——

Light.

There is a blinding flash of light as Link removes the Master Sword from the Pedestal of Time.

His vision swims, his eyes adjusting to the dim light of the Temple of Time once again. He is hesitant to look at his body, knowing it’ll make him queasy. But morbid curiosity wins over.

He looks down at himself – and sure enough, he has changed again.

He has returned to age twenty.

His green tunic is much larger than his previous one. His body is a man’s, not a boy’s. Fawn-like, lanky limbs have been replaced by lean muscle. His hand that holds the Master Sword is broad and strong, yet barely has any calluses – it has not wielded a sword for years, like his supposed age would suggest.

“Have you returned with the Lens of Truth?”

Link is still finding his bearings in his older body. Disorientated, he shakily looks around the Temple of Time, searching for where Sheik’s voice has just come from. The gray stone walls of the temple tower around him. The stained glass windows send beams of light down onto the clean floor, illuminating Link and the pedestal. He stands on a platform emblazoned with the symbol of the Triforce.

Finally, Link spots Sheik leaning against the wall, hidden in the shadows.

“Well?” the Sheikah man says, voice echoing across the nave.

Link takes a moment to steady himself, then nods.

“Good.” Sheik pushes himself away from the wall and walks toward Link, stepping into the light. He is wearing his usual blue outfit, his face obscured by his white scarves. “Play the Nocturne of Shadow. It will take you to the Shadow Temple. Go now, and save Impa.”

Silence. Link doesn’t take out his ocarina. He doesn’t move. He just looks down at the Master Sword in his hand.

“Link.” Sheik stays as patient as always, but it sounds like that patience is starting to wear thin. “You must go. Impa is the next of the six sages that you must rescue. There is no time to waste. Ganondorf is looking for you—”

“I almost didn’t come back, you know.”

Link sees how Sheik’s one unconcealed eye goes wide with shock. He has not heard Link speak before. Link hasn’t done much speaking since he started this whole adventure – it just felt easier to persevere through it all when he stayed silent. But Sheik has been the one person who has helped him along on this otherwise very lonely journey. Link trusts him. He trusts him to hear his voice – and more importantly, to hear his words.

“What do you mean?” Sheik asks, bewildered.

Link turns the Master Sword over in his hand, watching how the light reflects off the blade. “I almost… didn’t take the sword out again. Just… stayed in my time.”

Sheik does not respond right away. The air is quiet in the same way it is before a big thunderstorm – calm, but crackling with static, waiting for lightning to strike.

When Sheik finally speaks, his words are slow and carefully chosen. “And… why is that?”

Why do you think? Link wants to snap at him. Link wants to lash out and gnash his teeth. He wants to scream. He’s been holding so much inside himself for so long now. He is bursting at the seams.

“I do not belong here,” he says instead.

Again, Sheik hesitates for a moment. He is clearly out of his element here. “I… I can see how it would feel like that. But you understand this is what must be done.”

“Yes, I understand.” Link gives a small test-swing of the Master Sword. He almost stumbles, not used to keeping his balance in this body. He chuckles to himself, completely humorless. Sardonic. “It must be done.”

Link swings the sword again through the air again, this time at a downwards angle. It just barely grazes the side of the pedestal.

He could just put it back. He could put it back, and in an instant he would be home.

But what is home anymore? He is not a kokiri. The Great Deku Tree is dead.

A wave of grief washes over him. Like the tide, it pulls him into the sea of emotions he has kept buried.

Sheik’s unsure voice echoes through the temple again. “…Shall I remind you of the Nocturne of Shadow? I do not mind teaching you again—”

“Y’know this whole time,” Link interrupts, and oh goddesses his voice is so wobbly, so child-like despite its deep tenor tone, “I’ve been telling myself that I must do this for the greater good. I am the Hero of Time. I must save the world. But it… it still doesn’t feel real.”

“It is real. You are worthy of the title,” Sheik says firmly. It is an attempt at comfort, but it does not work. “The Master Sword has chosen you. You are worthy of wielding it.”

“I was not worthy of it seven years ago!”

Link cannot remember the last time he has ever raised his voice. It echoes loudly, bouncing off the walls of the temple. Wet tears slip down his cheeks. He can feel his heroic facade falling apart. He cannot keep these feelings contained behind his mask of silence anymore.

“I was too young! ” Link continues to shout, carelessly flailing the Master Sword around as he gestures with his hands. “I still am too young! While I was sealed in the Sacred Realm, my body grew, but I did not grow up! I still have the mind that I had when I was thirteen! This body— This body is not mine, Sheik! I don’t even recognize my own voice!”

His breathing gets faster, faster. Too fast. Panic races through his veins. He gasps for breath, his body beginning to tremble. His shaking hands drop the Master Sword. It clatters against the Triforce symbol engraved into the stone platform below him. He brings his hands up to cover his face, crying into his palms. He falls to his knees, his hiccuping sobs racking his shoulders.

He does not hear Sheik’s footsteps as he rushes closer. He barely registers Sheik’s hand on his shoulder – it barely even feels like his shoulder. This is not his body, after all.

This is not his body, his time, or his home. He misses the Great Deku Tree. He misses playing with Saria and the other kokiri. He misses Pipit and Commander Eagus and the other soldiers. He misses Zelda. He had grown to be such good friends with her. Where is she? He is her knight. He always must protect her. He must always—

His panic swells. He doesn’t recognize these thoughts.

They are not his. Now both his body and his mind are not his.

His panic spikes in his veins, sending his heart rate racing. It makes his sobs turn into screams of terror. He feels claustrophobic in his own skin, in his own brain – Who is this? Who am I? Which of these thoughts belong to me?

He wants to run away, but there is nowhere to run. He cannot run from himself.

“Link!” Link has never heard Sheik sound desperate like this. “Can— Can you hear me? You need to breathe.”

Zelda has said that to him before. Recently.

No she hasn’t. He hasn’t seen Zelda since she left Hyrule Castle, back in his time.

His time.

He screams again. He beats his fists against his legs. He looks like a child having a temper tantrum, but that’s exactly what he is. He is not twenty years old. This is not his body.

“Link, please—”

“I wanna go home!” He whines, petulant and immature. He wipes away his seemingly infinite tears. “I don’t— I don’t wanna do this anymore! I wanna be a kid again! I’m not ready for this! I’m not ready! ”

“Link…” Sheik’s voice sounds so much warmer than its usual serious tone. Link is too preoccupied with his own panicking mind to notice. “Link, you are so close to being done. You just need to rescue two more sages—”

“It’s too much! It’s all too much! ” He hiccups through another sob. “Hyrule Castle Town is completely deserted. My house in Kokiri Forest is too small for me. I don’t belong there anymore. My friends – basically my family – they don’t even recognize me! And the Great Deku Tree…” Grief chokes him. “He was— He was practically my father. And I just had to push down everything I felt when I lost him so I could continue on with my quest, like nothing had happened! I had to move on, I had to grow up, for the sake of the greater good! I just feel— I feel like I’m just a weapon, like a tool being used by the goddesses to carry out their will! I didn’t ask for this destiny! I don’t want it! ”

He doesn’t know what else to say, but his sobbing seems to never end. He cries and cries, the heart-wrenching sound echoing throughout the temple.

“I’m sorry.”

Link looks up at Sheik through his blurry vision.

“I… I don’t know how to help you,” Sheik says. His hand is still on Link’s shoulder. “But I am here. You don’t need to push this all down anymore. You can let it all out. I’ll be here to listen.”

“You can talk to me. I mean it.” That’s what she had said.

Link shakes the thoughts – both so foreign, yet so familiar – out of his head. “It won’t help,” he says. “Either way, I still need to save Hyrule.”

And goddesses, just the monumental pressure of that task makes Link’s shoulders tense up even more.

“Yes, you will have to,” Sheik says. “But maybe after you let this all out, it will be more bearable.”

“We share the same destiny,” she had repeated his own words back to him when they visited the Great Deku Tree. “You do not need to hide from me.”

These thoughts… they are his thoughts, and they are not at the same time.

But either way, they convince him.

Link gives in. He collapses against Sheik’s shoulder and continues to cry.

His head aches, feeling too crowded – too overwhelmed with fear and confusion and the pressure of his destiny. But he focuses on the sensations outside of his mind – the fabric of Sheik’s scarf against his forehead, the feeling of Sheik's hand rubbing his back to comfort him. He tries to focus on the touch, to let it ground him.

It works.

It works, perhaps a bit too much.

“Link…”

That is Sheik’s voice, but… different. Not as deep. Warmer. More feminine. And Sheik is right here, but this voice sounds so far away.

“Link!”

The hand on his back is no longer gentle and comforting. Now it is quick and frantic, shaking him.

“Link, wake up!”

He pulls his head away from Sheik’s shoulder, but before he can meet his eyes, his vision fades into darkness.

—— ▴△▴ ——

Link awakes soaked with sweat and tears.

His breathing is heavy and frantic, his chest heaving as he sits up on his bedroll. His mind takes some time to catch up to his body, his eyes flicking around the room. Where is he? Who is he?

“Link, it’s okay. It’s okay. I’m here.”

Sheik’s— No, Zelda’s voice is at his side. His brain slowly registers his surroundings – he is in the Temple of Time, but there is no Pedestal of Time to hold the Master Sword here, only a giant Goddess Statue that towers over him instead.

Right, he and Zelda had spent the night here. Now the pale yellow glow of morning light floods the windows.

He has had another dream.

“Link, can you hear me now?”

He pulls himself away from the princess’s touch, horrified. He never wanted her to see him in this state. He cannot burden her with this. She mustn’t see how weak her knight truly is.

Goddess, he is still crying.

“Link—”

“M’fine,” Link forces out, his words slurred from the panic and from just waking. He wipes away his tears and shuts his eyes tight, turning all his attention to regaining control of his breathing. Now that he is aware of himself again, he knows how to take care of this. Inhale 1-2-3-4, hold 1-2-3-4 exhale 1-2-3-4, hold 1-2-3-4—

“My knight, you’re shaking—”

“Just a nightmare, Princess,” he pushes the words out quickly. His tone is firm and strong now, despite the shaking his princess has noticed. He forbids his voice from expressing any more of his weakness. “I know how to handle this. Do not worry about me.”

“O-Okay…”

He hates how concerned the princess sounds. He has made her worried. She is trying to take care of him now, when that is not her job. It is his job to take care of her.

But she had been right. He can feel himself shaking. He clenches all the muscles in his body as tightly as he can, then relaxes them with another exhale. It helps. The shaking decreases.

These are self-soothing methods taught to soldiers to prevent panic in the heat of battle. They are quick, efficient. They do their job.

But Link is not on the battlefield. All he’s done is dream.

What kind of soldier is he, behaving in this way?

It takes a couple more minutes until Link’s heartbeat settles at a steady pace again, and his trembling body has calmed down into someone much more manageable. When it’s all over, Link opens his eyes again, but he cannot bring himself to look at the princess.

The temple is silent. Dust particles dance in the morning sunbeams streaming through the windows.

“Link?”

He does not look at her. He does not speak. He just nods to acknowledge that he heard her.

Zelda hesitates. “Are you… feeling better?”

Another nod.

“…What happened in your nightmare?”

“Nothing,” Link intones, almost spitting the words out – disgusted with himself. “I— I barely remember it.”

That is a lie. He has never had a dream as intense as that before. He remembers every single moment of it as if it were one of his own memories.

But he will not burden the princess with this. He cannot. The princess may be special to him, but this burden is his to bear, and his alone. He will not speak of it to her.

He still does not meet her gaze. But when she speaks again, he can tell that she doesn’t believe him.

“Alright. If you say so.”

There is the sound of the shifting of a bedroll’s furs, then footsteps against the stone floor as Zelda stands. Link keeps his eyes trained on the ground.

“I’m going to get changed into my traveling clothes,” her voice comes from somewhere beside him. “…You should relax, Link. I can pack our things—”

“No, I’ve got it.” Link stumbles to his feet, beginning to roll his sleeping bag up. “You go ahead. I’ll take care of this.”

“Are you sure—”

“I’m fine, Princess.” He realizes how rude he is being – interrupting his princess, lying to her. But he can’t help it. He wants to move on from this moment. He wants the princess to forget what she saw.

“O-Okay, Link. I’ll be back soon.”

Zelda footsteps pad across the stone, fading into nothing as she walks into the back room of the temple, leaving him alone.

Link continues to pack, still focusing on keeping his breathing steady. He wants to leave this cage of a temple and finally go back home.

“I wanna go home! I don’t— I don’t wanna do this anymore!”

Link winces at the memory, a sharp pain blooming in the back of his head.

Just a dream. Just a dream. Not a memory.

His hands start shaking again as panic tries to crawl its way back into his veins.

“I feel like I’m just a weapon, like a tool being used by the goddesses to carry out their will! I didn’t ask for this destiny! I don’t want it! ”

Link would never say such a thing. He is proud to be a weapon, forged and sharpened for a purpose. He takes pride in being a well-trained soldier, obedient to whoever he is serving – whether that be his commanders, the king, the princess, or the Goddess herself.

That man— That boy in the dream, that was not him. He is much stronger than that boy. 

Just a dream. Not a memory.

Not his memory. Someone else’s. Someone from a long time ago.

He tenses all his muscles again, closing his eyes.

