Okay, so I'm a bit behind in terms of deadline; I apologize. But now, instead of a final, final chapter, you get two final chapters! If that makes any sense at all. I will upload the very last chapter in two days, but here is the (first) conclusion to the story!

Thank you once again to everyone kind enough to review. And on that note, please don't hesitate to leave--a new one or another one, it makes no nevermind to me. :)


The afternoon sun hung lazily in the air, spilling light through the high stained glass windows in an idle manner, cutting through the silence with colors and contrasts. The sheer emptiness of the chamber exerted pressure on Zelda's chest before slowly dissipating, as though she could feel the goddesses leave and ascend to the heavens once again. Despite the light, and the silence, and the weight of the room, however, the princess of Hyrule focused all her energy and attention on one single individual: the chosen hero.

It was a few moments before either Link or Zelda moved; they stood at opposite ends of the room, staring at the other in a new understanding that had everything and nothing to do with the prayers they had just spent hours making. Zelda was at first surprised to see Link returning from his goddess's altar, given his previous disposition on faith and heavenly intervention. He was simply not the praying type, and yet as far as she could tell he had been in prayers for just as long as she had.

Against the altar of the goddess of courage, Link appeared surer of himself, more at ease than Zelda had ever seen him. Courage, already inherent in his blood and soul, now radiated off his being in a way that made Zelda, who stood some twenty yards from him, feel braver.

Although the Princess of Hyrule now realized her own commitment to the hero, her feelings had faded a bit from just a moment ago. It was as if a tremendous force of affection and adoration and love had left her being just as her soul had broken into fragments again—the love of all her incarnations was imprinted on her heart, but she could only sense a small seed of it. Her spirit had expanded, in her conversation with the goddesses, to fit all the love she had ever had for the hero. But in their absence, and the absence of her soul in its entirety, she only felt the remnants of that love etched in the empty hollow of her heart—the love as it had been long ago and what it could be in time.

Each walked across the floor at the same time, meeting up in the middle, all the while looking at each as though they had never truly done so. Link smiled at the princess softly, understanding flashing in his eyes as he offered his elbow. The princess accepted it graciously and they walked from the chamber together, never turning back. It was the last time they would ever see the temple in that form, in any lifetime, and yet the thought did not cross their minds or, if it did, did not bother them in the slightest. It was time to move on.

They crossed through to the forest world in another brilliant flash of light and color, though rather than shielding their eyes they simply averted them by looking at each other. Their shyness not yet fully dissolved, they smiled and looked away again just as the brightness subsided and the forest materialized before them. Link helped Zelda through the doorway by gently pulling her hand forward but Zelda stopped in her tracks, lost in thought. He looked back at her expectantly, their hands still clasped together when the goddesses spoke to the princess once again.

Zelda, you must not linger in this place…You are needed in your castle and must return…alone.

The princess stood calmly, as though she had expected this command and merely listened out of politeness. Of course there would be more to the story than a simple reconciliation; of course the goddesses would not simply let the two come together at last, natural laws no longer holding the two opposites apart. All of the excitement and delight that bubbled in her chest just moments ago now burst in a sudden sense of foreboding. She knew what had to be done and yet with the hero holding her hand so firmly, so warmly, she felt torn in two.

Link heard the same command from the goddesses, with ears as long as the Zelda's, but he did not seem as accepting. His mouth fell open at first in surprise and then shut sharply, his jaw tightening in a rigid line that spoke volumes of his displeasure. His piercing stare made Zelda turn her gaze away, to the side, out of guilt and shame and resentment.

"What will you do?"

It was a simple inquiry and yet there were millions of other questions, some accusations, laced into it. The most obvious, the most tangible, of them was simply: will you leave?

But Zelda had to leave. If the goddesses asked it of her, she had to do it, not only because of the dire consequences she was sure would occur should she disobey—no, the principal reason for her return would be out of her own sense of obligation and duty. She was not a ruler who preferred to sit aside and watch others correct her mistakes. She was not a ruler who allowed others to perform a task which she was perfectly capable of performing. She would return to the castle and oversee the rest of the restoration as she had wanted to do before ordered, by her counsel and her guilt, to make the religious journey to the Sacred Grove.

