AN: Hello, dear readers! Welp, I said this would be the final chapter before the epilogue, buuut at that time I didn't realize how very loooong it would turn out to be. When I reached 30 pages with much of it still summarized I decided to chop it in two. It's still the 2nd longest chapter yet (in word count). But I VOW the next chapter will be the last. :) What a marathon it's been!
Thank you as always for taking the time to review! Your feedback inspires me!
— DREAMS —
"When peace returns to Hyrule... it will be time for us to say goodbye…"
.
The flight from Hyrule Castle, which Zelda remembered to be endless and terrifying, proved a quick and surreal experience when she lived it a second time. Transported back to the body of a child, she found herself tightly grasped in Impa's arms as their steed tore across Hyrule Field. Above them the pouring rain had eased to a drizzle, and winking stars peeked through the dispersing clouds. Both contradicted Zelda's memory of that night, signaling that something had indeed changed.
Moments passed before Impa registered this and slowed their horse to a halt. Her iron grip around Zelda's small frame eased to a comfortable embrace as she heaved a sigh of relief. The princess clutched her arms in response, closing her eyes as a cool breeze swept across her face. With each breath she smelled grass and fertile earth, and the hum of nighttime critters caressed her ears—so different from the lifeless world they had left behind.
Impa held their embrace for several moments, letting them absorb their new reality. Then gently she loosened her arms, took up the reins, and urged their horse back toward Castletown.
Smoke and ash stung Zelda's eyes as they crossed the drawbridge, and with a sinking heart she saw that most of the town market stood in ruins. Carcasses of slain monsters still lay in the streets, and the sounds of mourning rang in Zelda's ears.
"What happened?" Her people asked each other. "Is it over?"
Upon reaching the castle grounds, Zelda was again dismayed to see the scope of the destruction. Stone walls had been torn down, greenery burnt away. The dead had been covered or carted out of sight, and piles of rubble had been cleared off the fractured, bloodstained road. Everywhere people worked to reverse the damage, moving in a trancelike state while their superiors issued commands. Others hurried to install temporary defenses, fearing another impending wave of attacks.
Zelda knew those attacks would never come. Ganondorf had been sealed away in the Evil Realm, never to return. Most of his servants had fled with the dawn, and the rest had been killed on sight. For these people, the war ended as quickly as it began.
It was a triumph destined to remain unwritten in the pages of history. Zelda had never concerned herself with glory, but she had not expected to feel so hollow in the wake of victory. Hyrule's future held a renewed promise of peace, yet all she could muster was a weary sense of relief.
.
As the days passed, life in the castle slowly returned to normal. The veil of fear had lifted, allowing light and laughter to fill the halls once more. The guards and staff resumed their routines, and the nobles flocked to her father's court. Gossip was the worst offense Zelda witnessed, and luxury was no longer a dream.
Yet despite the merry atmosphere, Zelda found herself in low spirits. She sought solitude between lessons and prayers, wandering the manicured gardens with her eyes downcast. A strange sense of loss festered within her, and a familiar loneliness crept into her heart.
Her thoughts often strayed to the boy in green, the unsung hero of Hyrule. She assumed he had returned to his quiet life in the forest—a life she disrupted when she woke him to his destiny. Like her, he had been given the chance to relive his childhood days in peace, but they were both forever changed. Time had reversed Ganondorf's devastation, but the memories remained, carved into their minds and imprinted on their souls.
Every day she recalled their last farewell, wondering if she had imagined the reluctance in his face. Sometimes she fantasized about traveling to the Lost Woods to find him, if only to see he was happy. Of course she never attempted it. She did not wish to intrude, but more than that she feared what she would find, that he might look upon her with indifference… or resentment.
.
The Gerudo tribe, Ganondorf's people, had appointed Nabooru as their new leader. When Zelda's father received the news, he invited her to Hyrule Castle in the name of peace. Nabooru arrived in a small but impressive caravan, bringing lavish gifts of spices, artifacts, and jewels, along with a proclamation that Ganondorf had been executed for his crimes. It was a lie based in truth, the only explanation that the people of Hyrule could accept.
Zelda had not been present for Nabooru's reception, but she had watched the scene unfold through a window outside the throne room, just as she once watched Ganondorf's reception. Only that time she felt no ominous foreboding brought on by prophetic dreams, and Nabooru's pledge to form an alliance was genuine.