He does not want to think about this. Instead, he focuses on his breathing, focuses on his mission – he must return the princess safely to the castle. He must protect her. That is his purpose as her knight. That is his command, and he shall obey. He does not need to think about anything else other than his orders.

He relaxes his muscles, and the shaking subsides. For now.

—— ▴△▴ ——

They ride on their horses side by side at a steady trot down the dirt road. The sun is high in the sky. The air is perfect, not too warm or too cool. The whisper of the breeze through the tall, untamed grasses rustles around them.

Link is thankful that Zelda has not asked him about his dream anymore. But he can tell by the way she keeps sneaking glances at him that she is still worried.

His chest aches with guilt. He has worried her. He had added to her mountain of stress.

“Hey, you know what might be fun?” She is so clearly trying to cheer him up that he almost cringes. “How about we stop at Lon Lon Ranch before we get back to the castle? It might be nice to see it again after all this time.”

“ No,” Link says much too quickly, much too forcefully. He doesn’t want to risk feeling any more deja vu or having any more visions. And he knows he will feel that way if he goes there, just like how he knew this would happen in the Temple of Time.

He remembers Malon, and her father, and Epona, and the ocarina, and the princess with Impa on the back of their horse, fleeing Hyrule Castle—

He shakes the memory away.

Not his memory. Not his memory. He does not need to worry about it. It doesn’t mean anything to him now. That was a long, long time ago. That was not him.

“A-Alright.” Zelda sounds startled by his rapid response. There is a pause, and then she speaks again. “Link, are you sure you’re okay?”

“I am fine, Princess.” His voice is flat and impassive. He still does not meet her eyes. He desperately tries to change the subject, something that will scrub every inch of concern from the princess’s voice. “How did— How did you sleep? Was the Great Deku Tree’s wisdom correct?”

She hesitates for a moment. “I think so,” she says, carefully choosing her words. “This morning, after waking, I tried to produce any kind of magic that I possibly could. Still, nothing happened. But… I don’t know how to describe it. I feel… stronger. More prepared.”

The answer genuinely surprises Link. Thankfully, it seems that enduring that horrible night in the temple was not in vain after all. “That is good to hear.”

“It… It wasn’t actually until you woke up as well that I felt stronger.”

Link’s posture straightens as pinpricks of anxiety creep up his spine. He doesn’t have a clue what that could mean. He risks looking up at Zelda, hoping to find clarification in her eyes.

She is staring him down intensely. He quickly turns his head away.

“When you… awoke,” the princess continues, dancing around the true meaning of her words – when I held you as you were crying, “I felt… I felt this feeling, something that I think was my magic. Not enough to use but… a spark.”

Link does not know quite how to respond. He keeps his eyes fixed on Epona’s reins in his hands. “I am glad that this journey was not a waste of your time then, Princess.”

“I am, too.”

Silence falls between them, and Link dares to look at the princess once again.

She is still staring at him in that intense way that is so familiar to him by now – the same way she looks at any technological problem that she aims to solve. She does not like the shadow of the unknown. She wants to drag every mystery into the light.

Link knows she is determined to solve his mysteries, too.

“You can talk to me. I mean it.” That’s what she had said.

Link turns back to face the road ahead, and stays silent.

Chapter Text

Neither of them mention the Temple of Time after that.

Days become weeks, weeks become months, and neither of them talk about it.

It takes a little while for Link to be more comfortable around Zelda again, but their dynamic soon returns to normal. Link stays at Zelda’s side throughout the day, defending her, protecting her, being there for her. In return, Zelda tries to be there for him in what ways she can.

With such constant proximity, the two can’t help but become even closer friends.

Zelda coaxes Link to speak more. She manages to get him to smile every so often. They eat their meals together on most days. She watches him train with the other soldiers at least once a week. Whenever she’s forced to speak to the annoying nobles and they make a particularly annoying comment, she’ll glance over at Link and roll her eyes. Sometimes, Link will even chuckle under his breath in response.

She wonders if he’s gotten any more nightmares.

Back at the Temple, he had said ‘I know how to handle this’ – suggesting that he had gotten nightmares like that before. It is quite possible that they would return again.

Zelda does not like to not know things. Sometimes she feels like her curiosity of Link’s mind will eat her from the inside out.

But, as close as the two of them have gotten lately, this is one topic they still avoid talking about.

—— ▴△▴ ——

There has been a large increase in lizalfos attacks around Zora’s Domain. Zelda goes to visit to see how she can help. As always, Link accompanies.

While defending some Zora citizens from a horde of black and silver lizalfos on Ruto Mountain, Link injures his sword arm – nothing major, but enough to make Zelda worried as she stands on the sidelines. When they arrive back within the safety of Zora’s Domain, Mipha heals him with her magic.

Zelda thinks nothing of it. Link has told her before that Mipha is his childhood friend, just as Ilia is. She busies herself by checking on Divine Beast Vah Ruta.

Jealous. What a ridiculous notion.

On a completely unrelated note, she is very happy when they finally leave to travel back home.

The carriage ride is comfortably silent, as it always is these days. Zelda watches Link as his eyes scan the horizon out the window, searching for any stray lizalfos that he had not defeated previously. The soft pale-gray light of the overcast sky shines dimly against his face, highlighting the strong ridge of his brow bone, the sharp edge of his jaw…

Zelda… permits herself to think these thoughts. She doesn’t shake them off. There’s nothing wrong with noticing that Link is handsome. It is merely an observation.

Lately, she has been allowing herself to observe these kinds of things about Link more and more.

“It is going to rain.”

Link’s voice takes her out of her thoughts. “Hm? Oh… You think so? Perhaps it’s just cloudy.”

“The horses are getting restless.” Link nods his chin towards the front of the carriage.

Zelda peaks out her window and looks up front. While the horses driving the carriage are staying well-behaved, even she can notice that they seem nervous – shaking their heads, slightly fighting their reins.

“Perhaps they’re afraid of more lizalfos ambushing us,” Zelda suggests. “Besides, how would they know if it’s going to rain?”

“They can tell, Princess. Horses are very sensitive creatures.”

Zelda can’t help but chuckle. “Right, right. As you’ve told me many times.”

Link doesn’t laugh, his expression remaining serious and at attention. Zelda doesn’t take it personally – that’s just how Link is. He’s on guard duty, so he’s going to act like it. “We should look for shelter. We don’t want to be traveling in the middle of a storm if we can avoid it.”

“Right. It’s getting late anyway,” Zelda agrees. She looks out the window again to address the driver. “We’ll be stopping at the next town. We’ll continue the journey home tomorrow.”

“Yes, Your Highness,” the driver says. Then she hears him spreading her message to the other two carriages of servants and guards.

Hyrule is a large, bountiful land. It is widely populated, with hundreds of towns and villages sprawling across the fields and tucked into the mountains. It doesn’t take long for them to find a nearby town along the road they’re traveling on – a small, quaint place called Ordon Village. The townsfolk are honored to host Princess Zelda and the Hero of Hyrule for the night. They lend shelter for her horses and offer them the best rooms in the local inn. Zelda thanks them and pays them well. Even though they say no payment is needed, Zelda insists.

By the time a servant has brought dinner up to her room, it’s started to pour outside.

Her knight stands at the window, watching the storm.

“Link?” She looks over at him. She is sitting on her knees on the soft mat that’s spread across the floor, with dinner piping hot on the low table in front of her. At the sound of her voice, Link startles out of his reverie and faces her. She beckons him forward with a smile and her curling fingers, then pats her hand down on the space on the mat adjacent to her.

She doesn’t even need to tell him to join her. Link has shared meals with her so many times over these past months that eating together has become normal. Wordlessly, he walks over and sits on the mat – knees folded under him, posture perfectly straight.

“They're very generous here, aren’t they?” Zelda says, picking up her bowl of Hylian rice. “I love talking to the citizens of my kingdom, without my father here.” She reaches with her chopsticks to the plate of fire-roasted fish in the center of the table, then easily tears away the fall-off-the-bone flesh, adding a helping into her rice bowl. Her chopsticks then reach for the various bowls of vegetables. “He’s always so intimidating. I like to think I’m much more approachable, no?”

“Yes, Princess,” Link says, helping himself to the meal as well.

Zelda laughs. “Although, you don’t need to agree with me if it’s not true. I always appreciate your honesty. Tell me, my knight, am I intimidating?”

A pause. Link continues to add food to his bowl. “…You can be, Princess.”

She laughs again. “Oh please. Who’d be scared of me?”

“You’d be surprised.”

Another laugh, then she begins to eat. The fish skin is crisp while the tender meat melts in her mouth, everything perfectly seasoned. “Mm! Goddess, this is good. They truly are too kind here.”

She looks over at Link, who usually inhales his meals down almost ravenously. But this evening, he picks at his bowl slowly.

Zelda frowns. “There’s something on your mind.”

Link’s eyes flick over to her. “It is nothing to worry you with, Your Highness.”

“You know I value what you have to say. Please, just tell me.”

He doesn’t answer right away. His eyes look back down at his food, the faint trails of steam rising from the bowl. “A small village like this – wooden houses, no wall, barely any guards – places like this are the most vulnerable targets for the increasing number of monsters.”

Zelda’s shoulders fall. “I… I’ll be honest… I had been thinking something similar.” Then she straightens up, determined. “But my father’s already sent Royal Guardsmen far and wide across the land to defend our people. I’m sure this place has as many guards as we can spare. It will be enough.”

Link still hesitates, but eventually nods. “I hope so, Princess.”

They barely speak for the rest of dinner, too busy eating the delicious food prepared for them. Throughout the meal, Zelda notices that Link’s gaze keeps straying to the window again, staring at the pouring rain.

When her bowl is cleared – and when Link’s has been cleared twice – she catches him in the act, asking with a smile, “What do you keep looking at, my knight?”

He glances back over at her quickly. The tips of his pointed ears are slightly red, embarrassed to be caught.

Cute, she allows herself to think.

“Before I was your knight, Princess,” Link explains, “I used to train outside on days like this, when the rain was heavy.”

“You would train outside in a storm like this?!”

“It builds discipline. Stepping into the cold rain goes against your body’s natural impulses. When you continue to do so time and time again, staying outside longer and longer, you get better at stepping into all uncomfortable situations – including battle.” His eyes wander to the window again. “Even after all these months at your side, it still feels… strange, to not be training out there right now. That is all.”

Zelda just stares, in awe. To build that kind of discipline, that kind of strength… She must admit, everyday she seems to admire her knight more and more.

Then a grin spread across her face. “Well, it’s not too late. We can go outside right now, if you’d like.”

“Princess,” Link sputters. “I— I couldn’t make you do that. You could catch a cold—”

“You’re not the only one here who has to practice stepping into battle,” she says, standing up from her seat on the floor. “I think I learn to build some more discipline, too. Come, let us go.”

Without waiting for him, she begins to leave. As always, Link follows.

Outside, there is no thunder or lightning, but the sheets of rain coming down are thick and dense. Zelda and Link leave the shelter of the inn and set out into the storm. The tumultuous wind batters against them, soaking the rain into their clothes. Wet hair clings to their faces. It is uncomfortable and cold, but Link looks unphased. Zelda tries to steel herself and feel the same way.

She wants to turn back. She wants to return to the comforting warmth of the inn. But she has made her choice. She can’t turn back, not now. She doesn’t want Link to think his princess is weak. She can do this. She will learn to be as disciplined as her knight.

They settle near a tall tree. Zelda sits beneath it – the thin branches barely providing any cover. She still feels the full force of the rain.

Link walks a few feet in front of her, directly under the storming sky. Facing away from her, he draws the Master Sword and begins to train.

She has seen him do this before – many times, on the days she goes down to the barracks to watch him do drills with the rest of the Hyrule Castle’s Royal Guard. She watches him move through those same sword stances, his motions strong and forceful, yet careful and precise. His balance never falters despite the rain, the wind, or the heavy weight of his blade. His mind completely focused on this task alone.

It is… incredible to watch.

Zelda knows that she probably shouldn’t speak to him. She should let him practice in peace. But she can’t help it – her mind wanders, and she is curious.

“How did you learn to fight so well?” she asks, watching him from behind. “There must be a reason why you’re the best fighter in our entire army at such a young age.”

Link continues to move through each sword position. Each time he swings his blade, it cuts right through the rain itself.

“I don’t know,” he finally responds. “It’s always just been something I was good at. Even when I held a sword for the first time as a child, I felt like I had been wielding one for ages.”

Zelda chuckles. “Well, I suppose you have the experience of all the past incarnations of the Hero.”

Link doesn’t seem to take that statement as casually as Zelda intends. His careful swordsmanship does not falter, but she notices him go tense for just a moment, before relaxing back into his practiced motions.

“I suppose my father also helped teach me in my childhood,” he adds offhandedly, very clearly changing the subject.

But Zelda doesn’t mind. This subject is interesting, too. “I don’t know much about your father other than that he was a knight. Forgive me, what was his name?”

“Arn.” Link swings his sword down, swift and forceful. “Sir Arn of Hateno.”

“What was he like?”

“A good man.” He thrusts the blade forward, then swings it up into high guard position. The blade twirls slightly as he does so, as if deflecting an imaginary attack. “A talented fighter. And a good mentor, like Commander Eagus.”

