The hard journey was over at last.
The coolness radiating from the stone walls of the North Castle… The warmth of the Triforce of Courage in his hand, feeling right in a way that Power and Wisdom hadn't, as if the luminous golden triangle could melt into his skin… The silence that promised peace, not hidden dangers…
Link could feel that it was over.
The Triforce Keeper had transported him back here by magic, directly from the heart of the Great Palace. His skin still stung at every motion from the burns the Thunderbird had left. His bones still ached and his cuts still burned from the blows of the shadow he had fought at the end…
He doubted whether medicine, spells, or fairies could soothe the lingering pain of that battle. That dark sword had spoken as clearly as words, and even when his shield had held back the edge, it hadn't saved him from feeling the meaning, boast and accusation mingled in each stroke.
Rigidity — Nothing can move me from my charge. And how was he any different in his determination to complete his quest?
Violence — I will kill anyone who opposes me. How was he any different, having cut his way through this far with his sword?
Arrogance — No one is as strong as me. How was he any different, thinking himself the hero of the land?
And finally, subtly…
Bitterness — How long will I have to go on like this? Why does it have to be me?
Link wasn't sure he could have won if not for that last fatal flaw, if the shadow hadn't held within it some deep longing for the release of defeat. Was he any different even in that? He shuddered to think of the times when he had found it hard to go on, when he'd collapsed into some hospitable bed half-wishing that morning would never come.
But he let those thoughts go. Now it was finished, and in a better way than that — a happy ending, surely. His aching body had begun blissfully to relax, and even the pain took on a deep, familiar softness, as if he could wrap himself in it and drift off to sleep.
There was just one thing left to do first.
Impa was waiting for him behind the sealed door. When she saw the Triforce of Courage in his hand, she brought out a wooden tray carved with the crest of Hyrule, bearing the Triforce of Power and the Triforce of Wisdom.
"It is just as I believed," she said. "The time has come at last." As she held out the tray, her hands shook.
Link hesitated.
He remembered the scroll where it was written that to use the Triforce "requires a strong character with no evil thoughts." It had also said, "There is nothing to fear. You are the one," but that couldn't be true; the battle with the shadow had shown him that all too clearly.
If he tried to use the Triforce's power to protect Hyrule, would he give in to those evil thoughts — that grim, prideful determination to destroy anyone in his way? The final, bitter wish for the end? A world ruled by that would be even worse.
As he hesitated, he looked up at the princess lying on the altar — the original, true Princess Zelda, who had slept there for hundreds of years. He knew at once that he couldn't leave her like that. If the Triforce was the way to wake her… If he could wish for only that one thing, there would be no danger in it, surely. It would be enough for now.
He stretched out his hand to fit the Triforce of Courage into place, into the lower right point that would complete the crest.
The three triangles glowed. He could hear them singing. The instant their corners touched, Link felt the sound of them resonating together conducted through his whole body — breathtakingly powerful, unbearably beautiful. He pulled his hand away.
Even as he did, the Triforce rose from the tray. Impa gasped as the three pieces danced through the air and came to hover above the sleeping princess.
All at once, the room was bathed in golden light and power. The sensation of it was warm yet bracing — and brief. Reassuringly so, as if to say, Just as you ask: I grant you this one wish and nothing more.
Link blinked the dazzle from his eyes. He saw Zelda stir and sit up on the altar, her first motions in centuries; the sight awed him as deeply as the power of the Triforce. For a moment she stared up at the three golden triangles still floating above her, then she looked around. Her face came into focus, and he could see the life in her eyes, the intelligence taking in everything she saw.
As her gaze fell on Impa, her brows lowered. For one moment, Link had a terrible intimation that waking the princess was not such a simple ending — but then she turned toward him, caught her breath, and smiled brilliantly.
"Link!"
She knew him! She must have seen him, dreamed of him in her sleep.
She reached out toward him, and he lent his hands to help her down from the altar and the dais. His muscles still ached and his burns still stung with each step. He might at least have asked the Triforce to do something about that, but he hadn't, and now it seemed there'd been no need. Despite the pain and fatigue, he felt like he could do anything.
As he led Zelda down the last step to the floor, she caught a glimpse of the mark on his left hand and gasped again. She turned it fully into view and stared for a moment, then started to laugh.
