prompt: comfort
notes: this takes place a good while after Skyward Sword.
disclaimer: I don't own Zelda.
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"Fishes," Robin said in wonder, reaching out his chubby toddler hand. Zelda laughed softly, lifting him up so he could touch the cool surface of the big glass bowl Link had brought home, filled with pebbles and underwater plants from Lake Floria—a new home for the colorful fish he'd caught for their son to admire. Robin was tracing a finger along the outside of the bowl, following one of the fish's movement. Morning sunlight slanted in through the window, making the water sparkle.
"You like them?" Zelda asked as she set Robin down.
"They're pretty," he replied, a big smile spreading across his face and lighting up his eyes—Link's eyes, she thought. He was three now and always curious; Zelda could already see his father's fierce spirit in him, though she prayed every day that he would never have to carry a sword the way Link had.
She looked across the room to where her husband stood before the stove with his back to her, humming distractedly while he fried the eggs for breakfast. Link held the spoon in his left hand; his right dangled at his side limply, courtesy of the electric shocks his fight with Demise had given him.
As if sensing Zelda's gaze, he turned his head and gave her a smile. She was about to thank him for the fish when a sharp knock sounded on the wooden door of their home, making both of them jump.
"Are we expecting company?" Link asked, keeping his voice low.
Zelda shook her head, frowning, and nudged Robin so he would go stand behind his father. It was probably nothing, but her hand reached for one of the kitchen knives anyway, and Link was easing his sword out of its scabbard. Another knock. They were all the protection the Triforce had, after all, and the world was not a safe place for someone who housed the power of a Goddess.
She walked to the door with the knife angled behind her so it would be hidden from view. In one quick motion, Zelda turned the knob and flung the door open, revealing—
"Groose?" she said in surprise.
His broad shoulders filled the doorway, and he did not return the smile Zelda gave him. Instead his Knight-Commander uniform, he was wearing a simple blue tunic, and he twisted his cap between his hands nervously. It was hard to reconcile the man who stood before her with the foolish boy he'd once been.
"Uncle Groose!" Robin shrieked in delight, running to him and hugging him around the waist. Groose responded with a halfhearted ruffle of his blond hair.
Zelda set down her knife.
"What's wrong?" Link asked when Groose didn't say anything.
Groose took a breath and looked from Zelda to Robin to Link, then back to Zelda. He cleared his throat. "I, uh…I don't know how to say this. I'm sorry."
Zelda was staring at his tunic—blue cotton. Blue like the sky, blue like Link's eyes, and the eyes of their son. No one wore that color unless someone was dead. It meant goodbye as they sent their departed back into the Goddess's sky. A year ago when old man Rusta passed, Groose had sent one of his junior knights to tell them the funeral date, but he was here himself this time with that helpless, stricken look on his face. Zelda felt despair sink down her throat to settle in her stomach.
She wasn't listening to whatever Groose was saying. She took a step back, retreating inside the house, as if the doorway separated her from the truth, as if she could step into a world where her father was still alive.
"Instructor Owlan said it was his heart," Groose said, his voice coming to Zelda dimly, as if she were submerged in Robin's fishbowl. "I wanted to come and get the two of you—I wanted to so bad—but I couldn't fly during the night. I'm so sorry. He was gone before morning."
She took another step back and collided with Link, who caught her by the back of the shoulders, his grip solid and steady. "But," Zelda choked out senselessly. "But—"
Link was squeezing her shoulders murmuring reassurances into her ear, but she barely heard him. She did hear Groose when he said, "He talked about you until the end, Zelda. And—your mother too. He was asleep when it finally happened. He was smiling."
That broke the dam, and tears spilled down her cheeks, sloppy and shaking. A horrible sobbing sound tore out of Zelda's throat, and she turned to Link, hiding her face in his shirt. "Mama?" came Robin's little voice, scared and confused. She felt him tug on her skirt.
"Groose," Link said, his voice cracking, "Could you…"
"You got it," Groose said, and Zelda opened her eyes briefly to watch him lead Robin away by the hand, talking to him softly. The bright morning sunlight stung now, painfully bright.
She let her eyelids fall shut against the light as Link's hand crept up to thread through her hair.
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They stood before the fresh grave long after the rest of the crowd trickled away. Practically all of Skyloft had come, wearing sky blue and deep frowns; Headmaster Gaepora had been well loved.
The weather was perfectly clear, with hardly a cloud in sight. Zelda tilted her head back and watched the Loftwings circle far above their heads, feeling the empty pit inside her and wondering if it would ever go away. Link's arm, warm around her shoulders, helped a little. And Robin, asleep in her arms, had been an angel through all of this.
"He taught me everything," she said quietly. "I don't remember much of my mother, just…long, curly hair…" she closed her eyes as if she could run her hands through it and watch it turn golden in the sun. But her mother was decades gone, so Zelda touched her son's shiny locks instead. "But Father gave me all the books I needed to satisfy my curiosity, and if those didn't do enough, he would sit me down and answer all of my questions. He endless patience. For me, and for everyone."
"He was a good man," Link agreed. "He took me in after my parents died without a second thought. He always gave me advice during my quest."
Zelda was silent for a moment before she spoke the words that were the most painful—the most horrible. "I didn't get to say goodbye. All that time he spent on me, and I was too busy to check up on him. I should have been there. I should have…" her throat closed up, and the words hung in the air heavily.
"It wasn't your fault, Zelda," Link murmured. "It wasn't. He would have understood that."
She knew that, somewhere in her heart of hearts. She knew it because her father had forgiven her for all the stupid and careless things she'd done as a child, because he had been there for her after the nightmarish struggle with Demise that changed her and Link forever, because his entire life had been for Skyloft and not for himself. Zelda looked at the grave, covered with the colorful feathers of all the mourners' Loftwings, and held Robin tighter. Her father would never see him grow up.
Link let out a breath. "You're not going to believe me, not yet, but you can come back from this. You are the strongest person I know. I've seen you walk through hell and come out smiling. And I promise you get to come back from this." He leaned over to kiss her forehead.
"Thank you for being here," Zelda murmured. Link just nodded in reply.
They stood before the grave until the wind picked up the feathers and carried them away, scattering them into the sky.
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