Zelda did feel something familiar, however.
For it was in that moment, just as she began to turn away from the window, that she felt a tingling on her right hand, one she had not felt since the final battle against Ganon. The hairs stood on the back of her neck, and she found herself rooted in place, frozen in disbelief.
It cannot be…
With a pounding heart she slowly turned around, one hand drifting to her parted lips.
And there he stood, clothed in the same green tunic and cap, looking just as he had the day they met—minus his fairy companion, she noted. He greeted her with a smile—a hopeful, nervous smile, void of the resentment she had feared. Zeldas's heart swelled, and for the first time in weeks a delighted smile lit her face.
"...Link!"
Her eyes opened.
Slowly Zelda sat up, blinking as her eyes adjusted to the sunlight filtering through the window dressings.
How… did I get here…?
She threw off the covers and left the bed, pulling on her robe as she left the room—only to pause in the doorway. There she found Impa, seated in the next room with a book and a steaming cup of tea.
Zelda observed her for a moment, feeling an unbidden rush of affection for the woman who once served as her guardian. Memories of those seven long years they spent in hiding seemed unusually fresh in her mind…
Memories, she realized with amazement, that she could not recall mere hours ago.
"Zelda, you're awake..."
Impa had barely risen from her seat when Zelda rushed forward to embrace her.
"Ne'lear, what is it?" Impa murmured, lifting a hand to smooth Zelda's hair. "Was it a nightmare?"
"No," Zelda whispered, pulling away to give her a tearful smile. "Not a nightmare. Impa… I don't know what happened last night, but something has changed."
xXx
"Greetings, your Majesty."
Link turned from his conversation with a small group of lords, recognizing one of Zelda's personal servants as she dropped a curtsy.
"Pardon my disturbance," she said, offering him a slip of paper, "but I have a message from her Majesty."
Link took the paper and thanked her, breaking the seal as she curtsied and departed. The lords waited patiently, aware that the queen's words took precedence over theirs.
Instantly Link recognized Zelda's beautiful script, something that remained unchanged despite her memory loss. He could not recall the last time she had sent him a written message—there had been little need when they shared a telepathic bond.
"Meet me in the place where we first met."
He read the words twice, struggling to hide his surprise. As far as he knew, Zelda did not remember that exact location, and he had never told her.
Careful not to betray his eagerness, Link assured the lords they would resume their conversation another time and moved to leave the chamber. The act sent a ripple effect through the room, silencing voices and turning heads as people registered his exit. Those closest to him dropped sweeping bows and curtsies, always eager to gain favor with their king.
From the main corridor Link took the first door outside, struggling to keep a proper, unhurried pace as he headed toward the central courtyards.
Do not jump to conclusions, he told himself. Impa might have told her. It could be nothing but a gesture of good will.
He walked the hedge labyrinth, past bubbling fountains and flowering arches until he reached a corridor which opened to a smaller courtyard encircled by an artificial stream. A stage-like structure stood on the opposite side, likely built for outdoor gatherings but rarely used.
A much younger Zelda had been standing on that very structure when Link first laid eyes on her eighteen years ago. She had stood with her back to him, unaware of his presence as she peered through a small window into the throne room. It was the perfect place to spy on guests, and Zelda had been using it for that very purpose.
Even as a boy, oblivious to the weight of her importance, he had been fascinated by the bold young princess.
And there he found her again, sitting on the steps with her back to that same window. She did not stand as he approached but merely smiled, shielding her eyes from the sunlight until his shadow fell over her.
"Surprised?" she teased.
"I am," he admitted. "How did you know to come here?"
Her smile turned rather secretive. "Would you believe it came back to me this morning?"
Link stared at her, unsure which startled him more—her words or the casual tone she used to say them. Zelda seemed aware of his struggle and offered a humbler smile.
"Sit with me," she said softly, patting the step beside her.
He did as she asked, his eyes fixed on her profile as she smoothed the embroidered frock she wore over a dark blue gown.
"I'm glad to see you're all right," he said gently.
"Oh, yes…" She turned to give him a sheepish look. "I'm sorry I worried you. Impa said you were the one who brought me back here. Thank you… for doing that."
Link shook his head. "No need to thank me. It was the least I could do."
