Disclaimer: I do not own the Legend of Zelda series

Dusk had fallen once more, and it was time to camp for the night.

It was Zelda's turn to be on first watch, much to Link's disapproval. He lay on his back all spread out, staring intently up at the stars with a flat frown that was a hair away from a pout. She sat cross-legged an arm's length away from him. She watched him, and smiled slightly. As polite and selfless as he always is, a breather in his silence and river rock-, a show of emotion that proved there was more to him than what he put out, -was always a refreshing and slightly entrancing experience. When she had finally reunited with him, it was amazingly startling how little he changed even, when he had amnesia (according to the locals in every town they went to). He looked exactly the same, his clothes just a bit more ragged. When they traveled it was as if no time had passed, only with just the two of them instead of all the guardians. She could walk in time with him. Or he could with her. She couldn't tell, which made her happy for some reason. The silence wasn't strained, it was serene and reassuring. They communicated in different ways, understood each other, like the balances of existence. She could trace his silhouette from memory. Zelda studied him as his stare turned into a glare, as if silently arguing with the sky and stars. From his battle-worn aura, she wouldn't blame him at this point.

She knew why he didn't like her being first watch. It wasn't that she couldn't take care of herself or was an unreliable watch. It was several other reasons. He still insisted on being her knight, him being the one who protected the princess. Again, he knew she wasn't helpless, but with how much pressure was put on him, he wanted to at least do the job. Another reason, stemming from this, was that there really wasn't actually a second watch often. Zelda and Link were both guilty on that part. They would just let the other sleep, and instead would mediate briefly at the early signs of dawn, when all threats were low. Another was that he was scared of going to sleep. Sometimes a nightmare would catch him in its clutches and he'd wake up in a startled fright, as clear as if it was a memory. Other times it's the fear he won't wake up. That he'll close his eyes and she'll be the last thing he sees and when he wakes she'll be gone and the world around him desolate and in ruins. Again. And sometimes it's simply because he is tired of sleeping and his body is restless with the need to do something more. There was the smallest bit of confusion around him at night when he feels all of these. Like a part of him doesn't know why he gets like this; that while they are justified now, the strength of these emotional processes is stronger than what he feels like they should be. Like they are etched in his soul and he can't shake them. She knows. They talked about it. She gets them too. That's why she liked Sheikah technology and science. It was something different, something that didn't remind her of the too real nightmares, the displacement from the known world, and the burning need to not be helpless and useless. These were feelings she couldn't put into words, especially not to her father. A part of her wishes she tried harder.

At some point Link had given up on his silent celestial argument and had turned to face her, his head resting on his arm, and was looking at her. His face was full of wistful adoration, lost in thought. They stayed like this for a while, looking at each other but not fully, as if it was the anchor to real life as they floated along. It broke when Link let out a big yawn. Well, actually he rolled over so he wouldn't show her that he yawned, but she knew anyway. Zelda smiled slightly and chuckled, shaking her head. When he turned back around his face was the same calm determination. It was like it was a personal challenge, to keep being awake even though he should sleep.

She shifted closer and gently ran her fingers into his hair, then slowly went down the side of his face with the tips of her fingers. She cupped the side of his jaw and brushed her thumb across his cheek, as if wiping away tears only she could see. They never broke eye contact, their eyes holding more memories than their brains could fathom. It could only be understood in a concept: Us. There will always be us. The nightmares were nightmares, the fears were fears, but they were always together, always connected. They will find a way to each other time and time again. The feeling had a weight as ancient and strong as the Great Deku Tree and the Master Sword. Then she gave a warm smile and an equally warm but firm pat on the head and sat back to her spot to keep watch for the night. The message was clear, and he gave in. Sleep. All is well.