Chapter Text
Contrary to what he had believed earlier, Sky was not the champion sleeper he thought he was.
Not tonight, anyway. Maybe it was the five hour nap he’d taken back on Skyloft, or maybe the casserole Time attempted to make for dinner hadn’t agreed with him. Whatever the cause, he had now been lying here for precisely three and a half hours, and he was still as wide awake as ever.
Sky sighed, pushing himself up on his elbows and glancing at Wild and Legend, his current guardians who were asleep on either side of him. Maybe if he was quiet enough, they wouldn’t wake up.
Carefully he crept from beneath the covers and scooted down to the edge of the bed, where he dug his sailcloth from his pack and burrowed into it like a blanket before scrawling a quick message on a scrap of paper. He stuck it to Wild’s forehead in case anyone woke and noticed he was missing, then crept out into the hall. The stairs creaked loudly beneath his bare feet, and he caught his breath for a moment before sneaking into the kitchen.
He winced as he reached above his head to open a cupboard— he was healing, but his body was still sore, especially since he’d been lying still for an extended period of time. Quietly Sky fumbled around, searching through cupboard after cupboard, but he didn’t find what he was looking for— one of Luv’s sleeping potions.
He frowned. Zelda had always used to keep a healthy supply of them in the kitchen, for the days— more frequent than he liked to admit— that Sky slept in till late afternoon and then couldn’t fall asleep later that night. Everyone on Skyloft had always liked to joke about how he could fall asleep anywhere, but insomnia was something that troubled him more than anyone would think.
Sky sighed, giving up his search for a potion and instead creeping to a side door of the house and slipping outside. The night air was chilly, enough to make him shiver and burrow deeper into his sailcloth, but he elected to ignore it, moving quietly away from the house into the woods.
An owl hooted somewhere in the distance as Sky padded barefoot through the grass, not sure of where exactly he was going. Maybe some fresh air would help him sleep better, he reasoned, or maybe walking would tire him out enough. Either way, it couldn't hurt him to go on a short walk, especially not on such a gorgeous night - the moon was nearly full, outshining all but the brightest of stars, and silvery shadows were cast everywhere around him, transforming the Surface into a world of magic.
Sky hummed under his breath as he walked, sailcloth trailing behind him and wind ruffling his hair. He didn’t realize he was headed for the Sealed Temple until he was almost on top of the small cliff leading up to its side door, only needing to jump down from a small ledge to reach the area that would lead him to the foot of the cliff. He did so slowly, hesitating before scaling the vines that grew on the side of the cliff and then coming to a halt at the top.
The side doors of the temple were only a few yards away, but for a moment Sky simply stood and looked at them. After his quest ended he had come to the Sealed Temple nearly every day, spending hours sitting by the sword in its pedestal and talking to her. In the first few weeks, he used to imagine he could hear her voice answering him back— cold and metallic, giving him love advice and telling him what herbs worked best for sore muscles and answering all his questions about the surface. But as time passed, her voice had faded in his head, until eventually the only thing he had heard in reply was his own thoughts.
That was around the time he stopped coming to speak with her, because it hurt too much to finally know for certain that she wouldn’t answer him again, that she couldn’t, because she was gone forever and she was never coming back.
But tonight, something snapped inside of him, and he broke into a run towards the temple doors as fast as he could, breath sawing in his chest. The sword wasn’t there right now, of course, but the temple was the last place he had seen Fi face-to-face, so somehow it felt more like speaking to her. He had talked to the sword during his travels with the chain, but, though Fi was still within the sword itself, there had never been an answer. Just silence, cold and empty. And somehow that had felt worse to him than the thought of sitting in an empty temple and speaking to a ghost who wasn’t there.
Sky slowed down as he approached the steps dipping down towards the side entrance, coming to a halt just in front of the weathered stone doors and reaching a hand out towards one of them. He hadn’t been here in what felt like years, though the reality was much shorter. Standing in front of the doors again brought a strange kind of longing to his chest, a sensation he thought he would never feel again. A strange thrill, a curiosity as to what lay ahead. He used to experience it before the start of each new dungeon, or when he arrived in a new location. A yearning, almost, a wild desire to uncover every secret that time had concealed from view.