He did not mention how unsettling it had been to carry her limp form through Castletown, just as he had done the night of her accident. The circumstances were obviously quite different, and Maddox had advised him not to worry. Yet Link's sleep had been restless, his dreams filled with images of her tumbling down the mountainside and lying motionless in the rain…
"Besides," he told her, pushing those thoughts aside as he tried to lighten the mood, "it was hardly strenuous. You're light as a fairy."
She did not return his smile. Instead she studied him with focused, unblinking eyes, as though searching his innermost thoughts.
"I know how strong you are," she said softly. "And how brave and clever you are. I know exactly what you're capable of. I witnessed that when you took up the Master Sword."
Link could not help his stunned expression. "You… remember…?"
Zelda nodded, offering the ghost of a smile.
"Those horrific seven years, yes." She sighed as her gaze drifted toward the far side of the courtyard. "Surviving with Impa, helping you, facing Ganon… All of it came back in my dreams last night."
Again Link stared in amazement, struggling to absorb the weight of this change.
"...You seem so calm," he said slowly. "Is this… difficult for you?"
Zelda breathed another sigh, her face contemplative as she sought the right words.
"It's strange," she murmured. "I remember fearing that these memories would overwhelm me… consume me, even. But now… it feels perfectly normal, as though I never lost them in the first place. When I woke up this morning, it took me a minute to realize that I remember things I could not recall yesterday.
"I think it also helps that I remember what happened after we returned to this time," she added. "How disorienting it was to be a child again… but also the peace that followed. I know the Imprisoning War happened years ago, in another time, and the memories feel distant."
"I'm… glad to hear that," Link murmured, still a bit stunned. "What is the last thing you saw in these dreams?"
Zelda gave him a more genuine smile. "When you came back to see me, just like the first time we met."
Disappointment pricked at his heart, despite her cheerful reply, and Link struggled to find a positive response without sounding insincere.
"I know," Zelda soothed, giving him a sympathetic look. "That doesn't help us much. I remember being your ally, your shadow, and your guide. I remember admiring you, worrying about you… Sometimes I even envied you. But it was all wrapped up in the overwhelming task at hand, and our desperation to succeed. We couldn't bother with anything more, and I know that all came later… So I imagine these memories are only a small comfort to you."
Again Link found himself speechless, struck by her newfound insight. Already the memories seemed to have changed her, restoring another piece of the woman he knew.
"...It's true that these early memories don't change much between us," he told her, "but they bring us that much closer."
He reached for her hand, pausing a moment as he stroked his thumb across her knuckles.
"I did a lot of thinking while I was in the desert. And I realized that, regardless of what happens, I need to focus on what we have gained, instead of what I've lost. It's the only way we can move forward.
"So this gives me hope," he added. "And it is a comfort. That's all that matters right now."
Zelda placed her free hand over his, giving it a small, appreciative squeeze.
"I will do everything I can to recover more memories," she assured him. "Something happened in that chamber last night, and if these dreams stop coming, I'll go back and try again, as many times as it takes."
She spoke with hushed sincerity, as though reciting a vow. Link searched her determined face, feeling a pang of guilt.
"That's a loaded endeavor," he said softly. "We've shared some difficult memories."
She gave a light shrug. "Nothing worth having comes easily, as they say. I'm not afraid anymore, Link. I said I would find a way, and I meant it."
A warm feeling rose within him, and instinctively he lifted a hand to her cheek, trailing his fingers along the delicate curve. Zelda blushed as she often did when he touched her, but Link found it didn't bother him anymore.
"I believe you," he said. "I'm sorry I can't do more to help you…"
"Don't be sorry," she soothed. "This is something I must do myself, I think. Though I do foresee many interesting conversations to come."
She gave him a charming smile, one he couldn't help but return.
"I look forward to them."
xXx
For the next several nights, Zelda dreamt of her childhood—of lessons from history to etiquette to astrology, of grand parties and nosy courtiers. She remembered her father as an imposing man of cold indifference, quick to admonish and slow to praise. She remembered the unwavering love Impa showed her, bringing comfort in the countless ways she encouraged, taught, and listened.
She dreamt of Link's frequent visits, how they explored the castle or played games in the garden. She remembered the colder days they spent in the library, huddled by the fire as she helped him build upon his limited education. They often digressed from their lessons with irrelevant talk and laughter, but Link devoured her teachings with keen interest, eager to learn and improve.
