A/N: A new season, a new story. Unlike Ephemeral, Swan Song takes place after the ending of Twilight Princess and follows the lives of both Link and Zelda as well as Hyrule's aftermath of the Twilight War. I'm attempting to take a different approach on my writing style, incorporating a more medieval tone and dialect as well as third person narrative. This is a darker tale of what it means to live in an era of peace for our princess and hero, a powerful king planning on taking Zelda for his bride, and a war-scarred Link that needs saving form himself.

Warning: This story contains mature themes, some sensuality, and violence. I'm keeping the rating T but consider it borderline on M.

Enjoy!

Swan Song

Prologue

"Tell me, would you have regretted ignoring your fate more so than accepting it?"

The sun was setting below the horizon line of Lake Hylia, casting flecks of golden shadows across the shimmering waters. Strokes of orange painted the sky like a saturated canvas and the trees whistled with the cool chill of evening wind. Somewhere beyond the blinding rays of sunlight lay the Gerudo Desert, named after a race that had been long extinct, replaced with Moblins and monsters that had claimed the desert as their own. Beyond the endless waste of sand was Arbiter's Grounds. The mirror of Twilight. And even further, through an unpassable veil— its princess.

The hero of both light and darkness pursed his lips in thought, the warm colored hues illuminated his sandy-blonde hair with an unnatural glow. Scars that lined his cheek were accented by deep shadows that were cast by the light, physical evidence as to why his smile never touched his eyes, the hollowness of his laughter, the lifelessness in his voice.

"Nobody has ever asked me such a question before."

He turned to her then. The blue in his eyes was tainted with orange light, muddying the pureness of its color.

"Well Link, Hero of Hyrule, I'm asking you now."

He blinked once then resumed his gaze over the landscape before him. It had been two years. Two years since he buried the blade of the Master Sword up to its hilt into Ganondorf's skull. Two years since the rebuilding of Hyrule. Two years since they said goodbye to Midna.

And it had been an entire year in which he took up his role as the captain of the Hylian vanguard— as per Princess Zelda's request.

Leaving Ordon had been simple, if anything, gratifying. The villagers that he had once considered family, the people that had raised the poor orphan boy he had been— were now nothing more than strangers. When he looked at them, all he saw were the questions that dared not escape pursed lips, suspicious eyes that watched him with ill-deserved awe, concerned stares that held pity he did not want. Village life no longer appeased the ravenous beast that had grown inside him, craving the thrill of adventure. Rusl had understood, and he was the only person he had confided in before packing away the few belongings he owned and setting off into the night. He agreed to tell the rest of the villagers what he could not— Link had left upon the Princess' orders and would not be returning. However, he had made a promise to himself that after every lunar cycle, when his castle duties would permit it, he would check in on them. To deliver fresh produce from the market, rare materials sold by merchants only within the castle walls, and to make sure that the nightmares that plagued his dreams had not poisoned the children as well.

It was better this way.

They would be well off without him there, causing unwarranted but understandable tension.

When he arrived at the castle, he had been so positive— so certain that this was the antidote to his madness, the hole that the Twilight War had left within his chest, aching and undeniable. But when he signed Princess Zelda's agreement, the simple parchment of paper that stated he belonged to the government of Hyrule as its leading commander of the Hylian royal army, he felt as though the hole had been ripped anew, transforming him into a ravaged man he no longer recognized. Something that truly terrified him more than even Ganondorf's evil rein had begun to claw at the enlarged void and he feared the day that it would break free.

He turned to her again, overwhelmed by her beauty and the presence that she possessed. So strong, so confident, she masked her pain so very well. But he saw through the guise that she had perfected like polished armor. He saw through it because he felt the turmoil that she suppressed reflected inside of him, in his chest, his mind, his heart.

The nightmares. They were suffocating. He saw them no matter if he were awake or asleep. They played tricks on his mind, confusing reality with grotesque visions of abhorrent creatures, darkness, and blood. Voices told him what he knew but denied, fears that he kept locked away in the dusty confines of his mind. He pushed them away but they always managed to rear their ugly heads when he least expected it.

A hero they called him.

The Legendary Hero of Twilight.

His name had long been lost. A name that had belonged to the innocent village boy in Ordon. The one who farmed pumpkins and herded goats. The one who was capable of maintaining friendships. Of laughing and smiling.

Now he was 'captain', 'my lord', or the dreaded 'hero'.

"Link."

Yes. She truly was beautiful, even to her very core.

"I believe that there is more to life than responsibility, than fate. I just wish that you would believe it too."

She reached out a delicate hand, caressing the scars on his temple and his cheeks. Her touch left behind a warmth that made it feel as though the pain of their existence had never been created in the first place. He closed his eyes, drinking in her comfort as if it were the only thing that was holding him together.