That excitement had faded over time, though, till it was something so foreign he thought he must have dreamed it. But now it was back, pounding in his heart like thunder, even though he already knew what lay beyond this door.
Old stone. Wet moss. Hollow echoes. Painful memories seared with grief.
Sky released a long exhale, head tipping back to look at the stars as his hand moved slowly away from the door.
“What am I doing here?” he murmured to the night, but there was no answer. Just the soft whisper of wind in the trees overhead, the rustle of it in his hair.
Sky thinned his lips and reached for the doors again with shaking hands. Painful memories or not, something inside of him needed to go in here, needed…something. Even if Fi wasn’t there. Even if it was just him, whispering secrets to the silence.
The doors groaned and shuddered as he shouldered them open; evidently no one else had been in here either while he was away, at least not through this entrance. He flinched a little at the resounding thud the doors made as they slammed shut behind him; ever since his quest, he hadn’t been too fond of doors that closed on their own, sealing him in rooms where ancient horrors slumbered.
Sky took a few cautious steps into the temple, glancing briefly around at the shadowy structures and alcoves before pacing softly up the small flight of stairs that led to the back room of the temple. There, beyond the inner set of doors hanging crooked on their hinges, was the pedestal where he and Fi had said farewell, where the Master Sword had stood in silence at the end of Sky’s quest. He had tended to it dutifully for a while, keeping the visible portion free of dust and debris, but eventually after the visits became too painful and he stopped coming it had turned gray with a layer of dust.
Now it was gone, back with one of the chain at the Surface settlement, and Sky was standing before the empty pedestal, his chest suddenly tight.
Several moments went by before he settled cross-legged onto the stone floor beside the pedestal, propping his chin on one fist and looking at the pedestal in silence. “Hello, Fi,” he said quietly after a few seconds, imagining for a brief moment that the sword was before him, back in its rightful place of rest. “How are you doing? I haven’t spoken to you in a while.”
He fell silent for a moment, closing his eyes and listening to the slow drip, drip of water on the floor somewhere and the rustle of trees drifting through a hole in the ceiling. It felt strange to be here again, after so much time had passed. He could still recall the first time he had come in here, shortly after he left Skyloft for the first time— the ancient, mossy smell of the temple that gradually settled deep into his bones, the scuffing of his boots on the floor, the shafts of sunlight that poured in through a hole in the ceiling and illuminated the clouds of dust in the air. And the sense, the tangible feeling that Zelda had been there not too long before, but he just hadn’t been fast enough to catch up to her.
“I wish you could tell me what to do, Fi.” Sky’s voice echoed through the massive room. “I feel so lost. You’d think there would be some way to fix this, but…”
He sighed, tipping his head back to look at the stars through the gap in the ceiling. “Though lately it hasn’t been so bad,” he amended, tracing a finger through the layer of dust on the stone floor. “Maybe rebuilding the relationships I had before isn’t as terrible as it sounded. I mean, I’ll always miss the memories I had with them, and the fact that they can’t remember, but maybe making new memories is the key to rising above this. Don’t you think?”
Silence. Sky swallowed, brushing his fingers against the engravings on the side of the pedestal. “I’m sure you would be horrified if you knew you had burned me,” he murmured. “But it wasn’t your fault. It was mine, honestly. I went into the stupid cave in the first place; it’s my fault I got cursed. I would’ve burned me, too.”
He got to his feet, pacing slowly around the room and trying to mull through his thoughts. This was the chamber where Zelda had sealed herself. He could still see a few shards of amber crystal here and there amongst the dirt and crumbled stone on the ground, or peeking out from the vines that choked the walls. Fi had told him sometime after Zelda sealed herself that she had done what she thought was best, but secretly he knew it was her way of apologizing for what she put him through. A heartfelt repentance for something that didn’t even merit his anger.
It wasn’t her fault, just like the curse on his spirit wasn’t his. He saw that now. They were just kids, and there was only so much they could do. Hylia had sacrificed everything to save her people, and that had been enough. He couldn’t blame her for choosing him. And he couldn’t blame himself for what Demise had done— or for the runes now etched into his skin. Things happened, and sometimes there was nothing anyone could do to stop them, no matter how hard they tried.