Before long, a year of peace had passed, and change crept into Zelda's life.
It began with Link's growing restlessness, his sudden need to explore beyond the Lost Woods in search of his fairy companion. He had admitted this to Zelda with reluctance, fearful of disappointing her. As much as she wanted him to stay, Zelda knew he needed the journey and encouraged him to go. She even lent him the Ocarina of Time, insisting he take it for his protection. Secretly, though, her gesture had served another purpose: if friendship alone did not bring him back, the obligation of returning her heirloom would.
Two weeks later he did return, still without his fairy but full of fascinating stories about a land called Termina. Zelda had listened with rapt attention as he recounted his adventures involving enchanted masks, a corrupted skull kid, and a falling moon, wishing she could experience such a world at his side.
As the months passed, Link embarked on a number of fruitless quests, each one longer than the last. Zelda continued to lend him the ocarina, too proud and soft-hearted to express her growing displeasure. Eventually Link was forced to give up his search, but he continued to explore the kingdoms surrounding Hyrule's border, always thirsting for new adventures. He visited Zelda between his travels, and their friendship never wavered, but privately she harbored some feelings of envy and resentment. She saw the world through her studies, which hardly compared to his travels. Worst of all was the hurt she felt in his absence, the frustration that he failed to understand how bored and isolated she was without him.
Four years passed before his wanderlust finally left him. War had cast its ugly shadow upon Hyrule once again, and Link had wasted no time enlisting in the army. He was finally home to stay, always close by on the castle grounds, but Zelda only saw him in passing. By then she was fourteen years old, and her old playmate was no longer permitted to see her. Their friendship remained strong, and they found other ways to keep in touch, but it was not the same. Gone were the days they had spent laughing in the gardens or huddling by the fire with a book.
.
Zelda knew these were old memories, and they did not feel so immediate when she woke, but she felt a lingering sadness nonetheless. She remembered the loss she had felt as Link drifted further out of reach, the ache she had smothered in the doldrums of daily life.
She spoke openly about these memories with Link, usually in the evenings when they walked the gardens before retiring to their chambers. Sometimes they would find a secluded bench and reminisce until the fireflies came out. Sometimes he would take her hand and knit their fingers together, caressing her with the stroke of his thumb.
It was the smallest gesture of affection, yet intimate enough to send the blood rushing to her face. Zelda would sometimes hold her breath, waiting for him to lean in and kiss her—something she had lost the courage to do since that night in the library.
But he never did. In fact, as Zelda recovered more memories, she began to notice a change in his demeanor. He seemed distracted, even nervous about something, though Zelda wondered if she imagined it. He was under a great deal of stress after all, handling the royal duties on his own. She accompanied him to meetings with the Council but provided little support, acting more as a shadow to learn from his example. Link still attended court alone, and she knew he dreaded that.
Then, one night, Zelda came to suspect another cause for his behavior.
The realization came when she dreamt of another man, one who had been promised to her at birth. With his velvet tongue and impeccable style, he was well versed in flattery, lavishness, and romance. As Zelda drew closer to womanhood, he took a renewed interest in his flowering bride-to-be, showering her with expensive gifts and touching her with possessive, wanton hands. In her naivety, Zelda had thought herself lucky, even blessed, to be matched with this attractive, exciting young prince.
But she had been deceived. Though she did not remember it, she knew her father had severed the engagement at her request, and that it resulted in pain and conflict for years to come.
If Link feared she might somehow develop romantic feelings for that man, he was sadly misguided.
Zelda's suspicion continued to irritate her as she lay awake the following morning, and the feeling only grew stronger when she and Link sat down for breakfast with Shayne. Link had barely poured his tea when she decided to confront him, right then and there.
.
"Well, I've remembered courting Ashton."
Link's cup stopped halfway to his lips, halting so sharply that hot tea spilled over the side and burned his fingers.
"Papa spilled!" Shayne said with a laugh, oblivious to his father's grimace as he set the cup down and dried his hand.
"Oh, I'm sorry," Zelda said, touching his arm before handing him another napkin. "That was poor timing."
Link shot Shayne a playful glare, earning another giggle. "I doubt there's a good time for that statement," he told Zelda.
She offered a weak smile. "I suppose you're right."
"How much do you remember?" he asked with forced interest.
