Full moon is falling through the sky.
Cranes fly through the clouds.
Wolves howl. I cannot find rest
Because I am powerless
To amend a broken world.
Lu Fu (712-770 CE) - Overnight in the Pavilion by the River
Link rides on strange soil. It should not feel strange. Grass is grass, after all, and none the dearer for being Hylian grass. The air is the same. Has likely blown across one country, and another, and back yet again. Even so, it is not Hylian.
He had left Hyrule but once before, to cross into the realm of Twilight. The air hung stale in a dead sky. Cursed with an evil inherited from generations past, frozen in a sublime moment. The dead are always at peace, when allowed to rest.
Twilight soon, and not a hint of cover. This field is larger even than Hyrule's. Sleeping without guard in the open is risky, even during peaceful times. It will not be peaceful much longer. Others will flee into Fahrlentill.
He had spent the previous night in a barn. He'd offered rupees for shelter, but they had no value in this country. Perhaps in a city he could find a merchant who could make use of them. But labor was good anywhere, his more than most. The bulk of the day's work had been already finished, of course, but the barn did need a final cleaning out.
There is a joy to simple chores. When you are done, you are done. A part of the world is in order.
He dined with the farmer and his family. A small meal of barley soup and bread.
"What news from Hyrule?" the farmer asked. He was a tall man, lanky and quiet. He hunched over his bowl, his spoon almost a toy in his large hand. His wife and daughter looked at Link furtively, as if they already knew.
"Have you not heard?" Link said.
The farmer nodded. "Rumors only," his wife said. "We had hoped..."
"This is not a safe place for a farm, in these times," Link said. "Can you afford guards?"
The farmer slammed his spoon down on the table. Link almost jumped. "What farmers have you known that have guards?" With a disgusted sigh, the man returned to his soup.
"You have a sword," the daughter said. A child, eyes yet undimmed by life.
Link shook his head. "This blade was not forged to be wielded against men."
And that was the problem, wasn't it? What could the hero of the Hylians do when those who took up arms against them were themselves Hylian?
And so he rides on, deeper into this new country. He had done his duty, driving the Blade of Evil's Bane deep into Ganon's exposed wound. The Princess's duty continued, a battle that could never end.
She had saved him, in the end, interceding with arrows of divine light. It was his shame that in her moment of crisis, he had no help to return. The court has no place for a dull-mouthed hero, and he will not turn his sword against a citizen of Hyrule. What spell could turn a civil war, what power assuaged a mob's fury?
Dusk turns to night. Only the stars remain to light his way. He looks around, though he knows if there were a good place to rest, he would have seen it already.
"Ilia would kill me if I kept you going in this light," he tells the horse, a more faithful companion than he has been. He swings down to the ground. Not Hyrule's ground, but then earth is earth, and whether in Hyrule or Fahrlentill he sleeps exposed. He can do nothing but pray and hope.
This was heavily inspired by the writings of Guy Gavriel Kay. I strongly recommend him. Under Heaven would be a good place to start.