Zelda did not know if Link harbored the same affection for her as she did for him; she did not know if there was any way for them to have any sort of life together. She did not even know if the goddesses would allow them to live in peace, together. And although she wanted that for herself, the princess in her rose above. Her priorities were her kingdom and then her heart, and always in that order. She did not know of any other way.

The thought tore at Zelda's chest, but she shrugged it off as she knew she must. The goddesses, in their reply, in their order, only meant to spare her feelings. Din, Farore and Nayru had told her they would send her a sign once they had decided whether she and the hero were meant to be together. Their command for her to return to the castle, without him, must have been their decision in total. It had been decided that Link and Zelda, together, side by side, could never be.

Tears threatened to spill from her eyes, and a lump of sorrow rose in Zelda's throat. She knew what she must say to him and what she must do to him now that they were forbidden from any sort of companionship. She had to leave him, as they had instructed, she had to forget about him, as her head ordered. He did not care for her like she cared for him; he did not love her like she loved him. The empty hollow of her heart, from where the love of her ancestors had merged with her own, seemed even emptier now in the face of this revelation.

Link appeared to understand her decision even before she said it; as she deliberated, his eyes grew darker, his touch colder, and he looked away. So much had happened between them in the temple, before the goddesses. But now, in the face of reality and humanity, against duty and expectations and misunderstandings, the hero and the princess were lost.

Zelda did not notice Link's sudden strife. Her decision set, her future unfurled, she met Link's question with her own. "What will you do?"

He made no acknowledgment of her question, instead looking down at their hands entwined, where his grip seemed to be slipping just as hers did. When Link finally spoke, his voice was rough and full of emotion. He let his hand fall away from hers, and Zelda immediately felt their connection weaken.

"I will return to my village. I will help with the repairs there and continue to work on the ranch."

Her heart began to race and her breathing became a little more rapid. She knew the answer, again, before she asked but she had to ask anyway, if not just for curiosity sake then for the appeasement of her heart.

"And then?"

Link's hand fell into a fist, and he clenched it harshly to his side, anguish deepening into conviction. "And then I will live my life the way it was meant to be lived, before any of this ever happened."

"And this is what you want?" The question came out before Zelda could stop it.

Link turned away from her slowly, walking down the steps, as his answer came like a whisper on the wind. "This is how it must be."

Zelda's hand rose to her throat, and then to her mouth, as though she might be sick. The tears that had threatened to spill before now flowed freely down her cheeks and she let them stay there for a time, cooling her temper and her spirit. She hardly ever cried, but she felt as though her eyes had been watery for the entire religious trip and it shocked her to realize it.

It hurt to hear Link's rejection, but what had she expected? Would he really just chase after her and save her time and time again? No man, pride be damned, had the resilience and the patience to put up with someone like her, someone so rigid in their temperament and unpredictable in their emotion. He had done what was asked of her and she could expect no more from him, not even love—especially not love.

The tears did not last long, and they dried before Zelda stepped down from the ledge herself, walking across the embedded image of the Triforce and past the stone guardians. They did not look at her in her shame and grief and she did not look at them.

She found Link in the open chamber, sitting quietly on one of the ledges some twenty feet in the air. She did not question how he got there, and her surprise at finding him so intent on leaving was hidden as she asked, "Please, Link, will you come down here?"

He looked at her sharply, but not in her eyes; he seemed to be acknowledging her presence but unable to actually look at her. She could not detect any single emotion in his eyes, his lashes and lids cast down. His expression did not change as he jumped from the ledge, landing lightly on his feet, still looking just beyond her. She held out her hand to him, her lips quivering in regret as she solidified her decision. "Please, Link, take my hand and I will return us to Faron Province."

If her tone or intent displeased him he did not show it: he merely brought his hand up, seemingly bored, barely taking her hand as though not wanting to touch her. Her heart tore even more in two at his sudden reserve but she kept her expression neutral, presenting the stony face she wore, flawlessly, everyday in her life at court. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes.