"Only that I was quite smitten with him. And that he took a rather sudden interest in me. And the public adored us, apparently."
"Fantastic," Link muttered.
"He liked to dress me in extravagant gowns and jewels."
"That he did."
"He was rather obsessed with fashion, actually."
"That he was."
"Thaddey was," Shayne echoed, reaching for a biscuit. Zelda glanced at the boy, then back to her husband, who focused on salting his eggs.
"Is this what you've been nervous about lately?" she finally asked, speaking in the Sheikah tongue so that Shayne would not understand. "What did you think I would do, pack my bags and rush off to Vandelle Castle?"
Link cast her a dry look. "Of course not."
"I'm no longer that smitten girl, you know. I remember feeling that way once, but that's all. I know it all went sour, and that he did terrible things. I'm not about to overlook all of that."
"I knew you wouldn't; I just…" Link shook his head and sighed. "I don't know what I thought."
"You thought I might lose interest in you for a while."
He gave a halfhearted shrug. "Yes, I suppose I did… wonder about that."
Inwardly Zelda sighed, then reached over to touch his hand, causing him to meet her sympathetic, exasperated gaze.
"I know I'm still missing our memories," she said, "but our marriage isn't that fragile, and I am not that foolish.
"Yes, he was an exciting change for me back then. But he also unnerved me at times, though I was very determined to ignore it. I don't remember loathing him yet—or falling for you. But I know that I feel much safer with you now than I ever did with him."
Link's face softened, and Zelda realized how much he had needed to hear that. Glancing at Shayne, he leaned forward to place his hand over hers.
"You really feel safe with me?" he asked, adopting her use of Sheikah.
"Of course," she said gently. "Why do you doubt it?"
"I haven't handled this very well since you woke," he admitted. "I… regret some things."
"There's no need for that," she soothed. "I haven't handled this perfectly either. We've done the best we could. You're much too hard on yourself."
Across the table Shayne chewed in silence, his curious eyes shifting from one parent to the other.
"Though I don't think I've given you enough reason to worry about these dreams of mine," she added, eyeing Link with disapproval. "Ye of little faith."
He did not miss the annoyance in her tone.
"You're right," he murmured, bringing her hand to his lips. "I'm being silly. Forgive me?"
He kissed her hand a second, third time, causing her to blush despite her look of feigned offense.
"You're forgiven," she said, suppressing a smile as she pulled her hand away.
xXx
She sat before her vanity, staring at her gloomy reflection with tired eyes.
You could be in the library right now, a voice spat in her head. But you had to lose control and ruin everything.
She set down her hair brush and rose with a sigh, tossing her robe on the chair before climbing into bed. The sheets were cold and unwelcoming, so unlike the warm fire she normally enjoyed at that hour. She imagined him there, kindling the flames as he waited, no doubt in equally low spirits. How many times would he return before he accepted that she would not—could not—see him again?
You can't leave it like this, a gentler thought surfaced. He deserves better.
It's too risky. And it's wrong. He is not your intended.
Zelda squeezed her eyes shut, willing herself not to cry. She had spent the past several nights crying herself to sleep since it happened, wishing the persistent ache in her chest would subside.
Even in the midst of her sorrow, the memory of that night still gave her chills—and a small amount of shame. She never should have grabbed his collar when he tried to pull away. She never should have pressed up against him or done those things with her tongue…
Zelda turned over with a frustrated sigh, ignoring the near painful twinge in her belly. She marveled at how the thought of him left her in such a state, even as the tears escaped her eyes.
...Zelda?
She sat bolt upright, certain she heard his voice in her head.
Don't be absurd, she scolded herself. Even if he is in the castle, you know he can't get close enough.
Still she waited another moment, her head tilted as she listened for a voice unheard by her ears. Beyond the pounding of her own heart, however, she heard only silence.
Deciding she was losing her mind, Zelda punched her pillow and settled back down against it with a wistful sigh.
Zelda, please answer.
She froze, eyes wide in disbelief.
...Link?
I'm on the balcony. Can you let me in?
Zelda kicked the sheets away and scrambled out of bed, muttering words unsuited for a princess as she straightened her nightgown. All the while panic and joy clashed within her, irrational and exciting.
She paused for a moment to compose herself, pulling on her robe and taking a few deep breaths to avoid bursting onto her own balcony like a madwoman. Then calmly she went to open the doors, glancing about as casually as she could manage.
