So I know that the BoTW sequel has been done, like, five thousand times, but here's my take on it. Inspired partly by works such as CM's One Last Year and Lyxie's Grief, go check them out - they're amazing. This is a pretty emotional piece, and I'm not sure exactly how long it will be (I have the general idea thought out but I'm bad at planning anything concrete) but you can expect two parts of probably roughly equal length. Part one from Link's point of view, and part two from Zelda's. Expect hiatuses. Oh, and, uh, I'm not including anything from the DLC, on account of not having played it. Heretical, I know. Someone actually got me it, but they kinda never told me and so the email got lost. So, until I do, no spoilers, please and thanks. I'll be using some of the characterization from AoC, but obviously it's not canon so none of the actual events.
Anyways, it's been, like, a long time since I shared any of my writing with anyone, and an even longer time still since I'd written anything of substantial length. So I figured I should get this out there since I think it's something I'm actually pretty proud of for once, at least so far. So without further ado, here's If Only, if you dare.
"Do you really remember me?"
Those words lingered, still, - haunted Link, more than any guardian or even Calamity Ganon ever could. How many months had he struggled, fought, pushed ever forward in the face of insurmountable evil for someone he did not truly remember? How many times had he looked Impa, or Purah, or Robbie, or Sidon, or King Dorephan, or the ghosts of the Champions and King Rhoam, and now the princess, in the eyes without the light of recognition in his own? And did Mipha, Daruk, Revali, and Urbosa see that? Did it hurt them to not get the closure they wanted from him? He would never know, and that thought hurt him the most - that his once friends, in their last moments seeing another being in this world, may have looked to him for something that he could not give them. He had recovered some memories since then, not including the ones the princess left for him, but they were more like memories of how they made him feel, rather than the actual events. Kind Mipha, who could always understand him; jovial Daruk, who could lighten any mood; confident Revali, who could always push Link to be his best; serious Urbosa, who could always comfort the princess even when he could not. They'd gone, and in their final moments, he had said nothing, had nothing to say. But at the very least, he had a chance to change that now, with the princess.
The princess.
He followed behind her, as he always had. After defeating Ganon, he offered her his horse Epona, and she accepted graciously. The sun shone lazily overhead, with nary a cloud in the sky, a light breeze dancing through the grass. Birds chirped in the trees, a gentle melody that floated through the wind, and if he paid enough attention, he could see lizards scurrying through the grass. It was almost impossible to believe that hours before, Mabe Prairie was teeming with guardians under a violent storm, fields ablaze. Yet a new storm was brewing inside him, ever growing, ever rising, but he pushed it down. As he always had.
The princess, to her credit, seemed absolutely serene. He marveled at her strength - she had spent one hundred years trapped with Calamity Ganon, and he had barely lasted an hour with it already weakened by the Divine Beasts. Not once since they had defeated Ganon had she shown any sign of weakness. She was the picture of grace, sitting tall on Epona, golden hair flowing down her back, occasionally humming some long-forgotten melody. They decided earlier that heading to Kakariko Village was the wisest course of action, and so they had set off in that direction, recently passing by the ruins of Mabe Village. The princess was still wearing the same prayer dress that she was on that final day, although somehow now it seemed to be in pristine condition, not caked in mud and his blood as it was before Link's "death". He hoped that Impa or Paya would have spare clothes, more suitable for traveling, that they could lend her. They walked in comfortable silence for a while, until Link volunteered to break it - a rare occasion, from what he was able to gather from his limited memories.
"If we keep this pace, we should arrive at the Wetland Stable by nightfall. From there it should be another day's travel to Kakariko," he said. "Provided the conditions on Sahasra Slope are fine." The princess nodded slightly.
"It will be good to see Impa again," she responded. "I saw her through you, a few times. It's hard to believe that she could become so frail - even if she is over a hundred years old."
"She's strong. And wise."
"Do you remember her much?" He shook his head instinctively, then realized that she could not actually see him.
"Scary," he offered. The princess chuckled. "Strict. But that's pretty much it."
"Is that true for... everyone?" There was a twinge of sadness in her voice, and he knew what she meant. He had not answered her the first time, for fear of disappointing her, but there was no avoiding it now. He sighed and looked skyward, but there were no memories to be found there, only three herons soaring through the afternoon sky.
"I remember some… feelings, I guess," he managed at last. "But beyond what you and the Champions left me, not much else." The princess betrayed nothing, and kept guiding Epona steadily. He could not bring himself to look at her.
"I see." Her voice came out as almost a whisper. Link opened his mouth, but he could say nothing. He kicked a rock in frustration, which skipped through the sea of grass before coming to rest at the foot of a grassland fox. Epona huffed at the sudden distraction, especially from her own friend who was normally so composed, and the princess reached out her hand to soothe the trusty steed. Epona neighed contentedly in response. The three fell into silence again, which would last until they reached the Wetland Stable at sunset.
