Archive of Our Own ^beta

Obviously when considering the savior of Hyrule, Zelda knew one of many things. First, Link was simply Link. They were brave and warm-hearted and dedicated — to a fault, of course, but no one is perfect. Was it enough of a headache to always be worrying when they went out into danger? Yes. Was it even more so when he came back bleeding from who knows what? Yes. And yet, Zelda hadn't managed to like him any less. Honestly, it was part of the charm she was growing more used to every day.

She wished she could see into that little hollow head of his sometimes. What was going on in there? What secrets did it have locked under tight chains, only to (hopefully) be coaxed out one day? Zelda could only wonder. It was a fascinating pass-time when they were out on another adventure. 

Secondly, the part that gave her the most headaches was how stubborn he was. They would follow an order if she got stern enough, but otherwise, she had to fend off a heart attack after a short (but sweet) argument about how, yeah, it was a good idea to go on a quest alone for a week, only to come back with half of their pack missing and a shallow gash on their head. But, Link was Link. Zelda had been gone too long to have the right to demand anything of him, especially after becoming a dragon for...how many years? Thousands? It was still spotty. Not the before and after, however. Waking up then...it was the first time she had ever seen Link come so close to crying. The image burned into her eyes so clearly, even still.

Finally, and last but not least, was sleep. Neither were good at it. Zelda had lost the skill long ago, having been responsible for keeping back Calamity Ganon for a hundred years. Link was tasked with stopping him and freeing her. Both of them were incredibly exhausted afterwards, but it was awkward. It wasn't familiar, yet. When Link offered their home, she was so beyond thankful — to basically a stranger of all people — and that was that. She re-learned everything about him. The quirks, the mannerisms, the feelings he'd hidden so far down they had almost forgotten themself. Zelda was there for some more re-sparking of memories, too. Happy and sad.

Hateno was quiet. Both of their minds were loud, especially at night. The weeks following that first big battle were grueling on their re-acquainting senses. Zelda was sore all of the time but couldn't lie still. Link wouldn't even blink until they were sure she was asleep first, and that often took a while. The struggle didn't last forever, though. With time, the mental holes and marks began to scar over and heal. Sleeping through the night felt like it was worth a party, but there was only the brief acknowledgement of "how well-rested I feel" and getting on with the day ahead. After all, there was still so much to do.

The routine began like any other. Sleep felt less like a chore and more like a regular Hylian function and, after some more time, the bed wasn't barred with two stiff bodies, instead settled by two people amalgamated into one. Close. Personal. Like it had seemingly meant to be all along. Zelda felt at home, finally. Perhaps they both did after a while of no fighting.

But it had to start again some time. She just had to press further and explore deeper. Perhaps if she wasn't so concerned with that gloom, none of it would have happened. Perhaps it was unavoidable. Perhaps anything at all. But Link had to suffer as a result. She knew it, even in the past. So the only way to make it better? Make it worse. Swallowing the stone.

Now when imagining sleep, she was under the impression Link did not get much at all for...days? Weeks? Maybe even months? Time flowed all funny as the being she'd transformed into. There were sensations, feelings, but no memories. The feeling of her mane being grabbed, or brushed through. The sensation of whispers into her large ears as tears pooled in her gigantic eyes. The weight of boots on her snout, of eyes boring into unrecognized familiarity. The stabbing of the Master Sword, and how relieving it felt for it to be gone. Oh, Hylia, they were probably so angry with her.

Awakening, truly awakening, from the dream the thousands of years it'd been wasn't easy either. Talking didn't feel real, at first, nor did breathing or blinking or even standing, but as all things, it grew manageable. Link was there as they had always been. He was watching like never before. As if she would disappear if he blinked or even turned his head. It was tragic to re-learn their face all over again, but it was made easy by how surprisingly open they were.

In private, words were shared, grievances and complaints from both sides. Zelda listened to them all — that he was so defeated after seeing what'd happened, but had to fight on anyway. She could only apologize, but he promised her it wasn't because of her. It just was. And Link was Link — the blame game lasted a century, why not a while more? Zelda shared that habit as well.

Sleeping was harder after that. The first night was easy. It felt so natural, an arm around another, legs intercrossed like laces of a shoe. Waking up to the other's scent and questioning if she'd really gone back to normal, or if he smelled that different. Then, it grew into the repetitive wake up and lie around until sleep came. Sometimes she'd find Link out of bed and by the door or a window, watching. Waiting. She would approach their back, footsteps loud on purpose, and telling them to come back to bed. Other days she'd be staring at a cup at the dining table like it wasn't a cup, or was it? What was a cup? And Link would be down in no time at all to say yes, that is a cup, and "you need to stop wandering off where I can't see you."

And Zelda would ask that morning if she'd woken up at all. And Link would shrug, "for only a minute or two." An hour, it would be. Maybe two, if she'd gone far away enough. Maybe that's why they'd hold on so tight in the early hours.

Anyways, sleeping. The Demon King was thankfully long gone. Hyrule was moving on. As much as it could, anyways. Zelda and Link would go about their lives in tandem, or separate until nightfall. She would clean, he would cook, and off to bed they went. Link would explore for a day while Zelda took her time reading, before ruining two perfectly good meals by the time they got back, to which he'd politely tell her to get away from any food so they could fix it. And she'd thank them with a soft, teasing slap on the shoulder, but both would smile.

