The sky was stained a murky pink and purple, orange sun beams splaying to the navy darkness hanging in the distance, stars beginning to speckle along the horizon. Link and Zelda had been wandering the Akkala region for what felt like days, when really only a mere five hours had passed. Their job, once to announce the arrival of a new dawn to every village, had quickly become janitorial work as they collected scraps left over from the war. The princess insisted they should also continue to scour the land for research purposes, but Link knew she carried a heavy guilt atop her breast. She would not rest until she felt she had helped clean up the wreckage born from her inability to harness her power sooner. She was foolish to think that the events of the past 100 years had been her fault, but Link had no intention of trying to convince her otherwise. She was a wildfire— bright, bold, and all-consuming in her passion. There was no stopping her once she had taken off.
As of late, Link had recalled nearly all of his memories, save for a few gaps in history here and there. However, Zelda still felt like a ghost to him—familiar but distant enough that he couldn't quite make himself comfortable in her presence. Something hung heavy between them, something unsaid for a century, but both were unable to speak the same language: Link in his silence and Zelda in her constant prattling. The tension followed the two like a fog.
"...And quite frankly, I feel if I can collect enough of the specimen, I can create a remedy worthy of the goddess Hylia herself! But," she heaved, attempting to remove a large guardian arm from the roots of an old oak, "I desperately need more of the ancient equipment in order to cook it up fast enough. The metal contained in the mechanisms unleashes a completely new property in the snail shell, one that is digestible as well as tasty, if I do say so myself."
She gave the arm another rough pull, relieving it from its muddy grave and falling backwards onto her bottom with a loud thud. Link instinctively jolted upright, ensuring she was ok before relaxing back into his spot in the grass. His reflexes were still prepared for danger, needing to constantly remind himself that the only threat to Zelda's wellbeing was her own inherit clumsiness. He watched as she bounced right back up to her feet, pointing an enthusiastic finger at the guardian arm proudly, her mouth agape and eyes wide. Link felt the corners of his lips tug upward, stifling a chuckle that threatened to escape his throat.
"Are you laughing at me?" She huffed, placing a hand on her hip. Link's eyes rolled playfully to the side, avoiding her gaze. "Oh, I see how it is. You don't think the flu remedy is worthy of your time, do you? Well, we shall see what jest you find when you are sick and I refuse to share any medications with you."
His laugh burst from his stomach, echoing across the green lands surrounding them. He quickly tried to smother his outburst in attempts to tease her further. She scowled, dropping the arm and wiping her dirt covered hands along her trousers.
"Fine then. If you think developing a vaccination is dull, then I won't waste my time any further. I was simply trying to better the lives of Hylians everywher— whoa!" She yelped as her foot hooked through the appendage she had just discarded, tripping her to her knees.
Link was by her side in an instant, his arm hovering over her shoulders as he prepared to lift her to her feet. Her emerald eyes met with his before she burst into fits of laughter. He ignored her hysterics, taking her wrists and inspecting her hands for any injury. Her skin was soft— was it always like this? He searched his mind for a trace of familiarity, but found nothing. The tender touch of her body was a new memory, one that burned from his brain to his feet.
Collecting his memories had told him that this bizarre woman had loved him a century earlier. Although her determination never failed to amuse him, the Link of the past forbid himself from ever letting her know that he returned the feelings she harbored for him. He was controlled, serious, focused—abstaining from her was simple when he had such an important duty to fulfill. But now, something in her eyes struck a different chord deep within him, jostling his emotions in the pit of his stomach. He wrestled with his mind, still feeling like Link of one hundred years ago was a stranger. He was equipped with all of his past memories, but they felt more like a dream than something he had actually lived through. He had an uneasy disconnect to these old feelings, almost as if he had been reborn into a different person. Did Zelda think he was the still the same? Would she care for him if he wasn't?
Link uncomfortably shifted his gaze to anything besides her smile, finally noticing that the sun had descended far beneath the terrain and they'd need to seek shelter soon. The nights in Akkala were chilly, and Zelda was not accustomed to the temperature changes. He had an inkling that she was not ready to return to a nearby stable, so instead he opted for the piece of flint in his pocket— a fire might be a decent compromise between the two. By the time she had finally composed herself long enough to roll back onto her bottom, Link had already collected sticks for wood.
Zelda watched as Link took his seat next to her, working the flint with a small Gerudo knife. She decided to get comfortable, rolling a pant leg up her thigh, revealing the creamy-white skin hiding beneath it, untouched by sun nor man. She noticed a violet blotch spread along her knee as she aimlessly traced the outside of the shape with her finger.
"I suppose a campfire is a solid idea at this point. I didn't even realize the sun was going down! It's amazing how quickly time goes by when you're busy researching," She rambled.
"Does it hurt?" Link spoke quietly, entranced by her movement.
She paused for a moment until she realized what he was referring to. She smiled, looking at him beneath long eyelashes, "You've got plenty of them yourself. That one looks especially painful." She took a stiff finger and pressed it harder than intended on a purple mark around his elbow. His body recoiled, but his face remained unchanged, as if his mind did not register the pain like his body did.
"Did...did you even feel that?" The concern in her voice was unwavering.
Link shrugged, working diligently to start the fire up with the flint. A spark shot out and a burning red glowed from the wood.
"Odd. It seems you've almost built an immunity to bumps and bruises. I suppose your body has taken enough hits to barely even comprehend small amounts of pain. Are you used to it, do you think? Or have you just destroyed your nerves so much that you are numb?"
Link looked at her curiously, unsure how to answer the question.
Zelda was becoming impatient, taking his hand in hers and pressing down hard on his palm, "Do you feel this, yes or no?"