And there he was, so perfectly blended with the shadows she felt even Impa would give full marks for stealth. How he had managed to scale the wall undetected she did not want to know.
Feigning obliviousness, she moved to the balcony rail and leaned against it, pretending to gaze up at the stars.
Inside, she barked. Stay low.
He did so quickly, though she dared not turn her head to confirm it. She lingered by the rail for another minute or two, combing nervous fingers through her hair as she observed the guards below. Satisfied that no one seemed aware of Link's intrusion, Zelda finally returned to her bedroom and closed the doors behind her—shutting the curtains as well. Then she turned to see Link approach her, looking nervous but determined.
"What are you doing?" she hissed. "You could have been seen! You could have been shot!"
"I'm not an idiot," he retorted, unsurprised by her outburst. "I came down from the roof; no one saw me."
She blinked at him. "The roof. Is that supposed to be a reasonable explanation?"
"What else could I do? I haven't seen you in days! You're avoiding me."
Zelda opened her mouth to argue, then closed it with a frustrated huff.
"We are not having this conversation."
Her limbs felt numb as she moved to her vanity, her hands trembling as she retrieved the Ocarina of Time from its hidden compartment.
"You will take this," she said, turning to offer him the instrument, "and go to the Temple of Time. Then you will head back to the barracks where you belong."
Link ignored the ocarina and held her gaze, his eyes full of frustration and hurt.
"Where I belong," he echoed. "So that's it, then. The lowly soldier's a problem now—away with him."
Zelda lowered her hand and closed her eyes, struggling to keep her voice down.
"Don't accuse me of that. I'm trying to protect you."
"You're discarding me. After everything, you mean to walk away and leave it like this?"
"It was a mistake, Link. This will only bring us pain."
"We're already in pain!"
Zelda lifted her eyes to his, letting him see the tears she could not suppress. His face softened, and he paused to release a heavy, calming breath. Then he took the ocarina and set it aside.
"I know you feel something for me," he said gently, taking her hands in his. "You would not have kissed me otherwise."
"It doesn't matter how I feel—"
His hands moved to her arms, caressing them in a wordless plea.
"Please… let me say this."
She lowered her gaze, unable to look him in the eyes while he poured his heart out. Gently he tipped her face back up to his and held it there.
"You are the kindest, most brilliant, most beautiful person I have ever known," he said, his voice barely more than a whisper. "You deserve to be loved and appreciated, for everything that you are. I—I want to be the one who… who makes you feel that way…"
Zelda opened her mouth to speak, stopping when Link pressed his fingers to her lips.
"I know it's futile and forbidden and even dangerous," he admitted, his hand drifting to her cheek. "But if I must risk all of that just to talk with you, and laugh with you, then I will, without hesitation. I want to touch you like this, without offending you or alarming you…"
Then slowly he lowered his hand, uncertainty clouding his earnest face.
"But none of that matters if you don't want this too. And if you tell me this is over, I won't bother you again."
"Link…"
She took his hands as she struggled to form a response, reeling a bit from his heartfelt confession.
"Link, I… You know it isn't that simple," she stammered. "No matter what happens, we would have to walk away, as though nothing ever existed between us. Are you really prepared to do that? To go through that?"
He seemed to consider this a moment, gazing down at their interlaced fingers. For a moment Zelda feared he would retreat, that she had beaten him down with her reluctant stance and truthful words.
Then he leaned in closer, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to her cheek.
"If I don't try," he whispered to her flushed skin. "I will regret it the rest of my life."
Zelda stood with her eyes closed, frozen for several heartbeats, grasping for the will to stop him.
She found none.
Instead she turned her face toward his, angling her head as his mouth captured hers. Her hands came to rest on his chest, sliding up around his neck as his arms encircled her waist. They kissed again and again, each one more heated, each time more defiant of the odds working against them.
Only when they broke apart did Zelda feel the tears on her face. Gently Link moved to brush them away, caressing the moist skin below her eyes.
"...Will I see you tomorrow?"
Zelda's heart ached at the soft, hopeful tone of his voice, the adoration in his eyes.
"Yes," she soothed. "If I have my way."
He brightened at this, giving her the will to pry herself away from him.
"I hate to send you away," she said as she reached for the ocarina still lying on the bed. "But this is my bedchamber, and you really must leave before I do something truly stupid."