A surge of strength began to slowly fill her being, rippling through her in waves of magic that might have radiated off her if not for her years—centuries, really—of controlling it. She forced her grief to work in her favor, channeling the energy in a quick turn of her wrist, pulling them both through the darkness and space and time. They landed softly on the other side of the forest and gorge, back onto the tree trunk ledge overlooking the Forest Temple.

As soon as their feet hit the ground, Link released his grip on her hand. His eyes opened to take in their surroundings, and, realizing where they were, immediately set off in the direction of their previous camp. His anger or resentment or bitterness pushed him forward, leaving Zelda to stare after him, her hand raised as though meaning to stop him, but unable to do so.

She understood his acrimony, knew that he was justified in his embittered actions and damaged disposition. And she also knew that he was beyond reproach, beyond forgiveness, just as sure as she knew his favorite color and his temperamental nature—that was simply Link. His humor was short but lively, his trust easily given but never lightly, and once betrayed he did not look back.

But the feelings stirred in her chest like something she had felt before. She must have had to face this decision before. She must have had to watch him walk away before. And she must have turned her back and done the same.

She watched him cross to the other side of the area, disappearing around the corner, before she finally sighed and moved to follow him. She walked calmly, the peace from the temple still radiating from her while her insides twisted with pain and regret. Twill the vendor bird observed her passing in silence, like a funeral-goer watching the deceased pass on.

When she reached the other side, she saw that he sat atop his mare, pulling the reins of her now saddled horse along with him. She felt her heart break into even smaller pieces but refused to let it show. Calmly, she reached for the reins when he handed them to her and she quickly mounted her horse in one swift motion. She thought she saw the corner of his mouth flick, but whether it was in frown or smile she couldn't tell.

There was brief silence as they sized each other up, like friends now turned into opponents. They both stared at each other; eyes squinted in the semi-darkness, refusing to speak but hesitant to go. The princess's face was stony and unyielding; the hero's face was hard and distant. They were formidable rivals, each daring the other to do the right thing, not realizing that the right thing is often never the best thing. They both wanted happiness and escape but they were bound by their sacrifices and duty and anger and therefore neither could win.

Link spoke, cutting Zelda off just as she opened her mouth. But instead of apologizing, as Zelda was about to, and instead of reconciling the situation, as Zelda had intended, he tightened his hold on the reins and looked at her in the descending darkness. "Be safe." Then he turned his back on her and rode furiously into the night, leaving her alone and empty and without a goodbye.

Zelda reached Hyrule Field late into the night, riding as hard and as swift as she had ever ridden before. As soon as Link had turned away from her, the anger and frustration that she had been keeping bottled seem to explode from her chest, shuddering down her limbs and forcing her into action. She wanted to ride after Link, force him to listen, condemn him in the most unforgivable words. She wanted to push him off his horse, grab hold of him shamelessly, compel him to understand. But he was far too fast and too seasoned a rider to doddle—he was out of sight before she reached the crossroads. Her horse held at the juncture, waiting for her to decide which path to take: the easy one or the hard one?

In the end, she chose the easy one, riding away from Ordon Province and toward her castle home as though on fire. And she was on fire, in a sense; the adrenaline and anger drove her insane for the few hours it took to reach the field, shaking from her any coherent and sensible thought as she fought against her treacherous heart.

She rode and rode and rode and rode, never looking back to see if she was being followed. If she was honest with herself, she did not care if she was being followed. If it was the hero, she wanted away from him; if it was an enemy, let it take her. She knew enough about fate and destiny to know that if misfortune was coming for her, she should not try to outrun it.

Trees, rocks, scattered remains of gates and bridges—they were not given a second's thought as Zelda flew by them, their image shadowy and dark. It was a dangerous and insipid ride, for both her and the horse. The area was treacherous even during the daytime, and with limited vision and no concern for safety, Zelda knew she was at risk. But she also knew she didn't care.

Before long, her poor horse whinnied in fatigue and discord. It was then that she realized she had pushed the mare beyond its limits; it had made the two days journey in only a few short hours. She slowed the creature down carefully, taking care not to alarm it and bring any attention to their location, and she directed it toward a large formation of rock in the field. Chiding herself silently, Zelda lowered herself from the saddle to attend to it. This was no place to stop and certainly no place to rest given they were out in the open and the sky was so dark, but the princess couldn't force the mare to ride on for the rest of the night.

