Not a full day had passed since the fall of Calamity Ganon. From the moment Link struck the deathblow, the bog of Malice had begun to recede from Hyrule castle. In the pre-dawn light, Link could not even see it, looking down from the North Tower. The spectre of the blood moon had lifted, and finally Link could hunt down Ganon's dark beasts for good, ending the torment that had afflicted all Hyruleans this past century. With the people safe, Hyrule would be free to grow into its promise.
Link stood guard outside Zelda's bedroom, where she slept—in her own bed—after her endless struggle. He had slain all monsters lingering in the castle, as far as he new, but only a fool would take needless risks in this unfamiliar hostile territory.
Zelda screamed.
Link barged in, sword drawn. His eyes went first to Zelda, lying in her bed, then a quick sweep of the room for threats. He looked harder; Zelda's eyes were shut tight. Sweat beaded her brow, and she writhed beneath her aged comforter.
Sheathing his sword, he knelt and squeezed her shoulder.
"Zelda," he said.
She groaned and tensed under his hand. He tightened his grip and gave her a gentle shake.
Zelda opened her eyes. Frantic eyes, lined with fatigued, ringed with dark circles. The overflowing wonder he had seen there had been consumed by shadow.
"It's okay," he told her. "It's over."
But even as he spoke, he saw that her battle raged on all the same, and only the enemy had changed.
She crossed the room step by wavering step and sipped from Link's canteen. "I am fine," she said. "Just a dream." But her voice was as a wisp of fog, a nothing that obscured the world for a time then vanished into the aether. "I would rest a while longer."
Link nodded and resumed his post without.
Zelda stood once more upon Hyrule Field. The cold dew refreshed her bare feet, and the blades of grass tickled her soles and sprouted up between her toes. She turned her foot, feeling it dig into the soft ground, letting the fresh dirt fall atop. The morning sunrise gave no warmth but to her heart as it illuminated the country she had fought for these hundred years. Mountains decorated the horizon, the sky turned from dark to purple to blue, the dawn chasing away the night. The birds began to sing the same songs she had so loved as a child, a sweet cacophony of nonsense twitters and chirps and warbles. A light breeze played through her hair. The thin, blonde strands drifted onto her cheek, and the wind brushed across the nape of her neck.
"I don't want it to be dark ever again," she said.
It was better in the sunlight. She was almost able to forget her timeless prison, the ineffable scars Calamity Ganon had wrought upon her spirit. In the dawn she could pretend she still believed in peace and renewal and a bright future for Hyrule.
"What happens now?" Link asked. Her sworn knight loomed behind her, single-minded to a fault. "Impa would want to hear you are safe."
"I..." she swallowed. "Not yet. I am not ready to face Hyrule again." Generations had passed since she entered into her combat at the heart of Hyrule Castle. Few now lived who remembered the girl she had been. To the rest of the world she was but the princess of legend who held the Calamity at bay, as though she were some fabled goddess who kept the sun in its steady arc.
"Then they will come to you," Link said. "Surely they have seen the shadow has lifted from Hyrule Castle. Once one person summons the courage to investigate, they will all come to pay homage to their princess."
"Their idea of a princess," Zelda said. "They don't know me, and how could they? But you are right. They will come, and I have some duty to meet them, it seems." The same duty that compelled her to conform to that unnatural mold her father had crafted for her. The same duty that brought her face to face with the unspeakable evil from beyond the mortal realm.
"That will come another day," Zelda said. "I have not used my body in far too long. Let's see how far my legs carry me."
And with that she was sprinting across Hyrule Field, fresh air filling her lungs as she once again felt the pulsing of her blood and the burning of fierce exertion.
They would not have what they had before. Link had come to suspect this even as his memories reformed. How could people experience so much and still be the same? Still, there was the pretense. They played together like children, chasing each other through tall grass, crawling after whatever new strange bug they found. They both new it wasn't real.
Zelda was never truly at ease. All too often, Link would see her freeze and retreat inside herself, no doubt reliving the horrors that had been her daily existence. She hid it well, and Link pretended not to notice. Could a person with such deep scars learn to be happy again? Link hoped so, by whatever means it came. If ever anyone deserved it, it was she.
They shared a dinner of roast mushrooms, supplemented with spiced apples. Zelda ate with a peculiar concentration, as though fully exploring the flavor of each bite. He had already finished. He had learned to eat quickly, because he was never certain there would be enough time for a longer meal. Rather than staring at Zelda while she finished, he stood up and studied the surrounding fields through his small telescope.
"There's a caravan from Kakariko," he said. "Probably Impa. They'll be here tomorrow evening. Maybe the morning after if they move slow."
"It is my duty to meet with them, after all," Zelda murmured. "We had better clean out the throne room and give them a proper reception, let them see the monarchy reborn."
Her face had resumed that mask she wore for matters of state, that inhuman covering that concealed her inner light. That same light which had already suffered so much for the sake of the people of Hyrule.
"Why?" Link said.
"The people need a wise ruler. The Royal Family, endowed with the light..." Link let her go on without really listening. The words were rote, and meaningless. The words were a reflex to duty, not her heart truth. "... the duty of the princess to fulfill that destiny," she concluded.
"They've got on all right on their own for a century," Link said. "They'll last a little longer, I think."
Zelda smiled. It was good to see her smile again, dampened though it may be.
"If not a princess, then what?" she asked.
"Whatever you want."
"I have spent so many years fulfilling my obligations, I scarce know what that is anymore. Silly, isn't it?"
"Start small, then," Link said. "You want to be well clear of this place before Impa gets here."
A fragment of a chuckle. "Yes, I suppose I do."
Author's Note: I don't know whether to continue playing with this story, or leave as is, or go back and change everything entirely. My original intent was for Zelda to go found a university, but I'm not sure I'm ambitious enough to write that. Anyway, I wanted to explore issues with PTSD Zelda may have, and I'm not sure I'm happy with my treatment, so perhaps I'll continue later to play with this.