Link felt it, alright. Her fingers were long and delicate, even using all of her strength, it felt more like a light kiss than an act of pressure. Although, her touch did send a shot of lightening through his body once again.
She stared at him hard, waiting for an answer.
"Not really," He finally mumbled, interested to see where her curiosity would lead her.
She deflated, furrowing her brow before removing herself from him; his hand felt a chill without her company. She looked thoughtful for a moment, choosing to grip up by his arm, near where his bruise was located. She squeezed his bicep with all of her might, shaking slightly at the tension.
"How about this?"
Link shook his head negatively, his eyes locked onto hers, feeling the heat travel up his arm and down into his gut. He wished he could remember if this was how it was supposed to feel when she touched him. Even though he wasn't comfortable with his old memories, at least they provided him with some sort of guidance—these feelings were all too new for his liking. She thankfully released him, retracting her hand to her face as if to think of her next move. She cautioned herself before continuing, a solemn expression haunting her. She scooted across the ground to position herself in front of him, the light of the fire directly behind her. Inching closer, her body nearly in between his legs, she reached her hand out and rested it gently on his chest. He prayed to the goddesses that she was unable to feel his heart galloping in his rib cage.
"Can you even feel—?"
"—Yes," he responded too quickly, cursing himself for his eagerness.
Her face brightened a bit, swallowing hard before lifting her hand to cup his cheek, brushing her thumb along a hardly noticeable indent where a scar remained.
"And this?" Her eyes glimmered, her hair like a halo against the light of the fire. Link felt his insides twist.
"Yes." He breathed.
The air around them crackled with an intensity unrecognizable to either of them. The look she gave him was mysterious, some mix of pity and longing, something he struggled to comprehend. He knew that her proximity should feel normal, but why did it instead feel like his flesh was being singed with every trace of her fingertips?
The tension snapped suddenly as Zelda pulled away, folding back on her knees and giving herself some distance from him. He shivered with the cold that came with her absence, having to physically restrain himself from reaching back out to her.
Her face was stiff, her brows locked in place as she mulled something over. Finally, her visage softened, a look of relief lighting her features. She tucked her hands in between her thighs, rocking gently on her heels.
Like a flip of a switch, Zelda was back to being a researcher.
"It really is fascinating, you know. Do you recall that right there was where a guardian took your life a century ago?" She pointed to his chest where her hand once laid, "You more than likely still carry the scar. But I'm sure you already know that. Of course you know that! It is your body, after all."
She stumbled clumsily over her words, flustering Link even further. He was desperate to pull her back to him, but his memories forebode it. He was still her appointed knight, she was still the princess, and they still had a duty to Hyrule. No matter what his new wild instincts claimed, he would have to bury his feelings, just as he had done one hundred years ago.
"I have a few scars from that day, too," she pushed her sleeve up, presenting her wrist to him where a long white line reached all the way up to her elbow, "I believe this was actually from a simple tree branch. I got it on my way to seal Calamity Ganon, although I don't remember the details all too well. It's very hazy to me now, and if I didn't have this scar, I wouldn't believe I had gotten hurt at all. I was much too focused on my mission to worry about some cut. It's remarkable how things seem so different now."
Link stiffened, "Things are different?"
She laughed gently, "Well of course they are. I feel I would complain endlessly had I received this type of gash today. With the pressures of Calamity Ganon off my shoulders, I can afford to focus on little things like flesh wounds. I can finally be something other than just everyone's princess, don't you think?"
He nodded, taking in her words hungrily. A distinct feeling of hope bloomed in his chest. He was quick to stomp on it.
"...I still sometimes think it was all just a dream. I get a sense of peace believing that my father is back at the castle, scribbling down his memoirs in the library, waiting for me to return from my training. But it's these cursed scars that remind me of the truth. The agony of regret never leaves my chest. I'm trying to be kinder to myself about what had happened, but it's a daily practice. I know we've kept busy so far, but I do worry once things settle, I'll feel that consuming loneliness that taunts me so often."
Without a thought, Link launched to his knees, his face mere inches from hers. She pulled back instinctively, thinking he was about to come crashing into her. Instead, wordlessly, he leaned forward and pressed his forehead gently to hers, his hand cradling the nape of her neck. She felt a rush of tears well up in her eyes, using every ounce of her strength to quell their threats.
"I thank Hylia every day that I still have you, Hero," she swallowed.
"You have me." He repeated quietly, almost like a prayer.
She backed her head away from his only to relocate it on his shoulder, her arms snaking around his waist. He pulled her in close to complete their embrace, burying his face in her locks. The barrier he had created for himself in the past was now broken, his emotions flooding his body like a hurricane. To the goddesses with past Link's reservations! All modesty gone, he enveloped her completely, thrilled to finally have done something for himself that wasn't in accordance with his memories. Things were different now, he was different, but it was all the more reason to unleash his true intentions. There was nothing left of his past but a bucket of memories. The future could be whatever he desired.
And he desired her—his princess—as his mouth latched onto hers, a feverish and deep kiss, one that would create a new memory that could never be forgotten, even in the Shrine of Resurrection.
She broke off their contact only to look up at him through tear stained eyes and faintly mumble an "I love you" before throwing herself back into his arms.
Everything was different: Shieka technology was now understood and controlled, shrines were easily accessible, Calamity Ganon had been defeated, and the king's people were able to adapt to the changes over the past one hundred years. Link and Zelda were prepared to have to adjust to their newfound relationship, as well. The scars of the past were no longer something Link desperately wished to deny, but rather accept and celebrate.
After all, his princess left the deepest scar of all—in his heart