Zelda pauses after that. She has another question, but she doesn’t know if she should ask it.

Curiosity always gets the best of her, as it always does.

“How did he die?

Link pauses at the end of his next sword-swing. His back is still to her, so she cannot see the look on his face. The sound of the rain seems louder in her ears.

She is about to apologize for asking such a personal question, but then Link’s voice finally answers – clear and impassive above the surging storm.

“…Illness.”

“Oh, Goddess.” Zelda’s face falls. She can’t help but think of her mother, watching her slowly get weaker in bed until she fell asleep for the final time. “I’m sorry.”

Link appears unphased as he returns to his training. “No need, Princess. It was a long time ago.”

“How old were you, if I may ask?”

He jabs his sword forward, his foot stepping out with the motion. She still cannot see his expression. “Fifteen.”

“That’s not a long time at all! Only five years ago.”

Link falls silent. Zelda’s known him long enough to know that means he doesn’t know what to say. He continues to cut through the rain, each movement perfectly controlled.

She decides to let the topic go. Link doesn’t need to speak of this if he doesn’t want to. He has never been one to discuss his more personal feelings with her anyway.

“Pipit has helped me a lot.”

Zelda’s ears twitch. Link’s voice was so quiet beneath the rain that she wasn’t sure he even spoke at all.

But he did.

“Pipit… that’s your friend with the brown hair, right?”

“That is correct, Princess.” Link slices his sword sideways. “He joined the Guard five years ago, just before my father passed. He’s… He’s been very kind. Supportive.”

“That’s good to hear,” Zelda says. Then she adds, “Urbosa was like that for me, when my mother passed away.”

Link’s movements slow again, just a small hesitation. Then they resume back to normal. When he speaks again, his voice is still just as impassive as before, not letting any emotion through.

“You understand, then.”

“I do,” is all Zelda says in response.

Nothing but the rain fills the air after that. Zelda wonders if she should elaborate – I do. I understand loss on that scale. I understand how it can feel like grief has swallowed you whole.

But she doesn’t. There is no need to.

She has never felt closer to Link than at this moment. Perhaps it is something about the rain – how it makes them feel hidden in the sheets of water, just the two of them, so far away from the rest of the world. Maybe it is because they are not meeting each other’s eyes, making it easier to say such personal things.

“Your path seems to mirror your father’s,” she speaks up again. “You’ve dedicated yourself to becoming a knight as well. Your commitment to the training necessary to fulfill your goal is really quite admirable. I see now why you would be the Chosen One.” She gives a weak smile at that, then looks away, sorrow in her eyes. “What if…”

At her trailing off, Link pauses again. This time, he turns to face her.

“…One day… you realized that you just weren’t meant to be a fighter,” Zelda is lost in her own thoughts. “Yet the only thing people ever said was that you were born into a family of the Royal Guard, and so no matter what you thought, you had to become a knight. If that was the only thing that you were ever told… I wonder, then… would you have chosen a different path?”

She finally looks up to meet Link’s eyes again.

Immediately, she can see that he does not understand her. Despite how understanding Link can be, despite how closely their friendship might have grown, he cannot comprehend this part of her.

“I would not, Your Highness,” Link answers her question. “It is my destiny to be the Hero of Hyrule. I am the Goddess’s weapon, and I’m honored to fulfill that role.”

Zelda smiles weakly. “Well, I’m glad to hear it. Who knows what we would do without you.”

She expects Link to turn around again, to continue with his training – to continue to be the perfect soldier that he always is.

But he doesn’t. He just keeps staring at her in that loyal-dog way, as if waiting for her permission for something. After several months together now, she has grown to recognise that hesitation behind his eyes.

“What is it, Link?” she encourages.

He still doesn’t speak just yet. He shifts nervously on his feet. It looks strange after seeing how steady his footwork had been while he practiced his swordsmanship.

Then finally, he asks, “Is this about… the things His Majesty says to you?”

Her eyes widen, stunned that Link would actually ask her that. Perhaps she is not the only one here who feels the two of them have grown closer.

“I… Yes, I admit it is,” Zelda replies. “You… Your destiny is so clear to you. The Master Sword is already in your hands. You are already the strongest fighter in our army. You are ready for the Calamity.”

Her head hangs, and she hopes the rain hides the tears that prick in the corners of her eyes.

“…I have never felt like that once in my entire life,” she tells him. “Sometimes I… I feel like… I am not the princess that everyone thinks I am.”

It is the first time she has actually said it out loud to him – the first time she’s ever willingly told him the very same insecurity that caused her to despise him when they first met.

She has not feared being judged by Link in a long time. She knows that he would never do so. But yet, in this moment, she feels so exposed, and those fears manage to crawl their way back into her mind. What is he thinking as he stares down at her with that emotionless face?

“You are.”

She blinks back her tears, refocusing on Link. “What?”

“You are, Your Highness.” Link’s tone is full of such certainty. She doesn’t understand where he could’ve possibly gotten that from. “You are the princess destined to seal away Ganon. I know it.”

“How?” Her voice is choked by unshed tears. “How can— How can you be so sure?”

How can he believe in her so strongly, without any apprehension?

No one has ever believed in her like that before.

“I don’t know how,” Link answers, looking away. “I just— I just know. Trust me.”

Trust me.

And she does. She really does. She trusts her knight with her life.

“Okay,” she said quietly. Just barely audible over the rain. “I’ll… I’ll keep that in mind.”

They are both silent again after that. After a moment, Link sheaths the Master Sword on his back. “I have finished. We can go back inside now.”

“Right, of course.” Zelda gathers herself. She pushes her body off the ground, but it’s difficult with the rain-soaked ground under her fingers.

Link’s hand appears in the corner of her vision.

She takes it. He helps her onto her feet.

“Let’s go,” she says, and they head back to the inn.

—— ▴△▴ ——

When they are back indoors, the innkeeper says they should hang up their wet clothes by the hearth in the foyer where it’s nice and warm. The princess heads back to her suite to change into her nightclothes, saying she’ll send a servant down with her rain-soaked outfit.

Link strays from the princess’s side for just a moment so he can go change in his own room.

It’s smaller than the suite that Zelda has, but it’s still nice. The walls are paneled in wooden planks, dusty-brown in color. The gray sky outside is getting darker now, so the room is illuminated mostly by the warm glow of candles. They cast moving shadows onto the soft mat laid across the floor as Link changes out of his wet Champions tunic and into his warm, dry nightclothes.

His mind wanders.

It had been… nice … talking to the princess as he trained. Months ago, he never would have imagined that he would one day discuss such personal things with her. She is royalty, of course, and that means she is above him, but at the same time… it is nice when they act like they are friends.

Perhaps that is truly what they are.

As Link has told himself many times, ‘friends’ implies ‘equals’ – but maybe this time, there can be an exception. Perhaps, even if he is so beneath her, he can still be allowed to be the princess’s friend. That is what she wants, after all – and Link will always do what the princess wants.

For a mere knight to be able to call the princess herself a friend – Link would be honored.

He removes his wet clothes and tosses them onto a wooden chair in the corner of the room. Then he slips on dark linen pants. The fabric is well-worn and loose, flowing down to his ankles. He tightens the drawstring high on his waist.

He has not yet put his shirt on when there is a knock at the door.

The princess’s voice comes muffled from behind it. “Are you decent?”

“Yes, Princess,” he calls towards the door, then leans down to reach for a clean shirt inside his bag.

He hears the wooden door slide open and closed – followed by a small, quiet gasp.

He looks back up after finding his shirt. The princess has changed out of her blue traveling clothes and into her white nightgown. Even such an ordinary item of clothing is extravagantly embroidered, fit for royalty.

She is staring right at him, her cheeks tinged slightly pink.

“What is it, Princess?”

“Hm? O-Oh, nothing!” she hurriedly replies, her eyes scanning across his body. “I— I just came to tell you that— that— that a servant will come around soon, to— to pick up your clothes.”

She seems flustered. Link doesn’t understand why. It’s not like he’s too underdressed to be seen by her. It’s perfectly normal for him to be shirtless while training on hot days with the Royal Guard, and she’s seen him like that many times now.

Link just nods in response to her statement, then unfolds his shirt in his hands. The warm candlelight glows against the soft, white linen. Like his pants, the fabric is loose and flowy, with a drawstring dangling from around the neck.

He’s about to pull it on over his head when he notices the princess’s gaze is no longer flicking across him. Instead, she has completely zeroed in on Link’s arm.

Or more specifically, the new scars on his arm – the wounds that Mipha had healed earlier that day.

Thanks to the healing magic, they are not bleeding anymore. No bandages are needed, the skin having stitched itself closed. But the scars are still very fresh, and the large white-pink marks are easily visible against his tanned skin, like quartz veins through marble.

The princess notices that Link has caught her staring. “Is that… Is where the lizalfos clawed you?”

“Yes, Your Highness,” Link replies, and his own eyes can’t help but trail down to the wound as well. His nose wrinkles slightly, sneering to himself. “I apologize for my ineptitude. It should never have happened.”

“No! No, I didn’t mean it like that, Link,” the princess quickly assures him. “I don’t expect you to never get hit – that’s impossible! I just meant…” Hesitantly, she takes a step forward. “May I… May I take a closer look?”

Link nods, unconcerned. He knows the princess is curious, how he likes to examine things she is unfamiliar with. He doesn’t mind if she wants to examine this, too.

He abandons putting on his new shirt, tossing it onto his bed, and holds out his arm for her.

The princess hesitates for a moment longer, then walks over to his side. She looks over the raw, jagged scars across his bicep, staring with her wide, analytical eyes.

Absent-mindedly, she reaches her hand out to touch the marks, but she catches herself at the last moment and pulls her hand away.

“Sorry, I— That was presumptuous of me,” she says. “I just wanted to see— Have they really completely healed? I’ve never seen Mipha’s magic up close before.”

“They are fully healed, yes,” Link affirms. Then he shifts his arm closer to her, the expression on his face as plain and indifferent as always. “I do not mind if you touch them, Princess.”

“I-I— Well—”

There is still something about her that still seems so flustered – her stammering voice, the faint blush on her cheeks – but Link doesn’t understand why. All he’s said is that she can touch his arm. That is not anything particularly significant or remarkable.

The princess collects herself and finishes her response. “Wouldn’t they hurt if touched?”

“No, Your Highness. There is no pain there anymore. The magic takes care of that.”

“I see…” Her eyes flick down at his arm, then back up to his eyes, nervous. “So… You really don’t mind?”

Link’s brows knit together, confused. The princess rarely needs to ask for permission, let alone double-check that she has permission. Is she really so afraid of hurting him? He would hate it if she thought he was so weak.

“Princess, it is my purpose to serve you,” he assures her, his firm gaze not straying from hers for a moment. “You may do whatever you’d like.”

No matter how many times Link says something along these lines to her, she always looks surprised. This time is no different – her spine straightening just a bit, her eyebrows shooting upwards, her mouth parting slightly. But then she gathers herself, and finally nods.

She is still wary, but she slowly raises her hand up to Link’s bicep, and traces her thin fingers along the pale pink lines. Link does not flinch. His muscles do not twitch with discomfort or pain.

However, his heartbeat seems to get slightly louder in his ears. Strange. Perhaps the scarred skin is more sensitive than he thought.

“Fascinating…” The princess pushes her thumb and forefinger experimentally across the healed wound, stretching the pale skin. “It’s as if the skin has fused itself back together, seamlessly.”

“Indeed, Princess. Mipha’s magic is much better than a standard healing potion.”

She looks up at him like a cat being alerted to the rustling of prey in the grass – pupils wide, intrigued. “What does that mean? What happens with a healing potion?”

This is his favorite thing about the princess – how she must know everything, how she is always looking for an answer. A faint smile almost graces Link’s face, but he forces himself to remain neutral.

“Healing potions are very quick to do their job,” he explains. “They close the skin immediately, even if the end result doesn’t look tidy. That sort of thing doesn’t matter in battle. All that matters is that you stop bleeding, and for the pain to stop.”

“I see,” the princess responds. “That makes sense.” Her gaze trails away from his arm. Instead, it wanders over to his shoulders, then down his chest.

That blush is still on her cheeks, but Link takes more notice of the concern that fills her eyes.

“What is it?” he asks.

Her eyes snap up to his again. “Nothing, it’s just… I never noticed just how many scars you have.”

Link looks down at himself. He’s grown so used to seeing the faded marks all over his body that he never realized how strange it might look to an outsider.

“…I apologize if they are unsightly for royal eyes, Your Highness.”

“No! N-Not at all! You look— n-not unsightly by any means! I just meant…” The princess gathers herself, clearing her throat. “I just meant that up close like this, I can see them much clearer.”

Her hand reaches out towards the older scars, then hesitates once again.

“I said I don’t mind if you touch them, Princess. They don’t cause me any pain.”

“R-Right.”

Her fingers graze over a larger scar stretched over the side of his ribs. It’s one of the more brutal ones – the skin distorted and warped.

Her touch is light, shy.

“How did you get this one?” she asks, voice almost a whisper.

“Arrow,” Link answers, voice impassive. “A couple years ago, I was sent out with a couple other soldiers to clear out a camp of bokoblins that had settled near the Dueling Peaks. One of them managed to land a shot on me. There was no exit wound, so I had to pull the arrow out backwards through the entrance wound there. That’s why the scar is such a mess. That, and because of the healing potion.”

