After saving Hyrule from Ganondorf, Link was sent back in time to regain his lost seven years. When he returned to the Kokiri forest, however, he parted ways with Navi, the little fairy that had kept him company for so long. When she left, Link realized he could never assimilate into his former life. No one knew what he had done in the Future That Was, and he returned home as not The Boy Without A Fairy, he was now the boy who'd had one and lost her. Once again shunned by his fellow Kokiri, Link could not bear the taunts of Mido and his followers, and so left on Epona to search for his beloved companion, Navi.
In Terminia, barely a year after saving Hyrule, he was forced to assume the hero's mantle once more, reliving the same three days over and over again to save Terminia from Skull Kid. He made friends with the little fairy Tatl, among many others. It pained him greatly to say goodbye.
The stresses of saving the world—twice, no less— had exacted a heavy toll from the boy. Being a child trapped in an adult's body had forced his young mind to accelerate much faster than a ten-year-old boy's should. In addition, the excruciating interspecies transformations Link was forced to endure in Termina gave him a deeper knowledge of pain than any person should know. In his adolescent body, he had the voice and demeanor of a world-weary adult.
Having seen and lived through more than anyone his age, and indeed, more than many people in Hyrule, Link was worn in mind and body. He had no home after leaving the forest, and as such he meandered through Hyrule, sinking deeper into the depression that hung over him like a black cloud. He no longer knew what to do with himself.
The Hero of Time, who had stood firm against countless monsters, who defeated in battle the King of Thieves, Ganondorf, and slayed the ultimate evil, Majora, now had to face his greatest opponent; himself.
Link gazed out over the cliffs. The ground lay far below him, dotted with sharp rocks. He wondered if he would survive the drop. Probably not. It was so tempting to jump, to just fling himself over the edge. How easy it would be to cease to exist...
"Please... Be safe, Link."
The voice echoed out from the recesses of his memory. Though it had been more than a year since he'd last heard it, he still remembered Zelda's voice with crystal clarity.
His eyes clouded over with sadness. Link had never returned to the castle, never returned to Zelda. He wasn't sure what Zelda would remember, what he wanted her to remember. Her face came clearly to him, her bright blue eyes twinkling with life. Link missed her almost more than he missed Navi.
Epona whickered at her master. The perpetual gloom that hung over him was unnatural to her. She clopped over and nudged his shoulder. He patted her absentmindedly, deep in the tangle of thoughts in his mind.
Link pulled out the ocarina Zelda had given to him, examining its sleek blue surface. He raised it to his lips, and played.
The music relayed everything that had happened to him, good and bad, since Navi became his fairy. He played every song he had learned on his journeys, each one blending smoothly into the next. Each note brought to the surface all his memories. The Song of Healing brought back to him Darmani and Mikau, and Epona raised her head when he played her song. With the music, he recalled the life of a hero, his joys, his sorrows, his pain, his love and loss. He played the mingled confusion and despair that raced around his soul, forming ever-tightening bands.
Hour after hour passed, and still Link played his ocarina. His eyes were closed, and a tear ran down his left cheek.
Finally, the music merged into an almost unbearably precious tune that Link knew by heart. Sweetly, soulfully, painfully, the hero declared his love for the princess in the final notes of her lullaby.
Link lowered the ocarina. He bowed his head. Soft applause reached his ears, and he looked up suddenly.
The princess stood in front of him, her eyes filled with an unfathomable depth of emotion that only Link would ever understand.
"I made a promise," she said softly.
Zelda convinced him to come with her back to the castle. She was greatly saddened by the state Link had allowed himself to get into. His green tunic was ripped and dirty, and his golden hair was unkempt and shaggy. No longer caring about life, Link had neglected his own health. She insisted he eat a proper meal, and then sent him off to the palace baths. He returned dressed in a new tunic, with his hair the proper shade of spun gold that she remembered.
"Link?" she said hesitantly. He turned his blue eyes to hers. Though her looked directly at her, his gaze was vacant and unseeing. She took his hand in hers. It was calloused and rough against her soft skin.
"Please, Link, focus." Her eyes bore into his.
The soft, pleading tone in her voice registered somewhere in him. He made an effort to see instead of just look.
She spoke to him quietly, sensing the anguish that ran deep.
"Link. You can't do this to yourself. You're stronger than this."
"You don't know. You don't know my pain." His voice was hollow.
"I was Ganondorf's prisoner, Link. Don't you think that affected me too?"
He was silent.
"It's been a long journey for you, longer than most. But you're here now. The danger has passed. I will always be here for you, but you have to move on."
He nodded once. It was a tiny movement, just a shadow of a shadow. But it gave her hope.
With her father's consent, Zelda gave Link a bedroom on the second floor of the castle. It was a spacious room, lavishly furnished. One door led to an enormous closet, currently empty, and another opened out to a large balcony, with a perfect view of the forest. Link dumped his adventure pouch on the ornate desk, taking in the room. To an average Hylian, this room was the height of luxury. To Link, who had spent much of his recent years sleeping in the mud, this was veritable paradise.