"I might have known!" she said. Apparently her dreams hadn't shown her that detail. Now it was his turn to catch his breath as she threw her arms around his neck. "I might have known that it would be you. That you'd find a way to save Hyrule again, like the hero you are." She pulled him toward her.
Out of the corner of his eye, Link just saw Impa's hand fly to her face to cover joy or shock or both, and then Zelda's lips touched his.
She must have seen it all in her dreams — his battle with Ganon, the years of struggle, and now this. He might have been chilled by the thought — and by such sudden affection — but somehow it only seemed right. After the hard journey, this was the happy ending, with someone who had known him all along.
He hugged her close and returned the kiss, and when their lips parted and he again saw her keen, smiling eyes, it seemed to him that he had known the person behind them all along.
For a long moment, the two of them looked at each other.
Then, Zelda's brows lowered. That perceptive gaze narrowed. Her eyes widened suddenly — coldly! — and she thrust Link away with such force that only defensive instinct kept him on his feet. In an instant, she fixed him with an imperious glare and demanded, "Who are you!?"
He gaped at her, stupid with surprise. It was Impa who spoke. "Your highness, this is Link —"
"Don't try to trick me!" Zelda snapped before Impa could utter another word. "Do you think I don't know my best friend? Link does not have green eyes!"
It was absurd, surreal, as if he were the one seeing her in a dream. Link was seized with an uncharacteristic impulse to speak up — Yes, I do; I always have — but before the words reached his throat, he remembered.
The old tomes and tapestries the other Zelda had shown him after he rescued her from Ganon… They were full of heroes, who all looked strangely like himself. He'd never thought to notice the color of their eyes.
What this Zelda had seen wasn't a dream of his own adventures; it was one of those old stories that she had lived through centuries ago. It was one of those heroes she had smiled to see and meant to kiss — a friend from her own time.
"My brother's magician is behind this, isn't he?" she was saying, as Impa tried in vain to placate her. Her face and bearing slackened then, but she was not placated. "The magician… It was a sleeping curse he was casting…"
"Yes, princess," Impa told her. "This young man has just recovered the Triforce of Courage and broken the curse."
She had fallen silent; her hands rose to her mouth. "How long…?"
The old nursemaid took a deep breath, as if bracing herself would brace the princess for the blow. "It has been seven hundred years."
Years enough for her friend — for everyone she had known — to be long, long dead.
Zelda made a strange, small sound and began to tremble. Link stepped in behind her, hands outstretched to support her if she should faint.
Instead, she began to scream.
Stumbling backward, recoiling from the terrible truth, she collided with Link and threw them both off balance. In the blank shock of the fall, he managed to catch himself on his arm, and he felt Zelda land on his sore body — so at least he cushioned one small impact for her. She scrambled to get away from him, screaming and sobbing. She blindly pushed off against his ribs, against a spot where the shadow-sword had gotten past his shield and grazed him. He sucked air through his teeth at the fresh burst of pain and felt fresh blood soak into his clothes.
He braced a hand on the floor, meaning to get up, but strength and will failed him. There was no reason to get up. His exhaustion and pain reached out to enfold him, and there was no reason to resist. There was nothing he could do for Zelda now — nothing except remind her of what she had lost. No magical power, not even the Triforce, could or should erase her grief.
He'd been a fool, just like when he was nine years old and thought that saving the princess would make everything "happily ever after." Again, he remembered the tomes and tapestries, the other heroes. Some of them had been pictured with the complete Triforce in their hands, and yet there was never any happily ever after, it just went on and on…
Was it his own shadow that he had fought in the heart of the Great Palace, or could it have been one of those other heroes? Could it even have been Zelda's friend?
Would he go on this way, like they had, until only the violence and bitterness were left — until he was a shadow, too?
Voices tickled his ear, one of them close and insistent. In the darkness behind his still-closed eyelids he brought them into focus just enough to hear. The princess was still choking on sobs. Impa was calling "Can you hear me?"
He nodded silently, his cheek against his shoulder. She said something else then, but he let the sound flow past him. He had done enough for now.
He knew already that he would get up and go on, but that was later.
Now, rest.
However brief the rest might be.
End