He notices that the princess’s face is twisted with sympathy pain.

“I’m sorry,” he says quickly. “I should spare you the gory details, Princess.”

“No, I want to know. Tell me everything” Her hand glides over to a wide line spread across his chest. “How about this one?”

“Yiga clan fight. Some of them use a kind of circular-bladed weapon called a Demon Carver – I’m sure you’ve seen them. I didn’t quite know how to defend myself correctly against one the first time I fought someone who used one. Didn’t parry the right way, and they managed to hit me.”

She winces, inhaling with a sharp hiss. “I don’t— I don’t know how you can say these things so casually. The memories must be painful.”

Link thinks for a moment, then shrugs. “I suppose I am just used to it, Your Highness.”

The princess shakes her head, a grim look on her face, but doesn’t respond verbally. Her fingers just continue to trace over the faded scar – the pale white mark that was once a gushing red wound.

Link hopes she cannot feel his heart quickly beating in his chest.

It occurs to him then, as the princess’s eyes continue to scan over him, that perhaps he is breaking some kind of protocol. He didn’t think much of it at first, but now he’s not so sure.

The princess is in his bedroom. She is touching his body. They are close. He can feel her breath on his skin.

It is… intimate. 

And yet he doesn’t pull away. In this moment, he is not thinking about protocol or rules. All that matters is his princess. If her curious mind wants to question him about his scars, then he will answer. If she wants to trail her hands over his skin, then he will let her.

He had meant what he said before. His purpose is to serve her. She may do whatever she likes. He would let her do anything to him.

He brings himself out of his thoughts and sees that the princess still looks uneasy. Even if the scars are old and faded and no longer cause him any pain, she still looks anxious about him.

“You do not need to worry, Princess,” he tells her. She is so close to him like this. It makes Link’s voice come out much lower, much softer. “It is not your job to worry about me.”

“Nonsense,” she looks up at him. “You put yourself in danger all the time, just for my sake. Of course I’m going to worry.”

“It is my responsibility to protect you, not the other way around. I’m fine.”

“I can’t help it. I care about you, Link. Therefore, I am going to worry about you.”

The words hit him harder than any arrow ever has. They come more unexpectedly than any enemy ambush.

I care about you.

His mouth goes dry and his face feels hot. He doesn’t know how to respond. The princess cares about him? He cares about her more than anything in the world. His soul cares for her in such a deep, intrinsic way that he can barely comprehend it. She is not just royalty to him – she is everything. Zelda, who he has sworn to protect. Zelda, who has become such a close friend.

Zelda, who is looking up at him in a way no one else ever has – with eyes that truly see him.

She shares his destiny. She understands.

“Princess, I…” He tries to find the right words, but speaking has never been his strong suit. “I…”

And then there is a knock at the door.

“Your Highness?” A muffled voice outside calls to them. “Are you in there?”

The princess bolts away from Link, flinching back as if his skin burned to touch. Her face reddens and she stares at the floor. “Yes, Marin. You can come in,” she calls out, taking a couple extra steps away from Link for good measure. 

The door opens and the servant girl enters just as Link turns away, reaching for his clean shirt again. The princess speaks with her as she collects Link’s rain-soaked clothes. He puts the new shirt on.

For some reason, now he feels flustered, just as the princess had been. He doesn’t know why. He hadn’t done anything completely out of line, after all.

When the servant girl leaves, the princess bids him goodnight and leaves as well.

“Goodnight, Link.”

“Goodnight, Your Highness,” he replies in a rushed tone. He does not meet her eyes.

He hears the door slide shut behind him, and then he collapses onto the bed – physically, mentally, and emotionally exhausted.

—— ▴△▴ ——

Weeks later, the princess tells Link that the two of them will be traveling to the Spring of Courage together.

“When I turn 21, I’ll finally get to visit the Spring of Wisdom,” she explains, sitting beside him in the royal dining hall as they eat breakfast. “So I want to visit the other two Springs beforehand. I’ve visited them before, of course – but maybe now that I’m older, it’ll be different.”

Link just nods, continuing to eat.

“After all, visiting the Temple of Time again seemed to help me a little, right? Maybe if I sleep through the night at each Spring as wall, that will finally do the trick”

Link’s hand slows to a stop, his fork hovering over his plate of fried eggs as he spaces out into his thoughts. The Temple of Time. The dream he had there is still his most vivid one to date. All his dreams since have been murky and cloudy, with some exceptions on blood moon nights. But nothing has matched the visceral, real feeling of the dream from the Temple of Time.

He doesn’t want to have a dream like that ever again.

Nevertheless, he accompanies the princess to the Spring of Courage. They don’t go on horseback this time, like they did to the Temple. The Spring of Courage is deep within the Faron region. The multi-day journey there means the princess will require her usual caravan of supplies and servants. Plus, whereas the Temple of Time was well-staffed with their own guards, the Spring of Courage is nothing but ruins. More guards must be brought with them from the castle.

The journey is long, but mostly uneventful. They encounter enemies, but nothing difficult. Link is grateful – he would not be prepared for an intense fight in the state that he’s in now, with his distracted mind dreading what dream will be conjured for him this time.

When they finally arrive at their destination, the carriages slow to a stop in front of a huge stone statue – a dragon’s maw, jaws open wide. Each of its teeth are as tall as the trees around them, the carved stone worn and cracked with age.

Link holds his hand out to the princess, helping her out of their carriage. Her traveling boots touch down onto the lush rainforest floor beside him. A servant quickly comes up to them and hands Link a large backpack full of their camping supplies, which he silently puts on. The sky is already dark after traveling all day, and the air here is hazy with a heavy fog.

The princess gazes up at the stone marvel in front of them. “I forgot the entrance looked like this. Incredible… I wonder what era this was constructed.”

She reaches for a torch hanging from a loop on the side of Link’s backpack, lighting it with a piece of flint she retrieves from a pouch on her belt. It erupts with flame, immediately illuminating the hazy night. The light dances across the inside of the stone dragon’s mouth as Zelda enters it, Link close behind her.

“They say that the Spring of Courage is thousands of years old,” she tells him. “But if this statue was built around the same time, then it would be much more worn down than we see here. And stalactites should have also formed across the ceiling by now. Faron is prone to lots of rain, and yet we don’t see the effects of thousands of years of water damage. Interesting.” She places her hand against one of the giant pillars of teeth. “That can only mean this structure was constructed long after the Spring was. I have to write this down.”

With wordless communication, the princess holds her torch out in Link’s direction, not even looking at him. Seamlessly – as he has done many times in their travels together – Link takes it from her, then holds it close to the princess as she pulls out her notebook and starts writing down her findings.

When she finishes, she looks back at the caravan that has accompanied her here. “I want two guards keeping watch at this entrance, and another two guards further down at either side of the stone skeleton,” she commands, her assertive voice loud enough for them all to hear. “Four others will guard the carriages and the servants. Take shifts throughout the night. I trust you all can set up your camp?”

“Yes, Princess!” the guards all shout in response.

“Good.” She then turns to Link, lowering her voice to a normal volume. “Come on, now. Let’s head inside.”

He gives her a stiff nod and follows as she continues ahead, ignoring the anxiety pooling in his gut.

The two of them walk through the dragon’s stone esophagus, their footsteps echoing slightly in the hollow structure. Link still holds the torch, lighting their way through the dark and the fog, but the dim moonlight also falls through gaps in the ceiling above that have deteriorated away with time.

Soon they come across more ruins – ancient stone columns and other architecture. They’re eroded almost beyond recognition, barely identifiable as man-made creations. Moss, lichen, and ivy grow all across their craggy surfaces.

“Now this is what ruins from thousands of years ago looks like,” Zelda says, and Link hears her graphite scratching against her notebook again. “See how much more weathered the columns here are compared to the dragon statue? These must be from the original site of the Spring of Courage.”

Link, admittedly, is not fully paying attention to her words. He feels that tell-tale sign of deja vu slowly starting to wrap its cold fingers around him. He lightly trails his free hand against the side of a nearby crumbling pillar.

There are no flashes of images in his head, no visions of the past appearing before his eyes. Not yet, at least. For now, there is just that uneasy, uncomfortable, familiar feeling.

“Link?”

He turns towards the princess, realizing that he has fallen behind her.

“Can you bring the light closer? I need to write more observations down.”

“Of course, Princess.” They are alone now, deep in the interior of the stone dragon head, but Link keeps his voice quiet anyway so the guards outside can’t possibly hear him. He obediently quickens his pace and catches back up to the princess’s side, holding the torch’s flame just above her.

“Thank you.” She smiles.

Link tries to shake the lingering uneasy feeling away. He needs to stay alert.

Soon, they reach the main chamber. Their pathway ends with an octagonal platform, and the space in front of them widens into a round area that’s been flooded. Aquatic plants sprout all throughout the shallow pool, their stalks dense with leaves. Half-sunk in the water are more eroded columns, with tarnished brass sconces attached to the sides of them. On the other side of the pool, a tall goddess statue stands on a weathered stone platform.

Link feels the cold hand of deja vu grip him tighter, squeezing around his throat. He tries to keep his breathing under control, but it is difficult when he’s starting to feel a little dizzy – a strange vertigo sensation, it almost makes him feel as if he’s falling.

Falling through the clouds…

“Look at this place, Link!”

The princess’s eyes are lit up in awe, scanning across the scene in front of her. Link turns all his focus to her, desperate to distract himself.

“I haven’t been here in years, you know. It’s even more incredible than I remember.” She walks to the edge of the octagonal platform and starts taking off her boots. “I know it’s late, but I need to take a look around first before I do anything else. You set up our tent, alright?”

“Yes, Princess,” Link answers with a stiff nod. Thank the goddess. Hopefully keeping his mind occupied with a task will be enough to distract his mind.

“Good, good.” She kicks her boots off to the side and hikes up her pants to her knees. When she turns back to Link, she is grinning wide. “I’ll take that again.” She reaches out for the torch. As soon as Link hands it to her, she rushes away, wading into the shallow water of the Spring.

Link has been given orders. He obeys them. All he needs to think about is obeying them.

Attempting to shake off the dizzying feeling once again, he removes his backpack and puts it down. It lands with a heavy thud against the stone platform beneath him. He takes out the folded-up tent and begins setting it up. Occasionally, he will hear the sound of the princess’s Sheikah Slate taking a picture, joining her voice which echos from across the chamber as she recites her findings out loud;

“This carving is the Farore symbol. Makes sense, it always seems to be found at ruins named after ‘courage’. I wonder why. Hm… It appears to be a newer carving than some of the other designs here. Perhaps it was added when the dragon structure was built… And these other carvings, I don’t recognize them. Definitely not Sheikah… Maybe Zonai? But it doesn’t look like any Zonai designs I’ve studied before…”

Link pointedly does not look over at the princess. He does not look over at the ancient architecture that she’s observing. He just tries to stay focused on what he’s been commanded to do.

Tries to stay focused.

He remembers— No, not remembers, daydreams – He daydreams about giant spiders jumping down on him from the ceiling. He thinks of eyes embedded into stone walls, staring him down. His imagines a huge, armored skeleton that towers over him. It wields two shortswords, blocking his attacks. His own sword is weakened, needs to be restored to its once-powerful state—

He flinches out of the reverie, his hand shooting towards the hilt of the Master Sword, checking to see that it’s still there in its sheath on his back. Of course, it’s there. His fingers grip the familiar leather wrappings of the handle.

The sword seems to buzz under his skin – warm, welcoming. But that does not startle him. He is used to the Master Sword doing strange things due to his special connection with it.

He pulls his hand away and continues to work, not allowing his mind to wander off that far into memories— no, into daydreams.

Once the tent is set up, he unstraps the two bedrolls from the top and bottom of his backpack. He spreads them out inside the tent, and then stays seated in between them. He does not want to leave the thick canvas walls surrounding him. He doesn’t want to look at the ruins anymore – ruins that cause his mind to wander off towards thoughts he does not recognise.

“Link!” He hears the princess’s voice, muffled from far outside the canvas of the tent. “Link, come out here! Look at this!”

He closes his eyes, takes a deep breath.

Discipline is to step into discomfort over and over again, he tells himself.

He stands and leaves.

Outside, he looks around for the princess. She waves at him from behind the goddess statue’s pedestal, still holding the torch in her other hand. “Come here! I need your help!”

Silently, he approaches her. He does not care if his boots get wet, so he steps right into the Spring. The water reaches just below his knees, so he easily wades through it, causing ripples to spread across its murky surface.

Until suddenly, the water turns clear.

Link stumbles back, almost falling. The water has turned pristine and clear. Not only that, but the air has too – the fog lifting, the moonlight shining brightly down on him. The dragon sculpture is no longer there, and the goddess statue and her pedestal are as clean as the water. The white marble glimmers beautifully under the moonbeams.

The princess is not in his sight.

He’s about to call out for her, when he is interrupted by another voice.

“Master…”

He whips around, the water splashing loudly below him with the sudden movement. The voice had sounded like it was right behind him, but he sees no one there. It had been a female voice, quiet and unexpressive. It sounded strangely synthetic, and echoed as if it were ethereal.

“From the edge of time I guide you, the one chosen to carry out the goddess’s mission…”

Again, the voice sounds like it’s behind him, so he darts around once more.