Link took the ocarina, turning it in his hands before he gave her a boyish smile. "Does that include a kiss goodnight?"
Zelda sighed and reached up around his neck, knowing she was far too eager to oblige.
xXx
He had barely started the final stretch of his training routine when he felt her draw near.
It began as a stirring in the back of his mind, the warmth of her presence growing stronger. It was a familiar, comforting sensation, though dulled by the barrier he still held in place. He could no longer project his thoughts or sense her emotions, but her presence was not something he could—or would—suppress.
The symbol on his hand prickled in response to her proximity, but still she did not make herself known. Clouds drifted across the midnight sky and hindered the crescent moon's weaker light, providing ample shadows for her to hide.
Link flexed his hand and resumed his exercises, choosing not to call her out. If she wanted to observe him in what she believed was secrecy, he saw no reason to stop her.
Having finished his strength exercises, he had only his sword techniques to review. Drawing his sword from its sheath, Link set the scabbard aside and assumed his first position.
He performed each movement more slowly than he would in combat, focusing on his footwork and the weight of his sword. He practiced cuts, lunges, thrusts, and feints, imagining how his opponent might react, or how he might deceive them. Sometimes he closed his eyes and quieted his mind, letting muscle memory take over as he repeated each exercise.
These movements served not only to sharpen his technique; they also provided a form of meditation, a way to clear his head and ease his spirit. He did not always achieve that level of serenity, but the mere effort seemed to benefit him each time.
Link liked to close his routine by spinning the blade, watching it blur as he cut the air with each satisfying whoosh. Then he finished with one final lunge, his blade straight and his feet balanced in one swift motion.
He held the position a few seconds, his muscles taut and his mind focused, then lowered his sword with a slow exhale. Moving to a nearby table, he reached for his scabbard and sheathed the blade with a snap.
"Can't sleep either?" he spoke, casting a look in Zelda's general direction.
A moment passed before she emerged, dressed in dark, travel clothes. She greeted him with a puzzled expression, apparently more confused than embarrassed.
"How did you… Could you see me...?"
"No, you were well hidden," Link assured her, reaching for a towel to dab his face and neck. "I can sense when you're near."
"So… you've known I was there since I arrived? And you didn't say anything?"
Link tossed the towel aside and gave her a mischievous smile, causing her blush to deepen a shade.
"Well," she huffed. "Do I have this… advantage too?"
"Your sensitivity is stronger than mine, actually—but it takes some getting used to," Link added, seeing her disheartened expression. "The nuances of the bond, I mean."
She nodded, though she did not seem reassured. Without the bond, and without her memories, Link still struggled to read her sometimes.
"I did have trouble sleeping, to answer your question," she said. "I dreamt of… complicated things. I thought a walk might clear my head."
Link reached for his jacket, unsure what to say. He could guess what memories had kept her awake, considering those she had recently recovered, but he didn't know how to broach the subject.
"Complicated, hm. Sounds like they might have involved me and a certain someone."
She gave him a weak smile, then sank down on a bench. "However did you know."
Link sat down next to her, unsure how to comfort her without more information. "Would it help to unload?"
"I don't think so," she sighed, leaving the bench to observe the training materials he had laid out. "I'm sorry; I'm sure you're eager to discuss my memories."
"Don't worry about that," he assured her. "We'll talk when you're ready."
"I think I need some kind of distraction," she murmured, fingering the hilt of a wooden training sword. Link watched as she picked it up and tested the weight.
"How about we spar for a bit?" he suggested.
She brightened at this. "Could we? Or are you finished for the night?"
Link stifled a laugh and set his jacket aside, moving to select his own training sword.
"I think I can find the stamina."
He took his place across from her, feeling a tug of nostalgia as the moonlight illuminated her eyes and cast a faint, silvery glow upon her hair.
"This feels familiar," Zelda said, as though reading his thoughts. "Have we done this before?"
Link smiled. "Many times. It's a good way to relieve stress."
"Sounds perfect." She assumed a pose and pointed her sword at him. "Let's see how I do."
They circled each other for several seconds, waiting for the other to make a move. Link advanced first, cutting the tension with an easy swipe. Zelda parried, and so their dance began.
Link continued to attack with casual cuts and swipes, trying to calculate how much skill she had lost. Zelda seemed almost annoyed by this, however, for she countered each move with aggression.
