A/N: I haven't written for a very long time. I have become a busy college student. Please know that I wrote this only because I need a break from school. It's not meant to be perfect. With that being said, enjoy!
For the first time in weeks, it was too easy for Link to admit he was relaxed. Zelda was right here under his arm and everything he had worked for had finally paid off. She was here, she was safe. They didn't talk. They didn't need to. They both knew what the other had been through. Maybe in a week or even a year it would make for a nice story, but for now they didn't have to say anything. And everything was perfect.
Link and Zelda had been sitting atop the Goddess Statue for what felt like hours, not that Link was complaining. No words had passed from their lips since the villagers of Skyloft had returned home, giving Link some time to really stop and daydream again. He was content with looking out over the forest before them. He knew it didn't belong to anyone but Farore, but Link felt as if he owned the world after everything he'd been through. He couldn't wipe the smile from his face. There was no reason to. Nothing would let him forget this moment.
After every possible thought had crossed his mind, he eventually noticed fatigue creeping up on him. It made sense; since that night in which Fi had visited him, he hadn't come moderately close to a good night's sleep. He had become so wrapped up in ensuring his friend's safety that he had been unable to, or perhaps plainly forgotten to sleep. It was completely unlike him, but he had done a great deal of things unlike himself in the past month.
Accepting the drowsiness that would soon overtake him, he removed his arm from Zelda's shoulder and crawled back toward the wall of the Goddess Statue. Zelda did the same. She sat beside him and interlocked her fingers with his. He smiled again, wide into the horizon, knowing no one would see it but Zelda. But that was fine. Right now, everything was fine.
It was almost difficult to keep his eyes open as he leaned back against the cold stone behind him. However uncomfortable, he didn't mind it at all and took complete solace in the solidity of the wall. Not only was the Goddess protecting him through this statue, but she herself was right here beside him, holding his hand, assuring the reality of the situation with the contact. He didn't want to think about it right now, but come tomorrow he would be asking so many questions about the Goddess.
And without consciously realizing it, he fell asleep. He couldn't pinpoint what exactly had woken him up, but his eyes snapped open and took no time adjusting to the new scenery before him: the sun had set and the moon had taken its place. In the hours he'd been resting, he had at some point fallen over onto Zelda's shoulder. This wasn't the first time something like this had happened; he knew that she didn't mind but was still embarrassed.
"Oh, I'm so sorry," he said, his voice hoarse from the lack of use. He cleared his throat before sitting up, praying he hadn't accidentally drooled on her. He had to check only because that's actually happened to him. Once, but still, he didn't want it to happen again.
She laughed. That was it, just a short laugh, acknowledging his apology and again reminding Link that she was here and she was safe. It was the first time he'd heard it since the day she went missing. All of a sudden, he was even more flustered than before. It was so strange, though, because he wasn't really embarrassed, but he still felt his face get warm.
He apologized again, unsure if it was for making her laugh or for accidentally blushing, but either way the apology was out there.
"You don't have anything to be sorry for," she said, her voice only a whisper. Link heard it clearly, mostly because he hadn't completely separated himself from her since waking up. Their fingers were still held together in Zelda's lap.
"I beg to differ," he muttered, matching her volume, finally breaking eye contact. He checked the horizon again as if something new had appeared out there for him to look at. There was nothing, he looked on regardless.
She ignored his last statement. He knew that anything she could say would sway him, but she didn't respond. He narrowed his eyes at a tree that was slightly taller than the rest near the edge of the horizon. It was so quiet. He could hear the waterfall from somewhere behind them. He could swear he heard his own heartbeat for a second, but all his senses felt suddenly cut off and zeroed in on his right cheek, where Zelda had decided to kiss him while he was looking away.
If his face hadn't been cherry red before, it almost certainly was now. He found himself in shock, unsure what to do even when she leaned away and turned to look out at the horizon as well. She may have said something to him, but he wasn't listening to anything anymore.
She let go of his hand, and the sudden coldness on his palm successfully grabbed his attention.
"Hm?" he finally looked back at her. She had been looking at him again.
"Daydreaming again?" She asked. They both knew that wasn't the case.
Link shook his head. "No." He tried to think fast and make a joke, but he was still drawing blanks. "What did you do that for?"
"I need you to answer a question," she said, changing the subject. She narrowed her eyes and and tilted her head forward.