He hated it.
After being a woodsman for so long, this was alien to him. He felt uncomfortable, out of his element. He had to force himself to sleep in the massive bed lined with silk covers, kicking off his dirt-encrusted boots. Link closed his eyes, and slept.
Ganondorf's face leered out of the gloom at him, dark and malevolent. The evil aura he gave off darkened the air, almost choking Link. His laugh echoed from everywhere and nowhere, drumming a mantra of death into Link's head. His snarling features melted and reformed into Majora's Wrath, and Link recalled its mottled, twisted body contorting horribly…
Link came to, paralyzed with terror. The nightmares of his past still plagued him, and they seemed stronger than ever in the stuffy confines of the room. His hands were clenched into tight fists, and he felt his own hot blood drip from his palms where his fingernails pierced his skin. He lit a match, touching the tiny flame to a lamp. It quickly sputtered to life, and he watched the fire flicker, drawing strength from its warmth. But he was reminded of the spurts of flame from the lava at Death Mountain, and the dark dragon, Volvagia…
It was too hot, too claustrophobic in the room. Link pushed open the doors to the balcony and leaned against the railing, trying to clear his head as he breathed the cool night air. He would not go inside again tonight.
Zelda found him sleeping in the castle gardens the next morning, under a large oak tree. She didn't bother asking him how he'd managed to bypass the guards. His journeys had probably given him any number of ways to do the job. When he awoke, she took him to breakfast, and made him eat. He did so without enthusiasm, chewing slowly. She tried to interest him in many activities, but it was like trying to interact with a statue. He responded only minimally, and often not at all. When she asked him a question, he seemed not to hear.
She lost her patience. "Enough is enough, Link. You cannot draw into yourself. What would Saria think?"
He flinched at the sound of her name. He knew exactly what Saria would think. She'd be appalled.
"Or Nabooru, or Darunia, or any of them? What about Navi? What would she say?"
He stood up suddenly, so suddenly Zelda flinched. Walking to the desk, he picked up a pencil and a piece of paper. He drew a straight line across the paper, and another, and another. For a second Zelda thought he'd lost it completely, until she realized he was sketching the beginning to a piece of music. He drew in three notes, and stopped. Link pressed the ocarina into her hands.
"Play it for me."
Confused, she played what he'd written. He stopped her.
"No. Like you mean it."
She tried again, and this time the ocarina filled the room with its sweet sound. He nodded, once. Taking the paper again, he drew the rest of the song.
She didn't hesitate this time. Zelda played the ocarina the best she'd ever played, sensing the pivotal moment. The song was sad and soulful, but she could feel it washing away all her worries, all her concerns. When she lowered the ocarina, she felt an overwhelming sense of peace.
Link closed his eyes as she played, absorbing the music. The song, meant to ease the souls of the dead, did a long way towards helping the souls of the living. He felt the tangled skeins of thought unravel, clearing his head for the first time in months. Something broken inside of him healed. He was not recovered, but the passion to live burned again.
Link started the arduous process of recovering from the mental scars his quests had given him. He stayed close to Zelda, and she constantly spoke to him, as a friend, something he desperately wanted and, above all else, needed. Most people were curious about the blond boy in green clothes who stayed so near to the princess, and it wasn't long before Link's heroism became common knowledge, though the details remained blurred to everyone but Zelda. However, in the early stages of his recovery, Link spoke only a word here or there, earning him the nickname, "The Silent Hero."
Link had been ten when Ganondorf first rose to power. The events in Terminia had occurred in his eleventh year. He was twelve now, and struggled to fit in with the other adolescents. But Link had seen too much of life to ever truly belong. In truth, he thought of the other boys as childish and naïve. Zelda was his closest friend in those times. They whiled away the days together, exploring the castle and surrounding town. Link fenced with the other boys, but it quickly became clear that he far surpassed their skill. He was put into training with the young knights, five years older and several feet taller. His archery and horsemanship were impeccable as well, and he became an informal teacher at the castle.
Years passed in this manner, and Link grew. No longer a round-faced child, he entered his fifteenth year as a muscular young man. Twelve months later, he came of age1, and the whole kingdom flocked to the grand celebration. Many people sought him out, but he spent most of his time with his friends the sages. It delighted him greatly when Tatl came on the third day of the celebrations, and the little fairy spent most of her time in Link's hat, curled up in his hair, not knowing that her predecessor Navi had once preferred the exact same spot. When the ceremonies ended a week later, she stayed. Not a word of explanation was given, but from then on, she was always at his side.
Something else had happened in the time since Zelda had played the Song of Healing for Link. His feelings for her had deepened, encompassing far more than they had originally. It was obvious that she felt the same. No one could doubt their love for each other, and Tatl was even a little jealous. All the denizens of Hyrule fully expected that Link would propose, especially now that they were of age. But he didn't. Months passed, and yet no announcement was ever made. Everyone wondered what it could mean. Was the princess snubbing the hero? Or was it the other way around?