"You can stop being a hero now. The war is over," she spoke softly, hushed whispers only meant for his ears.

He wanted to believe her. He truly did with every fiber of his broken being.

"It's never over, princess. You know that as well as I."

He opened his eyes, awaiting her response but she only stared at him morosely, tears swimming in her eyes because she understood all too well.

"Then pretend that it is."

He felt something inside him stir at her words, something that made the gaping hole shrink a little smaller. Pretend. Like polished armor.

He grabbed her hand in his own, moving it from his cheek to the back of his head and taking a step forward, he closed the distance between them. He rested his forehead against her own, his breathing suddenly labored with anticipation while her body went rigid with surprise. He ran a gloved hand through her long auburn tresses and pulled her close with his other, then before she could back away from his warm embrace, he pressed his lips against hers. Softly at first, then with an increasing gradation of intensity that erased the monsters plaguing their thoughts and the fears that threatened to suffocate them, if only for the time being. She clung to him, hesitantly then with a level of desperation that matched his own as if he were the only thing safe in a dangerous world.

Then it ended as quickly as it started, breathing heavily, Link pulled away, stricken with the realization of what he had just done.

They stood upon a private balcony of Hyrule Castle, and a great wind rose and blew, sending their hair flying into tangled knots and they gazed upon each other with more sadness than a person should be capable of.

That had been the first time he had kissed her.

"Zelda… I apologize," he began hesitantly.

But instead of answering him, she only stepped closer and fixed the distance he had created between them. Touching his brow, her eyes narrowed with concern and remorse.

"Don't."

Then the stillness of the moment was interrupted by the abrupt swinging of double doors leading back into her chambers. A woman dressed in a simple grey apron and skirt looked as though she had seen a poe as she stood in the entranceway, staring at the princess and the commander.

"My Lord, Your Grace, I had no idea that— I didn't—"

"It is quite alright, Lady Ena. We were just bidding each other good evening, weren't we Sir Link?" Zelda smiled politely and had withdrawn her hand, the mask falling back into place. Just as it should be.

Link cleared his throat, folding an arm behind his back and bowing to his midsection. "Your Grace," he shuffled around Ena and exited the chambers, sparing Zelda once last glance before he did so.

"Now then, was there a matter that you would like to discuss? It seems to be awfully late for urgent announcements— oh, don't tell me that Sir Arran preformed sleight of hand again in front of the councilmen, they do particularly dislike his antics," Zelda fretted with exasperation.

Ena blushed, quickly becoming more embarrassed the longer the situation dragged out. "No, Your Grace—"

"Please Ena, we're alone now. There's no such reason for the formalities."

"Er— yes, Zelda. Of course." Cautiously, as if she were expecting someone to appear in the room behind them, she closed the doors and stepped out onto the balcony where Link had been moments prior.

"A letter arrived for you today," she spoke suddenly in a hushed voice. "I was able to snag it before the herald caught wind of it. It bears the Carthalion seal."

It was her last few words that made Zelda's breath catch in her throat, her blood chill like the nighttime air. The sun had set and took its warmth with it. In its place, the crisp bite of the cool wind and the eerie echo of dusk that reminded her of a time that she'd rather forget took up residence. She had grown to loathe the darkness and the demons that it housed within its shadows.

"I… I see," Zelda began, the words caught in her throat.

"I presumed that you wouldn't want anyone else to know about this, please forgive me for worrying you with the secrecy."

Zelda cleared her throat, turning to her maid, "No, Ena, thank you. I appreciate the effort you have gone through for me. I never thank you enough for what you do for me."

She blushed again, "Nonsense. There is nothing I can ever do that will repay my debt to you."

"Do not be foolish. There never was, nor will ever be debt of any kind. Now I command you to get some rest, you look quite exhausted."

The maid chuckled, "Of course. I bid you good night, My Princess."

"Pleasant dreams, Ena. Tell Sir Ivan I say hello."

She nodded with a smile and gently backed through the double doors, closing them behind her and leaving Zelda alone with the harrowing twilight.

She sniffed, wrapping her arms around herself and missing Link's strong arms as she gazed out upon the now shadowed land of Hyrule. How many times had she stared at this same view during her imprisonment? How many times did she wonder if death would be greater than life? In her darkest moments, she had been certain of Link's demise, but it was always the dull hum of the Triforce on the back of her hand that kept her hope alive. She could still feel him, and that was good enough for her.

With a sigh, the princess turned her back on the ill-lit land and into the safety of her chambers. She sat on the edge of her bed, the letter growing heavy in her hands as she stared down at the red wax seal of a dragon— the symbol of Carth. She fingered the corners of the parchment, biting her lip, a thousand thoughts playing through her mind. She knew who the letter was from— the royal seal erased any doubt in her mind, and she dreaded to read his words. After all this time, what could he possibly want?