After blinking a few times to try to buckle down like she had, he told her that she could ask anything.
She hesitated. "Um, how... how long was I asleep, anyway?"
Link suppressed a scowl. He had been trying not to think about that. It was only this morning he had been able to wake her up, but he would rather put as much distance as possible between this moment and that. They were exact opposites: one was pure peace and the other was absolute despair.
"I did my best," he muttered, looking at his shoes. "It was a while."
"Really? Even for you? I know it was years and years for me, but..."
Of course it was a long time, he wanted to say. He wanted to tell her that even a minute away from her felt like an hour, but of course that sounded so stupid. He knew that Zelda would laugh for sure, but maybe that was a good thing. He did love her laugh, after all.
Instead of either of the former thoughts, unfiltered excuses poured from him and he couldn't find it in him to stop. "I did everything as fast as I could, I swear, but I was hurt, and I couldn't waste my energy-"
"I don't care, I won't be mad," she promised.
Link took as much time as he could in finding the right words. It had been too long, that was for certain.
"Just under two weeks," he admitted after far too long of a pause. "It was twelve days."
For some reason, he expected her to be upset that he hadn't come to her aid faster. But that wasn't the reaction he got.
"Huh." They both looked away from each other. Link was now focused on the moon, narrowing his eyes as if concentrating hard enough would sway the moon into telling him what to do. It didn't, so he opted to apologize.
"No, no," Zelda persuaded, "don't apologize. This is my fault. Besides, I was going to say, I think I beat your record for sleeping the longest."
It wasn't even that funny, but Link laughed a little too hard. It was okay to be making jokes again.
Tears sprung into his eyes, and he wasn't sure if it was because he was laughing so much or if he was going to actually cry, finally letting his battles catch up to him.
"This month was hell," Link said finally, wiping his thumbs over his eyes to rid himself of the tears. New ones replaced them, so he gave up.
"I'm lucky, then," Zelda replied. "I slept through most of it."
Link smiled. "I wish I could say the same," he said, but he didn't really mean it. His voice cracked as he spoke; he looked completely away from Zelda, knowing that she had definitely seen him crying but hoped she would ignore it.
She didn't mention it, but she put her arm over his shoulder. It was a small comfort but it helped. He gritted his teeth, unsure why he was still fighting the losing battle not to cry.
Eventually, the tears slowed down and his breathing again evened out. "I can't believe this happened," Link moaned, pressing his forehead into his knees. He was still in his knight's uniform, save the gloves, which had been left in the temple below. He silently decided that after he took off the chain mail, he would never put it back on again. He never wanted to do this again.
"It's over," Zelda said.
It was rare for her to be at loss for words. It almost made Link feel guilty. He apologized for that.
"Stop saying you're sorry, Link," she said, resting her head on his shoulder this time. "If anything, I should be the one saying sorry..." her voice trailed off. There was silence.
When Link's back was starting to feel sore from leaning forward so awkwardly, he fell back against the stone once more.
After his face had long since dried and clouds overtook the moon, Link said into the darkness, "We should find somewhere better to sleep."
"I don't know about you, but I'm pretty comfortable here," Zelda said, still leaning against him.
He half-shrugged in agreement. From the pouch he had been gifted at the start of his journey, Link withdrew Zelda's sailcloth. It had become torn at the edges and had lost is bright whiteness, but it still did its job. He unfolded it and draped it over them like a blanket. When he outstretched his legs, it didn't cover his feet, but that was okay. He laughed again. After all that time wasted worrying, Link decided that he would not miss an opportunity to laugh tonight.
He managed to fall asleep again, this time with his head tilted back against the stone. It was quite humid when he woke up and at some point in the night he had kicked off his shoes and cap. Somehow, one of his shoes had fallen over the edge of the tall statue. He couldn't remember actually taking the boots off but he didn't really care how it had gotten down there.
Zelda woke up not long after him, which was good; his arm long since fell asleep from her laying on it all night.
"Good morning, sleepyhead," she said.
Immediately taking defense, he replied, "you even said that you broke all my records! You're the sleepyhead."
They both took a minute to laugh at how petty of a comeback that was, and for just that minute, in the midst of the early-morning banter, it felt like nothing had even happened and that everything had been, and always will be, just fine.