One thing Zelda knew, with no shadow of a doubt, is that Link did not sleep enough. Never. It didn't matter if he was out for two full days. That was unhealthy! Then it'd be a couple of hours, and then an hour, and then no hours until he was so exhausted she banned him from getting out of bed. Sometimes she would find him on the floor. How can that be comfortable? she'd ask herself, as if it didn't make perfect sense for the traveler before her. She would sit down next to him as he slept, and eventually her shoulder would become his pillow as his weight shifted. It was instinctive, he swore it up and down.

But when the bed didn't work, or the floor, or a table or even outside, Zelda could notice he could even knock out while standing up! She had never seen anyone have such a...talent? Before? But apparently they were a pro. It had only lasted a couple of minutes the first time she saw it, and when Link had snapped awake he was quick to dismiss the event ever occurring in the first place. Not sleepy whatsoever. She allowed it. The first time.

The next couple of times had stopped being random. They obviously trusted her. Why not use it? Test it, just a bit, to see if she would look out for them? When at a far away stable looking at horses (as if neither of theirs were nearby), Link would feel that tiredness creep up his back as he took up leaning on a nearby wall. For just a second his eyes would close. Zelda, nearby, petting a supposedly difficult mare's mane, like it was suddenly a hundred percent obedient. And she'd turn, notice them, and walk over with a quiet voice and ask, "would you like to stop now?" And his eyes would snap open. "No," he'd say, "take your time." Often that didn't help, but it seemed to soothe the ever-growing line of concern on her brow.

Zelda was aware. Link was Link, after all. They were a moron, but also incredibly smart, incredibly perceptive. She knew it wasn't necessarily a test, but decades worth of stoicism slowly unraveling right before her eyes. The nights would still be hard. The days would go on, dragging themselves out. Routine, routine. Feeling, action, blah blah blah. But those little blips of guard being down...it was relished. Even in their own home. Zelda hated to call it exclusively hers, and it seemed the sentiment was shared. So it was both.

One night in particular stuck out to her. Zelda remembered being by the Lookout, and others like Purah and some other Sheikah discussing improvements for communication and traveling. She would have gone alone, but Link insisted. It was later in the day and walking around Hyrule at night could be "too dangerous," he had insisted, even with the puzzled expression on the ex-princesses face. "Too dangerous? But the Demon King—"

"Just let me go with you," he had insisted. She sighed then, shaking her head, and walked out the door with another word, because she knew he was right behind her. They obviously could not disappoint her prediction. While at the Lookout, Link apparently hadn't anticipated how boring this would be. He was used to a quick "this is what to do, now go!" explanation. This just dragged on and on and on. Zelda, of course, was over the moon to be included, and was always happy to have an intellectual chat. 

Didn’t mean everybody was having fun, apparently. By the first hour, he was barely holding on. Not to be bragging, but they could sleep like a horse: standing up. Zelda was fully aware by this point despite the many attempts at denial. She was beginning to see the grogginess present on his face. In front of people it was less common, but Link did trust Purah, and the others there likely didn't really care what he did. So, an opportunity arose to sleep. She was reminded of the night before, where he'd seemed to have a terror that had him out of bed for a couple of hours until she could assure him that the Demon King was not coming anytime soon. She even had to bribe him with leftovers. 

So it wasn't totally unexpected to glance back at them and see their eyes closed, arms crossed like it was normal. Okay, she'd think, this meeting shouldn't last much longer, right? The meeting lasted another hour. It had derailed, obviously, but at the very least the plan for what to do next was taken care of. In the middle of that derailing Zelda had stepped closer to Link, which alerted them enough to open their eyes. Tired, the silent question was simply is it over yet? And with the sympathetic grimace of I'm afraid not, he huffed under his breath and glanced off to the side. 

Link was shorter than her. Not by much. But it was noticeable by her. Why did this matter? Because it was the perfect opportunity to be used as a standing pillow. Zelda was quiet as she tapped her own shoulder, gesturing her idea, and soon it followed. Link was all for it, if not for being in public, but she assured them that her height would cover it up just fine. Besides, no one was paying enough attention. Begrudgingly, he gave in, stepping behind her and resting his head against the back of her neck.

She still had no idea how he could even rest his eyes standing up, much less literally take a nap. But alas. Link was indeed Link. She didn't mind it, really, having now known the ex-knight for basically a century and then some. When the meeting had finally ended, he seemed to be completely out, though they had barely moved a muscle. Zelda ignored the teasing from Purah, her face going too extraordinarily red. When out of sight she awoke the sleeping beast, and they released a quiet grumble while coming to. After saying some quick goodbyes the two left and set out for home. 

The rest of the night hadn't stuck out in Zelda's memory. But that moment, so close, as if melded into one being, had struck her so deeply it didn't even make sense! The feelings were already in the open, but there was no name, no official-ness to it, to them, so the two simply were. As usual. Link and Zelda, princess and knight, travelers and fighters and more. It was in the two's DNA to not make any sense. Clearly.

Moments like it followed, though still more in private, as Link was simply a reserved person. A closed door that just needed a special key. Zelda held it. The lock was withered, but it would open most of the time, since she had become a skilled locksmith. Engineering around it to get through to the heart. Link trusted that, trusted her, to keep standing when the world was just so exhausting. They just needed a nap sometimes, the moron. As much as Zelda wanted it to be at night, like a healthy way to live, Link was Link. She wouldn't have it any other way. Even standing up.