As he turns, the fog fills the air, the dragon sculpture reappears, and the water grows muddy again.

The princess is there behind the goddess statue.

“Link?” There is concern on her face. He has made her worried. “Are you alright?”

“I am fine, Your Highness,” he quickly assures her. It is disgraceful the amount of times he has lied to her about this kind of thing. But he cannot have her worry about him anymore than she already does. “I apologize. I’ll be right over.”

He walks through the water faster than before, kicking up splashes of muddy water. When he reaches the princess’s side, she guides him over to a doorway embedded into the wall behind the goddess statue.

“Look at this door,” the princess says, holding her torch up to it. It is not a normal door, and instead is comprised of many interlocking stone blocks. “I’ve never seen anything like it before. Have you?”

“No, Princess,” he answers before he can even give himself a chance to think about it.

She frowns, disappointed. “Are you sure? You’ve traveled to many more places than my father would ever let me go. You’ve never had to open a door like this while on a mission for the Royal Guard?”

As hard as Link tries to keep his eyes away – by the goddess does he try – his gaze is pulled towards the door against his will. His attention is drawn to the reliefs carved into each of the interlocking blocks, smoothed-down and barely visible after centuries of erosion. He reaches up and ghosts his fingers over them.

They depict birds – little emblems of birds with large beaks in profile view.

Loftwings, somewhere in his unconscious mind supplies.

His hand finches away, just as his thoughts catch up with him.

What’s a Loftwing?

“Link, are you sure you’re alright?” The princess steps towards him, touching his arm with her hand that’s not holding the torch. “Are you—”

“I have never seen anything like this door before, Princess,” he says hurriedly and turns away, pulling his arm out of her grasp and making his way back towards the tent.

This is pathetic. He’s afraid. He’s afraid of having the dreams that come with being the Chosen One, afraid of the visions of his— of his past lives. 

The princess follows him. Even though he does not see her, he can still tell from her voice that she has that stubborn look on her face – the same one she’d get whenever she’d tell him to leave her alone, back when she had despised him. “This is just like what happened at the Temple of Time. I know you’re hiding something from me, Link.”

“I-I am not hiding anything.” His deep voice sounds coarser than usual, like gravel being crushed under rock. The words are such an obvious lie that his shoulders tense with how ashamed he is. He tries to recover. “I— What I mean is— It’s nothing that—”

“You don’t have to tell me,” the princess calls out behind him, strong and commanding, as if she’s giving him an order.

Link stops in his tracks. He still does not turn to face her.

“I’m not going to force you to tell me your secrets, Link. You deserve to have your privacy.” He hears the water slosh with the princess’s stride, tiny waves lapping against the backs of his calves. Soon she appears in the corner of his eye, then steps around to his front. “But you can still let me help you, even if you don’t want to tell me what’s wrong.”

She puts her hand against his arm again. The touch is grounding. He does not feel like he is falling anymore, as if she has reached out to catch him.

He is silent, not knowing how to respond. He takes this as a chance to catch his breath. He inhales deeply, exhales through his mouth.

“Is that better?” she asks him.

It still takes him another moment to reply. “…You do not have to do this.”

“I want to. Link, I told you – I care about you. I want to help. You do not need to do this alone.”

“It is my job to care about you,” he says firmly, finally meeting her eyes again. “It is not a princess’s responsibility to help her knight.”

“It is my responsibility to help the citizens of my kingdom.” She shifts her hand over, poking him square in the chest. “And that includes you.”

Link goes silent again. The part of his brain that is so caught up with protocol grinds to a halt.

He hates that he can’t argue with her logic.

The princess – the intelligent, observant princess – seems to read his mind. A small, victorious smile blooms on her lips. “There we go. You understand now? You are allowed to let me help you.”

He is allowed to, perhaps. But he still feels disgusted with himself. The princess’s personal knight, so afraid and weak like this – it’s completely disgraceful. He should be better. He is allowed her help, but he shouldn’t need it.

He shouldn’t want it.

“I…” Link averts his gaze again. He thinks of what to say that will end this conversation the quickest. “…I will keep your words in mind, Your Highness.”

The princess chuckles. “Good. Come on, now. I’m going to change into my prayer clothes. Guard the tent for me.”

“Of course, Princess.”

They walk back over onto the octagonal platform, and the princess enters their tent. When she re-emerges, she is wearing her white prayer gown. Despite its importance, it is the plainest dress she owns – no fancy embroidery, no long flowing sleeves. Just a few gold accessories that are rather simple compared to what royalty usually wears.

The simplicity of the outfit is what makes it so beautiful. Here, in the ruins, it seems to feel as ancient as her surroundings – as if it’s something the goddess herself would wear.

Link does not stop himself from thinking these thoughts. It is not shameful to think the princess is beautiful. Such a thing is a known fact.

She steps into the water again, closes her eyes, and begins to pray. Link straightens his posture into parade rest, standing guard.

The princess mostly stays silent, but sometimes she prays aloud. Link tries not to pay attention to what she says – prayer is a private affair, and Link doesn’t want to eavesdrop. But without the princess’s voice or touch grounding him, his mind begins to drift off again.

Falling, he is falling…

The water is clear. The goddess statue glistens under the moonlight.

The princess wears a white gown. It has long, flowing sleeves. There are iridescent ribbons woven into her hair.

“You stand in Skyview Spring,” the voice behind him says. “The second spring is hidden away deep within the scorched earth of Eldin—”

Link jolts back into reality, catching his balance before he almost collapses into the muddy Spring. His heart hammers in his chest. He can hear it in his ears.

By the time he’s calmed down again, the princess is climbing out of the water. He holds his hand out for her.

“Still nothing,” she mumbles under her breath as she grabs Link’s wrist. He pulls her up onto the platform. “But I honestly expected that. Let’s go to sleep now. Hopefully that will help my magic in some way.”

She changes her clothes in the tent again, this time into warm, dry sleepwear. Link does not change – he will sleep in his clothes, even if they are dirty. That’s what he’s used to doing when he’s camped out on missions with the Royal Guard. That way, if something attacks in the middle of the night, he’ll be prepared.

They each lie down on their separate bedrolls, each on either side of the tent.

“Goodnight, Link.”

“Goodnight, Princess.” He rolls towards the canvas wall, not facing her.

There is a moment of quiet, but it buzzes with electricity. Link knows the princess still has something else to say.

He has a feeling he knows what it is. He dreads it.

“Link…” She hesitantly speaks up again. “If you… If you have another nightmare—”

“It will not be an issue, Princess,” he intones.

“I never said it would be. I’m just saying, if you have another one… I will be here.”

Silence fills the tent again. There are crickets and nocturnal birds somewhere in the distance outside.

“…Thank you, Princess,” Link finally says.

He can tell there is a smile in her voice when she replies. “You’re welcome, my knight.”

Something warm stirs in his chest, but he pushes the feelings away.

When he feels the pull of sleep come for him, he reluctantly does not fight against it.

Discipline is to step into discomfort over and over again, he tells himself.

Chapter Text

“Master…”

That woman’s voice again – ethereal and soft. It echoes from somewhere far ahead of Link, down the dark and misty hallway he finds himself in. The giant roots of a tree have broken through the stone walls around him, forcing their curling tendrils inside. Ferns grow in the nooks and crannies between the bricks, and glowing blue mushrooms lend the space its only light source – dim and eerie.

There is faint music playing somewhere… Somewhere far away, drifting towards him from a distance. Perhaps down the hallway, along with the ethereal voice. Or perhaps it is not there at all, just a figment of his mind.

“Master, hear me…”

Link’s pointed ears twitch. That voice is so familiar, and yet… he cannot place it. She is talking to him. She has to be. But then, why does she call him ‘Master’?

He steps forward into the misty air and dim blue light of the hallway, his steps echoing against the flagstones. He is wearing his blue Champion’s uniform. The weight of the Master Sword is heavy on his back.

“Follow me.”

Link turns the corner, and he sees a flash of movement – a blue light brighter than any of the faintly-glowing mushrooms around him. But in an instant, it is gone, disappearing down a winding stairwell before him.

His pace quickens.

He descends the stairs, traveling deeper into whatever dark labyrinth he has found himself in. He draws his blade and cuts his way through cobwebs and vines, chasing the distant voice. She said to follow her, and something in his soul just knows that he needs to do as she says.

The stairway ends and the space opens up into a large room. The tree roots here are even larger, as wide as tree trunks themselves, coiling down from the vaulted ceiling. Tiny blue lights dance through the air, floating amongst the mist – tiny insects perhaps, or spores from the mushrooms. The floor is uneven – two raised platforms connected by a thin bridge with no railing.

Link’s gaze settles on the wall at the far end of the room, and he catches the exact moment the bright light from before phases through a door. For the brief moment it’s within view, he can make out its shape – a figure of a woman, cloaked in blue and purple.

“Master Link…”

He runs. He is so close.

He sprints to the edge of the platform, not slowing down as he reaches the precarious bridge. As he crosses, chasm below yawns beneath him, plunging into endless darkness. The vastness of it makes him dizzy, so he keeps his eyes forward, towards the direction the bright light went. But the dizziness does not stop. The world seems to warp and distort around him, twisting like the roots and vines that hang from the ceiling. The bridge curves beneath his feet, as if he’s now walking sideways, then upside-down. No matter how far he rushes forward, the door ahead of him doesn’t seem to get any closer. But he keeps running. No matter how dizzy and disoriented he feels, he keeps running. He will reach the voice calling out to him.

His mind swims, scrambling to think straight. The void looms below him – below, above, he does not know which way is up or down anymore. He vaguely remembers that it’s not supposed to be like this. This room was not disorienting when he visited it before. This bridge crossed over shallow water, not the endless void. The water level had risen when he hit the red crystals with his slingshot. And he had unlocked the door ahead of him with a small silver key.

Yes, he remembers now. The door ahead of him awaits, unlocked, and on its other side will be Zelda. That is why he has come here, to Skyview Temple – to rescue Zelda. She had fallen through the clouds, down to the Surface, and Link must find her. The voice – the voice of the woman cloaked in blue and purple – she had told him this, back inside the statue of the Goddess, up in Skyloft. She had told him he must fulfill his destiny. She had called him the Goddess’s Chosen Hero.

The room is twisting, twisting. The roots and vines seem to reach out, trying to wrap around him, trying to hold him back. The tiny lights dance in front of his dizzy vision. He can barely keep himself upright, threatening to slip and fall into whatever direction gravity takes him. But he keeps running. He is on a mission, and he will see it through. He keeps running. The other side of the chasm is almost within reach. Zelda is in the next room over.

Finally, he crashes against the interlocking stone blocks that comprise the door. His hands scramble for purchase, fingers darting over the Loftwing carvings embedded in the stone, trying to find a way to open it. It’s unlocked, he knows it is unlocked – he was the one to unlock it. He just needs to find the doorknob, the handle, something. The world still spins around him, and the roots and vines reach out to try and pull him away.

The stone blocks begin to shake under his hands. They shift against each other, releasing a groaning, grating sound into the air. The blocks pull upwards, slowly revealing the darkness of the next room. Can’t this thing open any faster? The leaves of the vines lick against his ankles, grasping for him—

They lose their grip as Link falls – falls through the door, as if it is underneath him. He tumbles through the air, and the world seems to unwind around him, quickling shifting back into its proper position. It gives Link whiplash, and then—

The music abruptly stops as he lands against a hard surface.

The world is finally still and quiet. Link takes a heaving, ragged breath, then drags himself up onto his feet.

He is in a new room. Is it the next room? Is this another room entirely? He does not know. He is struggling to remember now. Where is he again? Why was he…

The voice. He was following that mysterious, ethereal voice… Who was she? Would he ever reach her? Would he ever get to meet her, and find out who that voice belonged to?

His eyes scan the circular chamber he finds himself in now. The is a mosaic of a yellow sun paved into the floor, but the room is anything but bright to match it. Instead, this place is as dark and misty as the room he was just in.

“Oh, dear,” a new voice says behind him. “How unfortunate.”

And suddenly, there is music floating through his head again.

Link turns around in an instant, sinking into his fighting stance like an animal ready to pounce. A man stands on the other side of the room – pale hair draped over one of his eyes, pale body draped with crimson robes. His voice had been like ice against Link’s back, frigid and cold, and dripping with a horrible saccharine sweetness. It made Link’s hairs stand on end, instinctively knowing that this man is dangerous.

“I’m so sorry to disappoint you,” the man drawls, a wide grin spreading across his face. “But it seems that you have found the wrong sword.”

Link’s eyebrows furrow, uncomprehending. The man throws back his head with laughter.

“Do you not remember me? Oh, that hurts my feelings, Link. I know it’s been a long, long time, but after everything we went through together, I thought you would at least have the decency to recognize me.”

Link doesn’t understand, but that doesn’t matter now. If they are to fight, then Link will fight as he always does. He stays calm and composed, eyes alert and calculating, focusing on nothing else but the opponent in front of him.

The man frowns, crossing his pale blue-gray arms. His cloak shifts as he moves, and Link sees that it is lined with a pattern of golden diamonds. “Hmm. You’re no fun. The version of you that I knew was so much more… expressive. Innocent, I suppose you could say. His anger – his fear – would show so clearly on his face. It was so easy to toy with his emotions.”