He stepped back into the main room of the temple, letting his eyes trace the memories— the empty wooden chest in one corner by the stairs, the giant tree in the alcove, the now-empty place where the Gate of Time had spun. If he focused hard enough, he could see old Impa seated at the top of the dais, braid swinging rhythmically back and forth, bracelet glinting on one shriveled wrist. He could feel the earth shaking below his feet as the Imprisoned burst forth from its seal, sending cataclysmic rumbles through the soles of his boots. He could hear Groose’s bragging echoing through the walls of the temple. He could smell the sharp tang of magic, left behind like a cloud of poison after Ghirahim whisked Zelda away into the past.
And he could see himself, small, fierce, his skin covered in cuts and scrapes and bruises, his tunic riddled with holes and ash, dirt smeared on his face and blood on his hands. Taking everything that came at him and choosing not to let it defeat him. Forcing himself on and on and on, to the next dungeon, past the next monster, through the next door, closer and closer to Zelda with every step. Fi at his side and a shield at his back and a wild mix of love and courage in his heart.
A soft sky child who plummeted to the earth with broken wings, and found that he could run.
That boy’s shadow— Link’s shadow, the Link with a cracked shield and a broken ankle and nothing but audacity to fuel him— stretched out before Sky now, eerie and wavering on the floor of the temple. He stared at it, almost tasting the metallic grit of blood on his tongue as his shadow spat it out. Almost smelling the smoke that had seared into his clothes. Almost feeling the mix of grit and sweat and sand that covered his skin as he struggled to fix his shield. Almost hearing the indignant chimes of Fi, who hovered above him and insisted that he should seek medical attention immediately, or his search for Zelda would be hindered and he might injure himself even worse later on.
Sky blinked, and all the memories disappeared from his view. His shadow returned to normal— a broken, barefoot boy, a shell of the hero he used to be, draped in a threadbare sailcloth. Fi’s voice faded away, replaced by the slow drip of water.
So many ghosts haunting him tonight.
Sky sighed, turning and shuffling back up the steps of the dais to Fi’s pedestal. “I shouldn’t have come here,” he murmured, curling into a ball on the cold stone floor and closing his eyes. “Too many memories.”
He lay in silence for a few minutes, listening to the dripping water and the rush of wind and the muffled thump of his own heartbeat, echoing dully in his ears. He thought he might find something by coming in here, but now he felt colder and emptier than before. As if he came in searching for something, and lost something else he didn’t even know was there.
“Sky?”
The voice, paired with the groaning of the temple doors opening, startled him, so much that he somehow managed to whack his head against the Master Sword’s pedestal as he jolted upright. He flinched, a hiss of pain escaping him as he brought one hand up to his head. No blood, which didn’t surprise him. He’d been decked by a literal boulder during his quest; a mere whack to the head wouldn’t do much.
He glanced over his shoulder to see Zelda standing near the side entrance, pushing one of the doors closed and wincing. “Sorry,” she said apologetically. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“It’s fine,” Sky answered, rubbing his head with one hand and shifting into a cross-legged position again. “I thought I was alone, that’s all.”
“Well, you were,” she returned, coming up the steps towards him and sitting on the ground a few feet away. “Till now.”
An awkward silence settled over them. Sky glanced discreetly at Zelda out of the corner of his eye– she was barefoot like him, wrapped in her favorite knitted shawl with her hair braided out of her face. He remembered when she made that shawl a few years ago– she had spent several days on it, holed up in her room and not coming out unless he went in and physically dragged her outside to eat or get fresh air. It was her best work yet, knitted with a lavender-colored yarn and full of fancy stitches and little flowers she had carefully sewn on afterwards, and she had been so proud of it when she finished, all but sprinting to Sky’s room and donning it for his approval. The yarn was faded and fuzzy now, worn and damaged from years of use, but Zelda had staunchly declared that she would wear it till it fell apart because she didn’t care how broken it was; she still loved it anyway.
…Oh.
Maybe that applied to people, too.
Sky cleared his throat, feeling his face warm at the thought as he rubbed the back of his neck. “Did you, uh, follow me here?” he asked a bit hoarsely.
“...Would you believe me if I said no?”
He chuckled a bit, pulling his knees up to his chest and folding his arms around them. “I know you too well, so no, I wouldn’t.”