The former was not true. Zelda wanted very much to be married to her hero. As the days wore on, she also wondered why he never proposed. Was Link afraid of making a commitment?
In fairness to poor Link, none of the speculations were true. Link was not snubbing the princess, nor did the commitment bother him. But he never told anyone his reasons for not marrying Zelda, and rumors flew like so many Keese.
The king was worried. He was growing old, and the time was for choosing a successor was fast approaching. He could think of no one more suitable for the kingship, and Zelda refused to consider anyone but Link. He resolved to speak with Link, and perhaps uncover his motives.
Link was sitting by the window on the top room in the highest tower when the king found him. It was one of those rare times when Zelda was not by his side. She was, in fact, practicing her embroidery elsewhere in the castle. Bored with watching, Link had left, ascending the tower to play his ocarina. The sweet sound of it gave him peace. Tatl slept in his hat, tangling his hair. The king entered, listening as Link played Saria's song.
He called Link's name, and Link almost dropped the ocarina in surprise. He scrambled to his feet and bowed.
"Your Majesty! I didn't see you."
"I can be unobtrusive if I so wish, you know," the king said genially. "However, I wished to speak with you."
"Of course. What is it?"
The king deliberated over his next words.
"I think you know why I am here."
Link stopped and stared at the king. A tiny frown creased his forehead, and he turned away, looking out the window.
"So," he said softly.
The king said nothing, merely waited.
"Despite the rumors, my love for Zelda is true. I have known this since I was thirteen, and nothing has or will change my mind." He turned his head slightly, speaking almost over his shoulder. "I have never been afraid of committing myself to her."
"Then why—"
"Because I know that if I marry the princess, I will be expected to take the throne as well."
"I could not imagine a man more suitable," the king said quietly.
Link flushed slightly at the praise. "That may be," he said carefully, "but I have seen much of power and evil. Too much. Corruption follows power like a shadow. I have lost myself once. I dread the possibility of doing so again with the fate of the people on my shoulders. A man must be extraordinary to take the kingship, else he will be consumed by power."
"That is why you must take the throne! There is no one else I trust! And," the king lowered his voice, "would you stand by as Zelda married another? Would you watch as she bore his children? Would you let her go and be happy as her heirs gambol about the throne?" His voice was whiplike and accusing, each word cutting deep.
Link had been gripping the windowsill as the king spoke, and his fists clenched tighter with every question.
Crack. The wood splintered under his hands.
"No," he whispered. "I can't."
"I know you can't."
Link turned his head, looking back out the window. The sun was beginning to set outside.
"Those were low blows, my king."
"I had to do it. For the people. And for Zelda." He gripped Link's shoulder. "I have to look out for them, and I will. Whatever it takes."
"I know that feeling," Link murmured.
Link and Zelda sat together in the courtyard, watching the sun rise. It was the first day of spring, and Zelda had insisted on being awake for it.
"It just feels special, somehow," she'd said.
Now, however, she barely watched the sun, instead focusing on Link's face. The slowly brightening rays caught him just right; he seemed ethereal and mysterious. She found herself examining the curve of his lip, the hollow of his cheek. He sensed her gaze on him and looked at her, meeting her eyes. She blushed slightly but held his gaze.
"You're beautiful in the sunrise," he said unexpectedly.
"I was thinking the same thing."
"About who?"
"You."
His lips quirked in a smile. "I'm beautiful?"
She considered it. "Yes. Stunningly so."
He laughed softly. "I love you."
She stiffened. "You've never said that before."
"You knew."
"It's not the same."
"Then I'll say it again, pure and simple. I love you."
She felt a rush of joy at hearing him say it, but only for a moment.
"You shouldn't have," she said, looking away.
"What? Why?"
"Because," her voice was strained, "it just complicates things."
"I don't—"
"How can you love me, Link? You have never shown any inclination to marry me, nor—"
"Peace," he interrupted, placing a gentle finger on her lips. "I'm sorry, I should have explained myself."
She glared at him, waiting.
"I do love you, Zelda. More than you know. But I was afraid. Afraid because I knew that marrying you meant I would take the throne as well, and I have seen too much of corruption and power to ever truly desire the kingship as others do. You have always known you would become Queen, but it was only till recently that I ever contemplated becoming King. I was being selfish, I know."
He touched her face gently. "I suppose I still am being selfish. I'm not ever going to let anyone take you from me, Zelda. And I'll kill anyone that tries."
She noticed the ring in his left hand, and gasped.
"Princess Zelda, will you marry me?"
She threw her arms around him, laughing. "Yes! Yes, I will!"
And as their lips met, sealing the pact, the sun broke over the trees, washing the courtyard with its soft yellow light.