So this is a man from his past – one of his pasts. ‘Innocent’ he had described his old self. Perhaps this man knew the thirteen-year-old boy trapped in the twenty-year-old man’s body.

The man chuckles again, dark and spine-chilling. “No, no, no. I met you long before that boy was born. The last time I spoke to you in person, you were the first you. I guess it makes sense that you lost the innocence he once had, doesn’t it? Your soul is much older now. Much more experienced.”

Link’s eyes twitch wider for a moment – how did this man know what he was thinking? But then the realization dawns on him—

He is dreaming.

Link’s thoughts can be read in his dreams, just like the mask salesman had told him before.

“Clever boy,” the pale man commends, too-sweet tone on his tongue. Then he huffs an overly-dramatic sigh and starts to step forward. “I suppose, if you truly don’t remember me, I shall introduce myself to you once again. I am the Demon Lord Ghirahim, servant of the Demon King Demise – although, these days his spirit tends to go by the name of Ganon.”

Servant of Ganon. Link tenses all over, and that feeling of danger rises in his chest.

“You used to make me so angry, back in the day. I’m almost embarrassed how often you were able to get under my skin.” Ghirahim stops once he’s mere inches in front of Link, leaning forward into Link’s impassive face. “But that’s all water under the bridge now, yes? It’s time to start this cosmic dance all over again. I hope you’re not getting tired of it, because I sure am not. You may have struck down my master in every era before this, but not this time. This time my master will rise. I know it. I can feel it.”

His opponent is too close. Link’s battle reflexes trigger and he draws his sword, swinging outward.

But Ghirahim just catches the sharp edge of the blade in his bare hand, dark crimson magic swirling around his fingers

He does not flinch. He does not bleed.

He only smiles.

“Oh, and hello to you, too,” he croons, seemingly not addressing Link anymore. Instead, his eyes trail down the length of the Master Sword, giving it his full attention. He grips its blade tight in his hand – still not breaking his skin – and Link is unable to pull the blade away. “How nice it is to see you again, little bluebird. Are you ready for the cycle to repeat once again?”

At last, Link manages to pull the Master Sword free from Ghirahim’s grasp. He doesn’t hesitate to swing at him again, but Ghirahim just deflects the blow with a mere wave of his hand.

“She and I – we used to be friends, you know. Eons ago.” He sighs wistfully, but Link is confused as to whom he’s talking about. “The two of us once served the Goddess together, back before my master was even created.”

Link decides he doesn’t care what any of that could mean, focusing only on the opponent in front of him. He lunges forward, but once again Ghirahim catches the tip of the Master Sword, dark magic churning in his palm. 

“Alright, boy. You want to fight?” He narrows his eyes at Link. The red cloak around him disappears in a scattering of diamond-shaped magic. “Fine with me.”

Link pulls his sword free and swings again, then again. But every time he attacks, Ghirahim deflects him easily with just one hand. Link finally hops back and starts to slowly circle his opponent, keeping his eyes trained on him. He needs to rethink his attack strategy.

“We’ve fought here once before, you know.” Ghirahim gazes around the domed ceiling of the room. “A shame that you seemed to have forgotten. But I rather like the idea of a rematch.” With his crimson magic, he summons a pair of kunai knives from thin air. He snaps his fingers, and the knives streak towards Link as fast as lightning. 

Link parries them perfectly with his sword, reflexes as fast as ever. The knives clang against his blade and are sent flying into the ground, disappearing into puffs of red and gold diamonds.

“You are much better than you were during that first fight,” Ghirahim praises. “I’m looking forward to really battling you once again – once I am in the hands of my master.” He holds out his hand, and a thin saber appears in his grasp. He twirls the blade in a flourish, and a dark void-like trail follows behind it as it moves through the air. “I am going to savor the moment that we strike you down for good.”

Ghirahim rushes forward, shadow flowing from his sword like a fountain of darkness. He swings down and Link blocks the attack, but Ghirahim’s sheer strength causes Link’s arms to tremble. He doesn’t remember the last time he fought an opponent this strong, other than some massive beast like a Lynal. This man is not a mere mortal, that much is for sure.

Their swords clash again and again. Link grunts and shouts with each attack, his bones heavy with exertion. Ghirahim moves casually, aloofly –  keeping his posture relaxed, sometimes even tauntingly holding one hand behind his back. It is one of the most evenly-matched battles Link has ever been in – dream or not – and the fact that his opponent is clearly holding back his full power infuriates him.

“There we go. There’s the angry face I remember,” Ghirahim coos. “Maybe you’re not so different from your first incarnation after all.”

The Master Sword cuts through the air again. This time Ghirahim ducks and takes the opportunity to lash out at Link’s legs. Link rolls backwards out of the way, but in a split second Ghirahim disappears into a flash of red and gold, then instantly reappears standing above him, looming over Link on the ground, shadowy blade at Link’s throat.

Link startles back, palms sliding against the cold mosaic tiles of the floor. He quickly holds up the Master Sword, but Ghirahim just pushes the tip of his saber closer to Link’s neck. He sucks in a breath, leaning his head back as far away as he can.

“You like to think of yourself as a kind of weapon, right?” Ghirahim asks. While his voice is still sickly sweet, it has hardened into something more threatening now, and his eyes gleam with a genuine hatred that Link has rarely ever been on the receiving end of before. “A weapon made to be wielded by the Goddess herself, as if you were a sword in her hands. Isn’t that right?”

Link swallows. Ghirahim speaks the truth. Link prides himself in being the Goddess’s weapon, destined to fulfill the role she has chosen for him to play – even if that destiny sometimes frightens him.

He knows he does not have to nod in response. Ghirahim will read his mind.

“Good,” Ghirahim says, lightly ghosting the tip of his blade downward, as if slicing Link’s skin from his chin to his clavicle – yet he does not actually cut the skin. “Then you must know exactly how I feel. You must understand just how devoted I feel towards my master.” He leans in closer, staring Link right in the eyes. “I live to serve him. To obey his every command.”

The scary thing is that Link does understand. He understands that feeling more than anything else in the world.

But he doesn’t feel that way towards the Goddess Hylia – the Goddess who seems to have long abandoned the mortal world.

No, the only person he feels that way towards – the only person he is that devoted to, the person that he worships – is Princess Zelda.

Ghirahim’s eyes widen. Shock paints his face for the first time in their whole conversation. He pulls back, his sword dissolving into shadow and evaporating into the air.

And he laughs.

“Oh, you foolish boy!” He barely manages to speak in the breaths between his laughter. “Your spirit may be ancient by now, but your new mind still has so much to learn!”

He steps away, gaining a hold of his composure again. Link takes the opportunity to stand up.

“You’re lucky I can’t actually kill you in a mere dream.” Ghirahim flicks his hand, gesturing around the room as if he is gesturing to the very fact that they are in a dream. “Or else I would’ve slit your throat right then and there. But that’s alright. We will meet again soon enough in the physical world, when I am back in my master’s hands. Then we will battle for real. I told you just as much, millenia ago, if you can remember – You and I, we’re bound by a thread of fate. Destined to fight.”

He disappears again in a flash of red and gold diamonds, and in the next moment he is right behind Link – mouth just next to Link’s ear, and the sharp point of his saber’s blade pressed between Link’s shoulder blades.

“Go ahead, Hero of Hyrule. Wake up. Tell the Goddess I said hello. And if you manage to speak to my dear bluebird, tell her I hope to see her again on the battlefield soon.”

Before Link can process any of what Ghirahim means, he feels the blade run through his chest, the music stops, and everything goes black.

—— ▴△▴ ——

Link wakes with a sharp inhale. He shoots upward on his bedroll, hands frantically grabbing at his heart. But there is no wound, no blood.

Despite that, he feels a scream in his throat. He swallows it down, choking on it with a whine. He is shaking, hyperventilating, his mind struggling to come out of the dream and return to reality. But adrenaline is coursing through his veins, convincing him that danger is everywhere. His heart is pounding in his chest, as if he is truly in a life or death situation. His brain is still full of the fog of waking up, and he can’t think straight. Ghirahim said he will see them soon. What if soon is now? What if he and the Demon King he serves are on their way here? What if they come after the princess?

A hand touches his back.

All his brain can conjure up is Ghirahim behind him, the cool metal of the blade against him—

He acts on instinct – a soldier’s instinct that has been drilled into him since he was a child. There is a hand on his back, and in less than a second he has turned around and grabbed that hand in a vice grip, reflexes guiding him as he pins his attacker to the floor. In the same moment, his other hand grabs the hilt of the Master Sword that lays within reach beside his bedroll. The steel rings as he unsheathes it, whipping it through the air to hold it to his opponent’s neck—

“Link!”

And with that single word, the fog in his head suddenly lifts. He becomes more aware of where he is – the Spring of Courage, in the tent. It is dark, still night outside. Focus returns to his eyes, and he is horrified by what he sees.

There was no opponent. It is the princess who he has pinned under him.

And her eyes – she looks terrified.

With another sharp inhale of breath, he startles backwards, the Master Sword clattering to the stone-paved ground beside him. He pushes himself back until he feels the cloth of the tent behind him. He pulls his knees to his chest and drags a hand through his hair. He is hyperventilating again, and he is so in shock by what he’s done that the thought of doing breathing exercises doesn’t even enter his mind. His gaze is trained on the furs of his bedroll beneath him. He does not look up at her. He cannot look up at her.

He… He can’t believe that he… that he…

The princess calls his name again, this time in a much softer tone, “Link…”

“My actions are unforgivable, Your Highness.” His voice is mangled with guilt – adding to its usual deeper, coarser tone that comes from just waking up. A sob is trapped in his throat, practically clawing its way up to his mouth to escape. He suppresses it.

“N-No, I— I’m sorry,” she responds. He doesn’t know the expression on her face. He cannot look up at her. “I shouldn’t have touched you without—”

“You have nothing to apologize for, Princess. I am the one who—”

“Enough.”

A small sense of assertiveness has entered her voice, her royal strength returning to her after getting over her initial shock. But even if she hadn’t sounded that way, Link would’ve obeyed her just as fast. His mouth closes his an audible click, teeth slightly chattering as the adrenaline rushing through him makes his muscles spasm and shiver.

He hears the fur of his bedroll rustle, his senses hyper-aware of every little noise around him, and soon the princess’s folded legs enter his peripheral vision. She’s moved closer to him, even after what he just did to her. Even after he held his blade to her throat.

Her voice is still soft when she speaks again. “What can I do to help?”

“I don’t think I should be around you, Princess.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“I swore to protect you,” he says in a weak whisper. The sob in his throat bubbles its way up his throat. His body continues to shake uncontrollably as tears prick at his eyes. He feels too frozen to wipe them away. “I swore to protect you with that very sword, and I turned it on you.”

“Link…” He sees the edge of her hand reach towards him, then hesitate and pull away. “It’s not your fault. You weren’t thinking straight.”

“More than enough reason to remove me from my position as your knight. I am not of sound mind. I am a danger to you.”

“I’m not removing you from you position, Link.” The hand reaches out again. “Can… Can I come closer?”

He doesn’t answer right away. He just sits there, hugging his knees, muscles twitching with panic, tears pooling in his eyes. He is afraid. He is afraid of hurting her. But eventually he determines that he’s able to control himself now, so he nods – a sharp, jerking, desperate motion.

He sees her scoot closer, until her knees are touching his legs. He flinches slightly at the contact, but he doesn’t move, doesn’t reach for the sword.

“I am going to put my hands on you. Is that alright?”

He doesn’t know if that’s a good idea right now, but the princess has phrased the question like it is an order – ‘I am going to put my hands on you’   – and he can’t help but do as she commands. Goddess above, he wants nothing more right now than to not have to think, to just do as she says, to be guided by the princess’s words – to be her conduit, her servant, her weapon.

He nods again, even more desperate.

He sees her arms reach out again – slow, projected movements, ones Link could stop if he wanted to. Her hands land gently against his shoulders, and he exhales a shuddering breath. His eyes flutter closed, and the tears spill out, running down his cheeks.

“That’s it, Link. Breathe.”

His princess has given him an order, so he will obey. He will always obey.

He breathes in the way his Commanders have taught him – inhale for four counts, hold, exhale for four counts, hold, repeat. Deep, slow, controlled breaths, as if he was being graded on how well he was doing them. He wants to obey the princess to the best of his abilities. He just wants to be good.

The princess’s hands wander, and he doesn’t protest. He is her weapon. She may wield him however she desires.

Her fingers graze across his face, under his eyes and across his cheekbones. She is wiping away his tears, he realizes. He feels he should be embarrassed, but the act is so gentle and caring that he can’t bring himself to feel anything but relaxed. His steady breaths hitch for a moment, before returning to their consistent rhythm.

The princess’s hands return to his shoulders, then trail lightly down his arms. She caresses over his sleeves slowly, syncing with breaths. The grounding feeling unwinds all the tension in his muscles. His shoulders fall and his head droops forward, overcome with relief.

The dream feels so far away now. He has never felt more present in his entire life.

“There we go. Good,” the princess says in a low whisper. Link feels a shiver go up his spine. Good.

He nods, head still hanging forward over his bent knees. He knows he should sit up straight, that his posture should be perfect before the princess, but… he is letting himself have this. He needs this. Protocol be damned.