So conveniently timed after we pulled ourselves out of a catastrophic war, all thanks to Link and none to him, she thought bitterly.

That was a valid point. It was no secret to neighboring lands what Hyrule had gone through. Even though all were too cowardly to aid in the battle against the dark magics, they had sent food and materials post war for the victims that had survived.

All but Carth.

He had some nerve.

With shaking fingers and an unsteady heart, Zelda carefully broke the seal and unraveled the letter. Skimming through his eloquently written words, she had to stop herself from tearing it in half, a swell of anger blossomed in her chest like the prelude to a storm.

Desmond, she thought angrily, how naïve do you presume me to be?

He had to calm down. He needed to focus.

With shaky breaths, he inhaled the cool nighttime air. He had needed to get out of the stifling confines of the castle, it was becoming too much, but the forest was doing little to ease his troubles.

What was wrong with him? Kissing the now-Queen of Hyrule? Had he gone mad?

With a roar of frustration he slammed his fist into a nearby tree, splitting the skin in-between his knuckle to reveal a thin scarlet line. He winced from the impact but he didn't even feel the pain.

It had been two years since the invasion of twilight and he still could not get a hold of himself. The nightmares had become so visibly tangible that sometimes he was almost tricked into thinking that Ganondorf himself had returned. His condescending smirk, the heated and very raw desire exuding from his eyes like that of a feral beast. Sometimes when Link looked into a mirror he saw that same desire reflected back at him, but this time morphed into his own features. His own blue eyes.

What was he becoming?

An animal?

A confined beast within castle walls?

He shoved his good hand into his satchel at that thought, his fingers twitching.

Just a little while. It can't hurt if it's no longer than a couple of hours.

He swallowed thickly, his fingers playing with the wrapped cloth, slowly working on unraveling it. He knew he should have thrown it away after the end of the war. After all, why would he need it? The fighting had ceased. Peace had returned. There was no room for a beast.

Midna's words came back to him, scrambled in pieces.

This thing is the embodiment of the evil magic Zant cast on you. It's much too dangerous…

Careful Link.

Before she left them she had advised its destruction and Link had given her his word that he'd see to it. Then why did he have it wrapped in folded cloth inside his pocket? Why did he refuse to leave his quarters without it on his person?

I need it, he thought to himself.

It was his only means of escape in a life filled with politics and laws. He was trying to play a role that he did not fit, and insanity was the price. He curled the whole of his hand around the small stone and delicately peeled back a corner so that he could feel its dark magic pulsating, calling out to him.

Yes, just a little while.

Nobody would even notice his absence at this hour. There was still plenty of time until dawn. It would be alright.

He had grown to love the dark shadows of night and the secrecy they provided. His only means of escape, pleasant memories of a time where such happiness was difficult to come by, and the feeling as if Midna was once more by his side. A time when he wasn't so lonely.

With one last trembling breath, he touched the smooth edge of the unworldly stone and welcomed the relieving transformation that first began in his fingertips then spread to the tip of his nose like fire igniting coal. He shrunk down to a third of his size and several pounds lighter. The weight of his clothes and armor had vanished and with it the responsibilities he had as a human.

With a shake of his head, he fluffed his fur, relishing the warmth it provided. He could no longer feel the bitter chill of the cool air nor the pounding in his head. His heart rate had settled and he finally felt the burdensome shackles of his tormenting nightmares lift. He was free once again.

As the wolf— he was in control. No one told him what to do or when to do it. He did not require armor for protection. He only needed his claws and his teeth. Simple. Straightforward. Just how it should be.

When he had transformed for the first time back on the bridge of Ordon after crossing the veil of twilight, he had been frightened and overwhelmed with uncertainty. All he had wanted was the return of his human form, to wield a sword, to walk on his two feet again. To speak. But now he reveled in the silence that his wolf-form presented him, his attuned hearing made up for what he could not say. And really, that was all he needed. To hear the songs of the birds, the trickling of water, the rustle of leaves in the wind, the beating hearts of his prey— all maximized to a crisper and clearer volume. His human ears obscured all the little noises that were blurred together in one blanketed white noise of the forest.

How could something so wonderful be so dangerous? Why did it feel so wrong every time he snuck away to run through the plains of Hyrule on four legs instead of two?

Suddenly, his ears perked at the high pitched squeal of a squirrel, or had it been a rabbit? Whatever it was, it made Link lick his lips in anticipation. It had been a while since his last hunt. The castle had made it quite difficult to sneak away as of late, the duties of Commander of the Hylian Royal Army were anything but trivial.

With a renewed surge of elation he hadn't felt in far too long and a howl to boot, he took off into the darkened woods that only a wolf would be able to navigate his way through.

Just for a little while.