Zelda raised an eyebrow at him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Sky snorted, ducking his head a little beneath her gaze. “It means that we’ve always followed each other everywhere, ever since we were kids, and I don’t think you forgetting me would change that.”
“Ah.”
Another silence settled over them. Sky bit his lip, rocking back and forth a little and trying to think of something to say, but it was Zelda who spoke first. “So…why did you come here?”
“Oh, um–” He sighed, thinking over how to phrase it. “Well, ah, after my quest I used to come and talk to Fi, and I wanted to do that again, I guess? I–I know she isn’t here right now, but it felt more like talking to her than talking to the sword did, if that makes any sense.”
Zelda nodded, propping her chin in one hand and looking thoughtful. “It does,” she said, shivering a little and wrapping her shawl more tightly around her before adding a bit shyly, “What were you talking to her about?”
“Not much, really.” Sky shrugged. “Just…asking what I should do, and talking through my situation a bit. For instance, I think I’ve realized that maybe it’s not worth it to dwell so much on what I’ve lost, but rather that I should dwell on what I still do have.”
Zelda tilted her head, giving him an introspective look. “And what do you still have?” she asked quietly. Like she wanted him to say something specific but wasn’t sure how to ask.
He returned her gaze, heart skipping a beat when he saw that her face was just as pink as his, even in the shadows of the temple. “Well, I have the chain, and Crimson, and…and I have you,” he answered, just as quietly. “Even if you all don’t remember me, that doesn’t mean I can’t make new memories.”
Zelda looked away, a bitter look entering her expression as she looked down at her hands. “Only to a certain extent, though,” she murmured, gaze darkening further. “I mean, I can’t hug you, or hold your hand, or–”
Sky was sure his face was redder than Crimson’s feathers at this point as he leaned forward and interrupted, “You mean…you want to? You– want to hug me, and hold my hand, and–?”
And do you want to kiss me as much as I want to kiss you?
Zelda’s face reddened, and she looked away, biting her lip. “It feels weird saying this, because I don’t have any memories of you. It’s like I just met you, but it also feels like I’ve known you for…centuries. But– yes. Yes, I do want to. I wish I could, but–” She glanced at her hands again. “Stupid magic.”
“Ah, yes,” Sky sighed. “I feel like a lot of problems could be easily solved if magic had just…never existed. Or maybe they would be worse if it wasn’t there.” He gave her a rueful grin, head tipping slightly to one side. “But I guess we’ll never know.”
She hummed in reply, slumping forward a little with her hands on either side of her neck. A few moments of silence went by before she said quietly, “I’m sorry I hurt you. The other day– before we knew that touching me would–” She trailed into silence, a sheen of tears filling her eyes.
Sky blinked, taken aback by the statement for a moment before he leaned towards her and said fiercely, “Hey, no. You didn’t hurt me, alright? I didn’t even feel it.”
She shrank away from him a little, taken aback by his sudden aggression, so Sky softened his tone and continued gently, “You couldn’t have known, so don’t blame yourself. It wasn’t your fault, okay?”
“Okay,” Zelda whispered, a tear rolling down her cheek. “I just…I’m sorry about everything . I know you’ve been through so much, your whole life– and it’s mostly because of me, you know? Because I’m Hylia and I made you do all this, and now you’re stuck with a curse and I can’t do anything to fix it, I’d just hurt you again–”
“Hey!” Sky reached out his hand towards her, stopping it only an inch or so from her own. “Again, it’s not your fault. None of this is. I know you don’t remember now, but after my quest you had a lot of moments like this where you felt like it was somehow your fault for what I went through. But it wasn’t, okay? You gave up everything you had for your people, just so they could have a chance. You never made me do anything. I did it completely of my own volition, and I’d do it all over again, a thousand times.” He softened his voice, leaning forward slightly to meet her downcast gaze. “Please believe me?”
She sniffled, lifting a hand to wipe away tears with one sleeve and nodding. “Okay,” she murmured. “I just– I hate that I can’t remember. Maybe I’d feel less guilty if I could, if I knew that what you were saying really was true– but I don’t know you that well right now, do I? I– I have to take you at your word. And I can do that, I can , but it’s– it’s difficult to believe that you really went through all of that because you wanted to. I would never do all of that for me, so I don’t see why you would, either,” she finished, barely audible.