The princess speaks up again, voice at a more regular volume. “…Do you want to talk about the nightmare?”

“No,” Link says raggedly, much too quickly. The single word is quiet in an exhaled breath. He hates how it sounds like he’s begging.

“Alright then,” the princess responds – understanding, immediately accepting. Link is grateful. “Would you like to talk about something else, then? Distract your mind a little?”

“Yes. Please.” He remembers how that had helped back at the Temple of Time, how the conversation pulled his attention out of his frantic thoughts.

“Okay.” The princess’s hands are still on his arms. Her fingers run slowly over his forearms, his wrists, then his callused hands. She takes his right hand in hers, maneuvering it slightly, examining the faded mark between his thumb and forefinger. “Tell me about this scar.”

“Cut myself by accident on my father’s old sword,” Link answers. “I was very little. Just started learning combat.”

“Your father let you use his sword when you were just a child?” The princess huffs a small laugh, as if this is one of their usual conversations and Link isn’t coming down from a panic attack. He is thankful for the attempt at normalcy. “Surely it must’ve been as tall as you at the time.”

Link thinks back on the memory – his memory, not some centuries-old vision from one of his past lives. He remembers sneaking past his father – who was busy taking care of the horses – to grab the sword in its sheath, leaning against the wooden fence.

He can’t help himself. His panic has pushed him to exhaustion, and he is not as in control of himself as he usually would be.

He smiles.

He exhales through his nose in what could be considered a laugh.

“No, he… He didn’t let me. I took it when he wasn’t looking. Foolish of me.”

He has recovered enough to meet the princess’s eyes again. He lifts his head to see that she is staring at him with shock all across her face. Then she erupts into more laughter. “You stole it? You, not following the rules? I can’t— I can’t even imagine it.”

“I hadn’t learned the discipline of a soldier yet, Princess.”

“Did you break the rules often when you were little?” She is looking at him so curiously, and Link realizes that he has never really spoken to her about his childhood before. There was never a need to. Even now, there is not a need to. The princess just… wants to know.

He hesitates, embarrassed on behalf of his younger self. Then he gives a small shrug. “I tended to be… troublesome, back then.”

“So you were a little brat?”

Another strong exhale through his nose, his lips still curled into a faint smile. “…For lack of a better term.”

“That’s incredible.” Zelda beams. “I can’t believe it. Tell me more.”

Link feels much better now. His muscles are still twitching a little from the aftershocks of adrenaline, but his mind is no longer panicking. He no longer feels like he is in immediate danger.

There’s no reason he needs to bother the princess like this anymore, especially in the middle of the night.

“Perhaps in the morning, Princess,” he says, his face returning to his usual neutral expression. “You should go back to sleep.”

The princess’s face falls. The shift is instant. In one moment, she is smiling and laughing. In the next, she frowns, her eyes filling with disappointment – betrayal, even. “R-Right,” she responds curtly, clearing her throat a little. “Of course. I— Of course. Yes.”

Link furrows his eyebrows. He only desired to not bother her with his nonsense anymore. For the princess to look so sad … he doesn’t understand.

He desperately feels like he needs to make her feel better, but before he can say anything, the princess is already standing up and walking back over to her bedroll.

Link watches her step over the Master Sword, still laying clumsily against the paved stone floor. With a stabbing guilt, he is suddenly reminded of what his actions upon waking were.

When he speaks again, any hint of laughter is completely gone from his voice. “Princess, I am deeply sorry for—”

“It’s alright, Link.” The princess climbs into her bedroll. “Really. It’s fine. It was a mistake. There is nothing to apologize for – but even still, I accept your apology, if that’s what you need to hear.”

It is, but he still finds it hard to believe that he can be forgiven so quickly, so easily. “I scared you.”

“I wasn’t scared. Just… surprised.” The princess throws him a smile. “I know you’d never hurt me, Link. Even if your mind wasn’t fully there.”

Then you trust me more than I trust myself, he wants to say. But he doesn’t. Instead, he stands up to go grab the Master Sword.

He sheaths it, then hesitates with it in his hands. Instead of putting it back down, he buckles its straps across his back.

“What are you doing?” the princess asks from her bedroll.

“I am going to stand guard outside,” Link responds – impassive, his eyes steeled. He had gone to sleep in his Champion’s Tunic in case something like this happened, after all. “Just to keep you extra safe.”

“Link, you should sleep.”

His hands go still against the buckles, hesitating. ‘Should’ is not an order. ‘Should’ is a suggestion.

A suggestion that he is not going to listen to right now.

He finishes affixing his sword’s sheath to his waist. “Your Highness, forgive me, but I don’t think I could go back to sleep tonight if I tried.”

The princess frowns again – but this time, pity is mixed with the disappointment. “I understand. Go ahead.”

“Thank you, Your Highness.” He bows his head towards her, then begins to lace up his boots.

The tent fills with silence after that. Every time Link’s eyes flick over towards the princess, he sees that her eyes are locked onto him. Every time, he quickly looks away.

Once he finishes preparing all of his things, he stands up and heads towards the entrance of the tent.

Just before he goes through, he pauses, hand hesitating over the flap of canvas separating him from the outside air.

“Princess?”

“Yes, Link?”

Another beat of silence. He had just spoken to her so freely, so easily. Now that his come back to his senses, he can barely understand how he managed to do that, just moments ago.

When he speaks again, his words are stilted and inelegant, but no less honest. “Thank you for— for helping me. It really— calmed me down. I appreciate it.”

Finally, she smiles again. “You’re welcome, Link. Happy to help.”

“Yes, um— Yes. Thank you.”

He stands there awkwardly for a moment. Then he leaves into the night, the tent flap fluttering behind him.

—— ▴△▴ ——

Their next expedition is to the Spring of Power.

It is only a week after visiting the Spring of Courage. First, they returned home to the castle. Zelda had been feeling a bit more confident than usual, because she swore she was getting closer to her powers awakening. She still couldn’t actually feel her magic or anything, but she was starting to get a sense that maybe it was there, somewhere inside her

She seemed to get that sense every time Link was distressed, every time she wanted to help him. She hypothesized that it had something to do with Link’s nightmares – that perhaps they were created by dark magic, and her sealing light wanted to come out and chase the cursed dreams away. Something like that.

Surely, it wasn’t for any other reason.

However, her positive mood during their brief stop at the castle had soured, due to her father scolding her for checking the progress on the Guardians. Purah and Robbie had reached a point now where they could actually control them, and Zelda wanted to see for herself. But her father confronted her, furious, telling her to stop wasting her time and to focus solely on unlocking her magic. She tried to tell him about the progress she had just made at the Spring of Courage, but he silenced her.

Then he forbade her from having anything to do with Sheikah tech ever again.

And of course, Link witnessed all of this.

So now she is grateful to be on the carriage ride to the Spring of Power – grateful to not have to interact with her father for the next few days. Goddess above, sometimes she just hates him. She doesn’t understand why he must be so unnecessarily cruel. Can’t he see that she is trying the best she can?

Link seems to notice her dejected mood, because he keeps looking over at her – quick little flicks of his gaze, towards her and then towards the carriage window. Checking in on her. But he doesn’t dare speak.

Zelda thinks of when he woke up in their tent – how helpless he had looked, how she had managed to distract his mind.

Perhaps her mind needs some distracting right now, too.

“You never told me more about your misadventures as a child.”

Links pulls his attention away from the window and fully towards her, but still can’t seem to meet her eyes – embarrassed. “Right, Your Highness. Would you— Would you still like to—?”

“Yes, I would love to hear your stories.” And just like that, her mood is instantly improved. Excitement bubbles up in her chest, so much so that it feels like it’s overflowing out of her. Her face must be beaming with it.

Her father is so far away, back at the castle. But Link is right here, beside her. That is all that matters.

“I— I don’t quite know what kinds of stories to tell, Princess.” His words sound so wooden, so rigid. If only he could just relax, just let go, like he had done in their tent.

She desperately wants to see that smile of his again.

“Hmm… Let me think…” Zelda makes a show of putting her hand to her chin, thinking of an idea. A cheeky grin spreads across her face, the excitement continues to overflow out of her.  “How about this – What did you do as a kid that got you into the most trouble?”

By the speed at which Link’s face immediately goes red, Zelda can infer that he knows the answer to that question.

Still grinning like a cat, she pokes at his shoulder. “Oh? Got something in mind?”

“Princess, I… I’m not proud of my past actions. I—” His words falter. “ Why? Why do you want to know?”

That puts a pause on Zelda’s excitement, her face falling. “W-Well, I mean, if you’re uncomfortable with telling me, you don’t have to. I just thought…” She turns away, embarrassed. She had thought she was being playful when she’d actually just been annoying. Stupid. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“No, I— I’m not upset, Princess. I just meant…”

He trails off, searching for the words, and Zelda looks back up at him hopefully.

“…I just don’t understand why you’d… why you would care.”

“Why I’d care?”

“Yes.” The look in Link’s eyes is so sincere, so confused.

Now that she understands, Zelda’s expression softens. “Because I am your friend, Link. And I want to get to know you better – if you’ll let me.”

He just continues to stare at her, and Zelda can practically see the thoughts racing behind his eyes. He still has such a hard time understanding that she actually sees him as more than just her knight.

And by that, she means she sees him as a friend! Of course. Of course, that’s all she means.

“C’mon, Link. I promise on my honor as Princess that I will still take you seriously, no matter what silly things you did as a child.” She pokes him in the shoulder again. “How can I not, with that serious face of yours?”

He looks away, maintaining his silence. But Zelda is patient – when it comes to Link speaking freely to her, she is more patient than she’s ever been for anything before.

Finally, he mumbles his answer

“Pardon?”

Still not meeting her eyes, he speaks just a decibel louder. “…Stole a cucco from my neighbor. Jumped off the roof with it.”

Zelda erupts into laughter. “W-What?!”

“You’re able to glide through the air with them. For a little while.”

Zelda can’t get a hold of herself, doubling over and gasping for breaths between her laughs. It’s hard to even imagine it – Link, as a carefree young kid, going and stealing a cucco and using it to try and fly. It’s hard to imagine him as a carefree kid at all.

She looks over at that serious face, and sees that he’s managed to smile a little again.

—— ▴△▴ ——

After a few days of travel up through the Akkala region, they finally arrive at the Spring of Power.

It is not dilapidated as the Spring of Courage was. This Spring is surrounded by tall cliffs, which seems to have protected it from being eroded by the wind. Most of its ancient pillars are still standing tall, with only a couple of them falling into disrepair. A stone staircase leads up to a raised platform, which gives a full view of the shallow pool of the Spring – overgrown with aquatic plants and leaves, much like the Spring of Courage was. The faded eyes of the archaic goddess statue watch over her domain. Waterfalls pour down the surrounding cliffs, filling the air with comforting white noise. And the moon shines down in the night sky up above, pale and welcoming.

Link seems to be just as distracted as he was at the Spring of Courage – tensing up when he hears the waterfalls, staring for too long at the pillars – but this time Zelda tries to not pay him any mind. She’d made her position on the matter clear to him last time – she is very willing to help him. If Link wants to stew in silence again, then badgering him about it isn’t going to benefit either of them. If he wants help, she trusts him to be able to ask for it this time.

After jotting down notes about the architecture and taking some pictures with her Sheikah Slate, Zelda just changes into her white dress, steps into the springwater, and begins to pray.

Link stands guard behind her, as he always does.

Zelda tries to stay focused, but as always, it is difficult. She recites the prayers in her head, but the words always seem to not do anything. No matter how much effort she puts in, nothing special ever happens.

In the waterfall-filled silence, her mind can’t help but wander.

Her magic had seemed almost within reach after visiting the Temple of Time and the Spring of Courage, but now all that progress feels like a bunch of foolish excuses. It was barely even ‘progress’ at all, wasn’t it? She still can’t use her magic. She can’t even feel its presence inside her. All she’s been able to get is a vague sense of I think I’m getting closer…

And now, all she can think of is her father back at the castle, telling her how much of a disappointment she is.

Broken, defective, disgrace of a princess. Useless, worthless, failure of a daughter.

She usually prays silently, but her mind is too turbulent with thoughts this time. She opens her eyes and looks up at the stone goddess.

“I come seeking help,” she speaks aloud, “regarding this power that has been handed down over time.”

She wonders if Link is surprised to hear her, but she doesn’t turn around to see. Knowing him, he is still standing as rigid as one of those ancient pillars, focusing on any potential danger, the Master Sword on his back.

The sword that seals the darkness, wielded by the hero whose soul is forever bound to that sacred blade. Even though Zelda has grown far past her initial hatred of Link, she’ll admit that sometimes a pang of jealousy still shoots through her when she sees that sword in his hands.

How come it was so easy for him?

“Prayer will awaken my power to seal Ganon away – or so I’ve been told all my life. And yet…” Zelda looks down into the water. It’s much clearer than the muddy water at the Spring of Courage, and she can see the reflection of her face beside the moon’s. “Grandmother heard them – the voices from the spirit realm. And mother said her own power would develop within me.”

The reflection ripples, obscuring her face. Tears. They drop from her eyes into the water below her, becoming one with the Spring.

“But I don’t hear, or feel, anything!” Her voice cracks, but she tries to keep herself under control. “Father has told me time and time again. He always says, ‘Quit wasting your time playing at being a scholar!’” 