Movement, just out of sight, caused her to stiffen and remain in the saddle. She heard the rustling of leaves and the heavy tread of footsteps to her left, but when she turned her head she could not see through the heavy darkness. She kept her eyes trained on the spot, waiting for some subtle movement or sound to mark the presence of another creature, but the night was cold and gloomy and refused to reveal its secrets.

Sighing, Zelda lowered herself to the ground just as an arrow shot through the night, piercing the very spot she had been sitting not three seconds ago. Immediately she unsheathed her sword and turned to face an invisible opponent. Something was around her, something sinister and intent on her harm, but still she could see nothing. Her normally sharp eyes seemed too weary to pick up on the enemy. Until they were upon her.

A group of moblins, heavy with weaponry and shields, rained down upon her from all sides, hacking and slashing and slicing with no mercy. Their grunting and hissing frightened the princess, if only because she had no warning. Zelda tried to remount her horse but the beast, frightened at the attack, reared back to kick at the monsters, preventing her from grabbing the saddle, let alone the reins. She might be able to defend herself, but the horse stood no chance, so, parrying a few ill attempted attacks, Zelda used the flat side of her blade to slap the horse's end and send it hurtling into the night, away from the monsters. And herself.

She fought off a few of the less experienced and less brutal creatures easily, often striking them before they knew where she was. But the sheer number of the monsters propelled her back, deftly retreating in the opposite direction of her horse so as to better grasp the situation.

When she felt she had run far enough, she turned to face the moblins, trying to gauge their strength and number. There were more than double the amount she had faced on her journey there, even after she had disposed of a few, and after identifying their leader she realized it from the same group she had warded off before. Some showed slash marks on their rough skins and the largest one, the leader, was burned from his waist to his face. To know that they had been waiting for her to return, for her to return when she was beyond physically and emotionally weary and totally alone, struck fear into Zelda's heart.

She tried to fend off the attack, but several swords came at her at once and she did not know where to turn. She pushed back still so that a few of the blades, including that of the leader, missed her by only centimeters. Others struck her, however, slicing long across her garments and cutting her flesh but shallowly. The cuts drew blood but Zelda knew they didn't matter; more would be coming and not all of them would miss their mark.

The leader seemed annoyed that she had survived this long into the attack, and pushed through the group so as to better face her. Zelda stumbled away from him, as far back as she could go until the moblins began to encircle her so that she had no way of retreat. Glances over her shoulder confirmed what they already knew: they had her surrounded and they had her outnumbered.

She barely raised her sword when the leader, sneering, lunged toward her, aiming for her heart. The strike was so directed and so fast that all Zelda could do was close her eyes and give one last, silent prayer to the goddesses. She waited and waited for the blow to pierce her but still it did not come.

The moblins around her growled and hissed in anger, but she could also detect some moaning and gurgling and screaming. When she opened her eyes, she saw several moblins crawling toward her, reaching for her boots with long arrow shafts gleaming from their backs. Still she did not understand what had caused it and she looked at the leader of the group to confirm her suspicions.

The leader reached for her as well, madly, blood frothing at his mouth. The silver of a long blade tip protruded from his chest and the sight of it both scared and exhilarated the princess. She stepped back just as the monster fell forward, the blade withdrawing from his back, still held in Link's hand.

They stared at each other from across the darkness and their expressions wore both relief and fear. Link breathed deeply, taking in the sight of her, beckoning her to him in one fluid motion. Without a second's thought, Zelda reached him, raising her own sword to defend against the remainder of the army.

But at the sight of so many dead already, with their leader vanquished, most of the moblins ran off into the night. Link, however, seemed mad with rage, and he tore after many of them, slicing them open and shooting the rest in the back as they ran. Zelda tried to stop him, to pull him away from the area, but he would not cease until every single creature that had threatened her had been killed.

By the end of it, he stood apart from her, bloodied and gasping for air. He lowered his sword slowly, turning around to face her to make sure that she was all right. Again, they looked at each other but could find no words. Finally, bravery found the princess and she dropped her sword from her side and ran to him, to her hero, and jumped into his arms.


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