Zelda felt like the princess from a fairy story, the kind that didn't worry about war or ancient enemies or the wills of the goddesses. Instead, she felt free. Free to laugh and smile, free to be able to truly enjoy the world for once.

Impa laced her left hand through Zelda's own. "This was a lovely spot for our picnic." Streaks of orange filled her white hair as the sun set over the meadow.

Zelda nodded. It was one of the few spots in a Hyrule untouched by war.

They stayed together, hands interlinked, even after the sun set.