Upon arriving, Link boarded Epona with Lawdon, and noticed that the princess stood a ways off from the stable, facing away from it towards Necluda. He could guess why, although he did not expect anyone to recognize her now, all these years later. Very few people had ever seen the princess, whether in a painting or in person, and even fewer still would have had surviving families. Yet even when hoping to be invisible, she still stood regally, head held high, hands clasped together below her waist. Perhaps some things were simply too hard to forget. This revelation surprised Link - that somehow, he still had a deeper, innate understanding of the princess than what he was able to consciously remember of her. His mind recalled her diary, and her demons that she laid bare in it. There was a part of him - the one that helped everyone he could - that wanted to reach out and comfort her, knowing how she felt, but the other part - the knight, the dutiful - fought back with guilt and shame for having violated her privacy thus. The knight won out, and Link reminded himself that his duty has always, and would always, lay where he was now - behind the princess. Content with this, or perhaps convincing himself to be content with this, Link distracted himself by inspecting the stable grounds. He did not see Ami and Izra, and assumed that they were inside the stable, preparing for bed. Yolero was not around either, and the corners of Link's mouth tugged upwards at the thought of Yolero practicing with his "Master Torch". Link wondered how Yolero would react to knowing that the real Master Sword had been right in front of him so many times. The sharp sound of Quince's Hylian retriever barking at something around the back of the stable pierced through the twilight.
"Say, the weather's really cleared up," Lawdon said, still focused on his paperwork. He lifted his gaze west towards Hyrule Castle. "And there's none of that awful malice 'round the castle anymore, either. You wouldn't happen to know why, would you?" Link glanced at the princess out of the corner of his eye, who seemed to shift her weight uncomfortably.
"Not really, no," he shrugged meekly, to which he could hear the princess breathed a sigh of relief.
"Well, whatever the case, I'm glad. Hopefully that means we'll be seeing less monsters 'round here." Lawdon set his pen down. "You're all set. One Epona boarded." Link nodded, and headed inside the stable. He peered into his rupee pouch - he did not have very many rupees left after he had bought some ancient arrows and an ancient spear from Robbie three days earlier - and decided to budget a little. He purchased a few bundles of arrows from the ever-enthusiastic Beedle (who was, as always, at whatever stable Link was, which still mystified him how) - even though Calamity Ganon had been defeated, Link still expected there to be groups of Yiga and monsters roaming the wilderness. Along with that went two beds for the night, a normal one for himself and a soft one for the princess. The princess, having just walked in, eyed his bed, then turned her unflinching gaze towards Link.
"Link," she began slowly, deliberately - he stiffened his back, as if he somehow recognized that tone and knew what would come next - "are you short on rupees?"
"No - well - yeah," he stammered. "But it's fine, really. I'm used to it. Sleeping on the forest floor and all." The princess, seeming thoroughly unconvinced, raised an eyebrow. Just that struck more fear into him than a lynel ever could. She turned to Lawdon, who had been following this exchange intently from behind the counter.
"I will be fine with a normal bed." There was an intense aura of authority about her in that moment, and Lawdon complied without a word. He returned a red rupee to Link, who was very glad that the ordeal was over with.
"Dinner?" He did not know the extent to which Hylia's powers sustained the princess now, if she even needed to eat or sleep. But he himself was starving and bordering on exhaustion after his struggle against Ganon. The princess did not say anything but strode towards the cooking pot, and Link followed suit. He whipped up a meat stew with some fresh milk, Tabantha wheat, goat butter, and the last of his raw meat. If nothing else, Link's travels had made him an excellent cook, which was definitely one of the only good parts about having survived largely on his own. For how long, he did not know - after a certain point, the days all started to blend together. The savory aroma wafted through the dusk air, and within seconds, Quince's Hylian retriever found its way to the cooking pot and started circling around it, tail wagging excitedly. The princess's eyes followed it, and a smile tugged at her lips at its antics. Despite this, Link wolfed down his portion. Ordinarily, he would have saved some for the dog, but he was simply too hungry, and he knew that Quince had likely already fed it. The princess offered her bowl, and the retriever lapped it up without a second thought. Link raised his eyebrows at this, mostly out of concern for the princess.
"I'm not hungry," the princess reassured Link. "But it smells amazing," she added quickly.
"Hylia?" Just a word, but it got the point across. The princess looked down and played with her loftwing necklace.
"I can still feel her, inside of me. But she's fading, slowly."
"She'll always be with you. It'll work out in the end. You can do anything, you know. With or without her." He had taken that directly from the princess' diary. Her eyes widened, and Link regretted the words almost as soon as they came out of his mouth. His mind started racing - would the princess know that he had read her diary? He knew that she could see through his eyes while she was trapped with Calamity Ganon, but not when or how much.
Well, that's it. His fingers twitched, and he tried to keep his face as neutral as possible to not give away his franticness. If that look she gave him before was of a lynel, the dread he felt now could be compared to his final battle against Calamity Ganon. You just let slip that you read the princess of Hyrule's diary. Idiot.
"My mother used to tell me that," the princess smiled at the memory, but it did not reach her emerald eyes. "That it would all be well in the end, and that I could do anything." Link let out a breath that he did not realize he had been holding.
"She was right. We wouldn't be here without you." Link searched her eyes, but they were empty. Her smile faded from her lips, and was replaced by a sullenness that he had seldom seen before.
"No, you wouldn't." She raised her head towards the sky, her voice like a ghost in the wind. "You would have had a real princess, one who would have awoken her powers before it was too late. Who wouldn't have let her friends die." She stood up shakily, and started walking into the stable. Link shot up and reached out towards her, but he faltered and pulled his hand back.
"That's not - "
The princess' figure cast a shadow over Link, the firelight from the stable forming an eerie outline around her.
"Goodnight, Link."