Sky stared at her in disbelief. “You don’t think you’re worth what I went through?” he whispered. “Zel, believe me, you’re worth so much more than that. I would have died for you if that’s what it took to make you safe. I would have endured endless torture, I–
“But that’s what makes me feel so horrible,” Zelda interrupted, tears running down her cheeks. “You shouldn’t have to feel that way. You should feel free, and– and happy, and not like you have the weight of the world on your shoulders, but from all I’ve heard from the other Links about their own quests that must be exactly what you feel. I know that as Hylia I gave up a lot, but it wasn’t enough. Not for me to ask all this of you. Not to make you go through so much for a girl you thought you cared for, when really I was just manipulating you and your emotions. Pulling the strings in the background like– like you were my own personal puppet.”
“What strings were you pulling?” Sky exclaimed, frustration welling within him because no matter what he said, she still refused to see his point of view. “I told you, I did everything out of my own free will. Because I wanted to. Because I loved you! Because I still do love you!”
His words ricocheted off the walls of the temple, becoming fainter with each second, and in the fading echoes Zelda went white as a sheet.
“But you shouldn’t,” she whispered, shaking her head. “Did…did I ever realize that, before you got cursed? Did I ever realize that whatever love you had for me was forced by my own hand? Sky, you– you can’t love me. Not really. You love the idea of me. Childhood friends…that’s what we were, right? That’s what you love. You don’t really love me. You can’t . I– I used you.”
“No, you didn’t use me! You told me the exact same thing when I first found out you were Hylia,” Sky shot back, desperate for her to hear what he was saying. “I didn’t believe you then, and I don’t believe you now. What do I have to do to show you I mean it, that I don’t just love you because you forced me to? I’m not your puppet! I’m not under a spell! I love you because I love you! Because you’re Zelda, my best friend, my soulmate, not because you created me to love you centuries ago. What further proof–”
He cut himself off just then as a sudden thought crept into his mind. “I told you I would die for you,” he continued quietly after a moment. “And this is nowhere close to that, but maybe, since you don’t remember what I went through to get you back, this can be a start for proving how much I love you.”
Zelda’s eyes widened in panic. “Sky, no, what–”
She was cut off by Sky leaning forward and pressing his lips to hers, featherlight. In spite of the curse, in spite of the magic within her, in spite of the pain that flared in his body at the contact, in spite of his heart thudding wildly in his ears. In spite of everything. Somehow he had to show her that his words were true. And maybe this wasn’t the best way, but if he could prove it to her, even with the pain, even with–
But Zelda pulled away mere seconds later, scrambling backwards and looking terrified. “Why did you do that?” she cried. “I’m hurting you! You could need stitches again!” She was sobbing, much like she had been on the day when they discovered her touch hurt him. “You– you shouldn’t have to prove that you love me. I’m sorry I made you think that, I didn’t mean it– it’s just so hard for me to believe someone could love me that much, without me manipulating you somehow. But– but hurting yourself to prove it, that’s not what I meant, that’s not what I wanted, I– I’m so sorry I made you think that way, please–”
“But I just wanted you to know,” Sky said desperately, his own vision blurring. “I couldn’t think of any other way–”
“But you shouldn’t have to,” she exclaimed again, tears flowing freely down her cheeks. “If I’ve made you think you have to prove yourself to me then– then maybe I’m a monster, or something. Maybe I’ve always been the monster.”
“No, you’re not a monster!” Sky jumped to his feet, reaching out for her even as she backed away from him. “You’re not! I– I shouldn’t have done that, I agree, but–”
Zelda suddenly froze, her gaze zoning in on his face. “Sky, wait, there’s–” She clasped a hand over her mouth, staring at him in horror and taking another step backwards, then another. “I did that. I did that, didn’t I? That– that wasn’t there before.”
“What wasn’t?” He returned her gaze in confusion, reaching half-consciously to touch his face. His fingers brushed against what felt like grooves on each of his cheeks, on his forehead, on his chin, and when he pulled his hand away there was a faint coppery tinge on his fingertips. Somehow, through his brief contact with Zelda’s magic just now, more runes had become visible, this time on his face. Whether that was because of how strong her magic was, or the magic coming into contact with his face this time through the kiss, or something else, the curse had made itself known once again.