"You're holding back," she complained. "Don't."
He smiled and sped up his movements, swiping so fast that Zelda gasped and blocked just in time.
"It seems you've remembered some skills," Link said with approval.
She gave a light shrug. "Perhaps I never lost them. I seem to have retained most of my skills."
Link recalled the soothing music she often played on her harp, the chain of archery bullseyes he had watched her shoot the other day…
The way she stole his breath away that night in the library…
"I've noticed," he said in a low voice.
Zelda blushed and advanced with unnecessary force, but Link could tell she was pleased.
They sparred in silence for a while, focusing as Zelda tried to land a hit. As she continued to fail, however, Link saw a change come over her, in the way her smile faded and her face darkened with frustration. In the way her footwork slowed and her movements lost their usual finesse.
"I feel like such a fool," she blurted out as she swiped at him. "Knowing how I submitted myself to his abuse. How I believed his self-serving lies..."
Link needed no explanation, nor was he surprised by her outburst. He watched her launch a series of careless blows, her teeth clenched as her sword came down hard against his. Link kept a defensive stance, glad to see her expel such frustration.
"When did I become so pathetic?" she said bitterly. "Acting like such a coward—"
"You were never a coward. Everything you did was a selfless choice, to protect our people from potential war. That was brave, Zelda."
She shook her head, determined to run herself down.
"But it was all a lie—it couldn't possibly have worked out, not in the long run…" She smacked his blade again, visibly upset. "How could I be so shortsighted?"
"You knew the risks, but you were determined to overcome them. You never gave up on anything."
"But to think I could fix him? To think I was stupid enough to—"
She gasped when Link knocked the sword from her hand, retreating until her back hit the nearby wall. In seconds he closed the space between them, his free hand pressed to the wall by her ear.
"I won't listen to this," he growled, his eyes boring into hers. "You are strong and committed, always have been. You tried to do the right thing, you learned from your mistakes, and you're better for it. If you can't trust yourself to know that, then trust me."
The air felt heavy between them, charged by some intense, unseen energy.
"I don't understand what I saw in him," Zelda whispered. "You were at my side all along, but I never saw you. Not like that…"
"You were very disciplined," Link murmured. "Determined to be faithful, always thinking of the greater good. I admired that… inconvenient as it was for me."
The sound of their breaths filled the silence, unusually loud in his ears.
"But I did see you in that way, eventually," she said softly. "And once I did… I could not look away."
Link held her gaze a moment longer, searching her beautiful, vulnerable face. A primal desire stirred deep within him, tempting him to pin her against the wall and kiss her savagely.
Instead he did so gently, pressing soft kisses across her slightly parted lips. She responded with intensity, her mouth moving hungrily with his as her hands slid up around his neck. Link dropped his sword and drew her against him, earning a soft, contented murmur.
The ecstasy of her consumed him, fogging his mind as he nuzzled her soft, warm skin and breathed her intoxicating scent. Her head fell back as he rained kisses down her neck, her fingers digging into his hair.
"I remember those nights we met in the library," she panted. "How easily I could talk to you… Oh, Link, I would have gone mad without you…"
He paused, lifting his head to meet her affectionate gaze. "You remember that…?"
She nodded, resting her hands where his neck and shoulders met. "I remember the first time we kissed, that night you told me about… Though you did not say how poorly I handled it, running away like I did…"
Link gave a short laugh. "You avoided me for days. Nearly drove me mad."
"Oh, I'd say you were completely mad, considering how you showed up on my balcony one night and scared me half to death."
Again he laughed, delighted to reminisce with her about their courtship.
"You pushed me to it," he defended. "I agonized over what happened, and I was desperate to see you again."
Zelda smiled at this, though it quickly faded as concern clouded her face.
"This must be agonizing for you now," she murmured, "waiting for all these memories to come back…"
"Don't worry about me," he soothed. "We move at your pace. I waited for you then, and I'll wait for you now." He brought a hand to her cheek, wishing she could sense his sincerity. "You are worth every second."
Her eyes shone in the moonlight, and Link thought he could feel her appreciation despite the barrier. Gently she took his face in her hands and pressed her lips to his, imitating the tenderness he had shown her. Link drew her close and deepened the kiss, feeling a warm, familiar peace settle back into his soul.