She thinks of her father’s words, thinks of Purah and Robbie working on the Guardians without her, thinks of how Link fits so flawlessly into his role as the Chosen Hero. Why was she given the responsibility of being the princess? Why, when her soul is so clearly not made for that role? Why can’t she spend her days doing the things she is actually good at? Why is she doomed to work towards a destiny she constantly fails to reach?

“Curse you…” She hits her hands against the surface of the water. “I’ve spent every day of my life dedicated to praying! I’ve pleaded to the spirits tied to the ancient gods! And still the holy powers have proven deaf to my devotion!”

The surface of the water doesn’t return to its calm, placid state. There are more tears, so many more than she can hold back. They ripple through the water like the hopeless thoughts that ripple through her mind.

Useless, worthless, failure of a daughter.

“Please, just tell me…” she cries out. “What is it? What’s wrong with me?!”

She doesn’t bother holding back now. She weeps, her vision blurring out to see nothing but the reflection of the moonlight in the springwater. She mourns all the hours of her life she had wasted, trying to become this person that she was never meant to be – all the extra hours she could have been studying her passions, working on new inventions, or even just relaxing. She mourns the potential she could have had if she was allowed to fully express herself.

She is so caught up in her thoughts that she doesn’t even hear the splashing of water behind her. She doesn’t know Link has approached her until he steps around into her vision.

His voice is gentle, so gentle. “Princess—”

“I hate this! ” The words rip out from her throat in an undignified screech, unable to contain her rage. “I— I hate who I am! I hate that this is who I have to be!”

He stares at her for a moment, stunned. Zelda knows he has never seen her like this. No one has ever seen her like this. But she cannot take this any longer! Does she not deserve to express her frustration? Her rage? Does she not deserve to cry and scream, to fight against the bars of her metaphorical cage that have her feeling so trapped, even though she knows it will do nothing to change anything? Does she not deserve to take a break from trying her best to be a good daughter all the time?

“Princess, I— I’m…” Link reaches his hands out, but draws them back in again. He wants to comfort her, but his damn knight protocol is stopping him. Zelda’s getting a bit tired of that happening so often. Screw protocol. Screw everything. She’s too deep into her meltdown to be thinking straight.

She lurches forward into Link’s arms, the sudden movement upsetting the water around them.

She feels him go tense under her touch, but she cries against his shoulder anyway. He’s so nervous, his hands ghosting by her sides, unsure of himself.

“Can… Can you…” She whimpers the words out, not caring how pitiful she sounds. It is just the two of them here, and she knows Link would never judge her. “…Can you just hold me? Please?”

And then, it is like a switch had flipped.

“Yes, Your Highness.” Link’s tone has lost any inkling of nervousness. Now it is steady and unflinching, determined on fulfilling the orders he has been given. In an instant, his hands are on her, his arms encircling her. His callused fingers splay across the soft skin of her back – exposed due to the backless cut of her prayer dress. His other hand trails up her shoulder blade, then finds its way into her hair, holding the base of her skull as she continues to leave tear stains into his shoulder.

In the midst of all her overwhelming emotions, she feels a hint of embarrassment. “I’m sorry—”

“No need to be,” Link answers immediately. Pressed against him like this, she can hear his low, tenor-toned voice rumble from deep in his chest. “I am… here to help.”

Zelda recognizes the sentiment. It’s exactly what she herself has told Link time and time again.

She wraps her arms around his torso, fingers gripping into the cloth of his Champion’s tunic that she had been tasked with embroidering herself, all those months ago. “Th-Thank you.”

“Of course,” he responds. The hand against her back moves, soothing the anxious tension out of her spine. “I’m here, Princess. I live to serve you.”

Zelda sobs.

Goddess above, she’ll admit it now – she loves him. She loves him.

She has never felt this way about anyone else before, but she feels it so strongly now. She loves him – as a friend, or as something else, she does not know for sure. She is not familiar with feelings like this. But what she does know is that she loves him, full stop.

No one has ever cared about her like how Link cares about her. And she has never cared about anyone else like how she cares about Link.

“Keep talking,” she says in a meek whisper. “I like hearing your voice.”

“I’m here, Your Highness.” Link continues to rub her back. “I… I’m here for you. You do not have to do this alone.”

Zelda recognises these words, too. She had said the same thing to him, back at the Spring of Courage.

She lets it all out – loudly, not trying to hide any of these swirling emotions inside her anymore. She’s not embarrassed anymore. She is safe in the arms of her knight.

“Deep breaths, Your Highness,” Link says. He tells her how to breathe in the way he was taught – counting slowly, preventing hyperventilation and coaxing her mind to calm down.

She feels wrung out like a rag. All her tears have been squeezed out of her and have left her twisted up and tired. She heaves heavy breaths, suddenly exhausted.

Link’s legs shift slightly, the movement sloshing the water around their calves. “Let’s get you dried off.”

She lets him guide her back to the stone platform at the edge of the Spring. Then he brings her into their tent and she sits down on her bedroll. Wordlessly, he hands her one of the towels they have brought with them, and Zelda starts to dry off her bare legs.

“Is there anything you need?” he asks her.

She shakes her head, trying not to feel so embarrassed by her outburst. “No, thank you. I just… want to go to bed now.”

“Yes, Princess.”

Zelda continues to dry herself off. When she has finished, she looks up and sees that Link is searching tirelessly around the tent, looking through bags and under supplies that have been strewn about.

“What is it, Link?”

“I… I apologize, Princess. But I can’t seem to find your sleeping clothes.”

She furrows her eyebrows. “They should just be in my bag.”

“They are not, Your Highness.”

She is struck with a sinking feeling, and her shoulders fall, sighing. “Damn it. I must’ve been so angry with my father and in such a rush to leave that I forgot to pack them.” Self-loathing fills her even more. She can’t seem to do anything right. “That’s okay. I’ll just sleep in my clothes tonight, like you do—”

“No. No, you mustn’t.” Link looks at her very seriously, eyebrows furrowed. “You are the princess. You deserve to sleep comfortably.” He then digs through his own bag, pulling out a simple linen shirt and pants. “Here.”

She takes them from his outstretched hands, then holds up the shirt by the collar. She recognizes those broad shoulders. “These are yours.”

“I wasn’t going to wear them anyway.”

Zelda is, in all honesty, too exhausted to argue. She knows Link is right – he’ll be too antsy tonight to sleep in anything else but his full gear.

“Thank you, Link.”

He gives her a nod, then silently leaves the tent, giving her privacy.

She quickly changes out of her prayer dress, perhaps using too much force as she pulls it from her body. While it’s a lovely dress, she’s so tired of it. She’s so tired of failing while wearing it. She’s tired of everything it represents. She’s tired.

She changes into the soft clothes Link has lent her. He is only an inch or so taller than her, so the pants fit her perfectly. The shirt mostly fits as well, although the wider shoulders fall in an oversized way around her smaller frame. The wide collar sits off-center, and slips down her shoulder a little bit. Zelda doesn’t care enough to fix it.

“You can come back in, Link.”

The tent flap opens, the moonlight pouring in for a moment until Link’s shadow blocks it. He stops in his tracks when he sees Zelda.

He is staring at her.

She tilts her head. “What is it?”

“Nothing!” He quickly blurts out, turning away to hide his face and heading over to his bedroll. Zelda could have sworn his cheeks and ears were a little pink, but it’s hard to see in the dark of the night. “Goodnight, Your Highness.”

“Goodnight, Link,” Zelda says back. “And… Thank you. For being here for me.”

“Of course. Anything for you, Princess.” He looks over at her again. “If you need anything else, just tell me. Wake me up if you need to.”

After a moment of hesitation, she nods. “Alright, Link.”

And with that, he lays down on his bed of furs.

Zelda feels her face heat up, blushing. She can’t help it. When Link tells her things like that… When he’s just so damn devoted … Goddess above, she loves him.

She lays down on her own bedroll, facing the canvas wall of the tent.

The clothes she was lent smell like fresh, clean linen – but also, faintly, of Link.

Even when he is across the room, he is still surrounding her, comforting her, keeping her safe.

—— ▴△▴ ——

In the middle of the night, Zelda is woken up to a strange noise.

Groggily, she sits up. It sounds like there is something… whimpering. Like a wounded dog, or some other kind of animal.

She turns to Link to alert him, but—

Oh.

The source of the noise is Link.

He is crying in his sleep, just like he had been at the Temple of Time. His entire body is shaking, and his head tosses and turns across his pillow restlessly.

Zelda can’t just stand by and do nothing. She goes to wake him.

Although, she’s learned her lesson now. First, she moves the Master Sword far out of reach.

“Link…” Zelda knees beside him, trying to wake him without touching him. “Link, wake up. It’s just another nightmare.”

It doesn’t work at all. Link is still writhing beside her. His arm twitches at his side, jerking out slightly with flexed fingers – as if trying to reach out.

Zelda sighs. Hesitantly, she gently touches his shoulder.

Immediately, Link wakes up.

But this time, he doesn’t even attempt to reach for his blade.

“Impa! ”

Link shouts at the top of his lungs and shoots up into a sitting position. His gaze is delirious and unseeing. There are tracks of tears drying against his cheeks, and his body is still shaking.

“Impa, please! I’m sorry! I won’t be late again!” Link continues to cry. He sounds so desperate, his voice breaking. It is like nothing Zelda’s ever heard from him before. He sounds so undisciplined, so informal, so… naive. “Please! I promise I won’t fail next time—”

“Link! Link, it’s me. It’s just me.”

At the sound of her voice, his eyebrows knit together, confused. His eyes meet hers, and a sense of awareness seems to come to him – but his feverish gaze still seems unfocused and far away.

“Zelda …” Link lights up, smiling wide. Innocent. “You’re here …”

Zelda can’t help but straighten her posture in surprise. She had never seen Link smile so openly in her life. And Link has never called her by her name – he is far too obsessed with using proper titles.

But what he does next shocks her even more.

“Oh, thank the goddess, you’re here!” Link’s eyes are still unfocused.

In his delirium, he reaches out to hug her.

He wraps his arms around her tightly, in a way that seems so familiar to him, as if this is as natural to him as breathing. “I wasn’t late! I wasn’t late this time…”

When she finally breaks out of her shock, Zelda replies. “Yes Link, I’m right here. We’re up in Akkala, at the Spring of Power. Impa is all the way back at the castle… Remember?”

Link goes still. His hold on Zelda loosens a little, so she leans back, looking him in the eyes again. She can tell his mind is racing.

“Link?”

“I-I apologize, Princess.” Link flinches backwards, quickly pushing himself away from her. Once he’s safely on the other side of his bedroll, he bows his head in deference. His voice and expression are completely back to normal. “Th-That was— That was wildly inappropriate of me. I don’t know what— what came over me—”

“It’s alright, Link. It’s fine,” Zelda assures him. She can’t help but giggle a little. Based on Link’s response, one would think he had done something horrible, when all he did was embrace her and call her by her name. “I don’t mind. Besides, you just hugged me earlier when I… when I was upset.”

“You had ordered me to then.”

A frown twitches at her lips. “Yes, but… I wouldn’t have minded if you did, even if I hadn’t ordered you to.”

Link just stares at her blankly. She can’t tell if he can even comprehend her words. Perhaps his mind is still too muddled in the confusion of waking up from that dream.

Speaking of which – “Do you want to talk about your dream?” she asks.

Link shakes his head. “No, I— I am alright.”

“This one didn’t seem so bad.”

“You are correct, Princess.” Link rubs his temples with his thumbs. “Nothing too bad. Just made me feel… guilty, I guess. But that is all.”

“Guilty?” Zelda’s perks up. Link has never mentioned any details of his dreams before. While this is barely any information, it is still something.

Link notices what he’s said as well and immediately tenses. “Apologies, Princess. I do not mean to burden you with the nonsense I must deal with.”

Zelda shakes her head. “How many times must I tell you, Link…”

She reaches forward, cradling Link’s face in her hand.

“…I am here for you, just as you are for me.”

His eyes close at her gentle touch, and he seems to relax. When his eyes open again, he looks more present. Zelda hopes the meaning of her words was also able to get through to him.

“Thank you, Princess,” Link says softly.

He takes a deep breath. When he exhales, he ever so slightly leans into her touch, eyelids drooping drowsily. Cute.

Zelda hopes her blush is not too obvious.

There is a lightness in her chest – it’s that coaxing sensation that she has been hoping is a hint of her powers within her. To sense it now, once again after helping Link with his dreams – that must mean something. She must be getting closer. She hopes so.

“Perhaps, you will be able to fall back asleep tonight,” she suggests. The ‘unlike last time’ goes unspoken.

“I… I think I will, Your Highness.” Link yawns, his jaw stretching in Zelda’s hand. “Thank you. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, my knight.”

At the use of his title, she feels him shiver under her touch, before finally pulling away to lie down on his bedroll again. He falls back asleep almost instantly.

As Zelda returns to her own bedroll, a million questions swirl in her mind. She hates not knowing things, and there is so much about Link’s dreams that she is dying to know. How often do they occur? What happens in them? Why is he so reluctant to tell her or anyone else about them? Why is it that her powers might be linked to them?

She falls back asleep, Link’s clothes still wrapped around her.