“I knew I would hurt you,” Zelda sobbed. “I made it worse somehow. I, I don’t know how, but I told you it was my fault. I told you–”
Shaking, she turned and bolted for the side doors of the temple, her shawl falling to the ground and landing in a puddle of water as she fled. “Zelda, no, wait!” Sky cried, reaching out for her, but the doors slammed shut behind her and she was gone before he could draw another breath.
Sky sank to his knees, trembling. “What have I done?” he whispered. He thought tonight had been good, that he had come to terms with the curse, that he had resolved to make new memories instead of dwelling on the past. But that resolve had vanished the moment he saw her, the moment he remembered again all he had lost. She cared about him still– she had to, based on how she’d been acting, and how distraught she’d become– but she couldn’t fully grasp that he loved her. And she couldn’t remember that her past self, the girl who knew everything about him, had been able to forgive herself for what she’d done as Hylia, had come to accept that his love for her was true and genuine and that she hadn’t forced it in any way.
Numbly Sky reached for her shawl, lifting it and doing his best to wipe the dirt off before he hugged it to his chest. “I’m sorry,” he said hoarsely to the darkness, his eyes welling with tears. “I didn’t mean it.”
I just wish you could remember. I wish you could know that you’ve already forgiven yourself, but you don’t remember that now. And I don’t know how to fix it.
He got slowly to his feet, moving towards the main doors of the temple– the ones that led out into the Sealed Grounds. The doors creaked and groaned beneath his hands, much like the other set had done, but he barely noticed as he shuffled between them and out into the grass beyond. He didn’t notice them slamming shut behind him, either, or the sudden chill of wind on his skin, or the gleam of stars overhead. All he noticed was the sudden spurt of panic in his chest, followed by another, and another, until he was all but reeling.
Not again. Please, not again. I thought– I thought I was better, I thought I was okay–
Zelda’s shawl slipped from his hands, and Sky fell to his hands and knees in the grass, the air suddenly sharp and angry in his lungs. He was breathing fast, too fast, so fast he couldn't control it, so fast his body shuddered as it struggled to process each inhale. Blood pounded through his veins with an almost explosive force, making his head spin as he tried and failed to control his breathing. His eyes darted wildly from side to side, fingers clenching desperately into the grass as his chest heaved with every breath. Everything felt somehow too real and yet at the same time had the watery, otherworldly tang of a dream, like he was caught between the borders of lies and reality. Like he was floating far, far away even while his hands were pressing into the earth.
Sky closed his eyes. In, out. In, out.
I thought I was doing so well. But I guess it was a lie.
In, out. In, out.
Maybe I should just never say or do anything, ever again–
There was a rustling nearby, and then a faint whine met Sky’s ears, followed by the light pressure of something fuzzy against his neck and the warmth of someone exhaling. He lifted his head, managing to catch his breath for a moment as he looked at the giant gray beast that had appeared before him, its blue eyes worried and sad.
“Hey, Wolfie,” Sky was able to whisper.
The wolf whined again in response, pink tongue darting out to lick Sky’s cheek. The chosen hero swallowed tightly and shifted into a crouch, chin resting on his arms, tears dripping slowly onto the grass. He rocked silently back and forth for a moment, arms wrapped so tightly around himself he was sure his ribs would break, before a sob tore from his lungs, forcing its way between his teeth. Sky’s final barricade gave way, and he crumpled, arms winding around Wolfie’s neck, face burying itself in the beast’s thick fur as he sobbed.
“I thought I could do it,” he cried, entire body shaking. “I thought I could do it. I thought it was getting better, and that it wasn’t as bad as it seemed, but I messed everything up again. Just like I always do.”
A soft whimper escaped the wolf, and he turned his head to lick Sky’s cheek a second time as if to say it’ll be okay .
Sky didn’t believe it, though. He had told himself that too many times lately, and each time he was proven wrong. He was tired of hoping. Not tired enough to lose himself to the darkness he’d been stuck in days before, but tired enough to not risk hoping for anything else.
I’m sorry , he thought. I can’t try any more.
Around them the shadows lengthened as the night grew deeper, but Sky didn’t move. He simply clung to Wolfie’s neck and sobbed until, too exhausted to stay awake any longer, he let the world fade away into darkness.