Group therapy.

The white witches of Ancient Termina.

Hazen stared at her, struck speechless at her words. But it was the truth. She'd seen it with her own eyes.

"How . . . how do you know?"

Irene smiled a bit, looking down. "For the longest time, the white witches were the most powerful beings in the land--in any land," she corrected herself. "We came to power in Ancient Termina, and it was there that we stayed for thousands of years. What brought us down wasn't poverty, or famine, revolt. It was violence, and chaos."

Her voice had gone dark. She lifted her head, finding her audience's attention rapt upon her. "There were many powerful entities in Ancient Termina. It was a land filled with power and magic. Even what we saw was only a fragment of the original. There were warriors that carried worlds in their hands, creatures that spoke the tongues of man, gods that walked among men, and entities of the purest powers in the world. Powers of creation, powers of destruction . . . and those that kept the balance. The white witches."

"Wars were common. All relied on the witches to keep the peace, and for a while, it worked. But there was one entity that reveled in destruction, in reaping chaos and sowing violence. It searched constantly for an excuse to battle, and one day, another of equal power came to meet it."

"The battle was long and hard. It seemed to go on forever, but ultimately, the witches came to return the balance. The entities were sent away, that god of chaos stripped of its physical form and laid to rest in a cave, deep in the mountains. For years it rested there, in the dark," Irene said, and her voice sent chills down Hazen's spine. "Peace reigned in Termina . . . for a time."

"The witches knew better than anyone that there is a time for everything," she said. "And they knew that the god of destruction was reaching its time once more. Tribes had entered the mountains, enticed by legends of chaos embodied. They used the god in their rituals, worshipped it like a deity. But they didn't realize the god's power, even subdued as it was."

"It slaughtered the tribes," Irene murmured. "Fueled by their sacrifice, the god of destruction flew to its greatest enemy, to wipe their stain from the land permanently."

Hazen's breath left his lungs. "Goddesses, Irene . . ."

"With the witches out of the way, there was nothing to stop the god of destruction," Irene said, raising her voice to a strong, clear tone. "Nothing but one other entity, one other being strong enough to pose a threat."

"The battle was long, lasting many days. Mountains cleaved with the swing of the sword, earthquakes rumbled with each clash. It took everything that fierce deity had to subdue the god of destruction, whom it had dubbed 'Majora'. When it was done, nothing remained but two masks, one the face of brightly painted lunacy, the other a face of stark power behind sightless eyes."

It seemed to be the end of the story. Hazen let out a breath, watching her closely. "Is that what you were doing?" he asked softly. "Sitting out here, all this time?"

He knew her too well. "I . . . needed time," Irene admitted. "A lot happened. I . . . I needed to find some--some reason. Some explanation for all this. Simple hatred, revenge . . . it's not enough. It can't be all Majora is after."

"From the story, it sure sounds like it is," Tessen said, rubbing his face with a sigh. He peeked at Irene through his fingers. "So? Is that it?"

She shifted uncomfortably. "There's more."

"Good news, I hope," Saval said, laying down on the ground.

"As if we're that lucky," Tessen muttered.

Irene took a breath. "We're running on limited time," she said. "The timeline is breaking again, for the same reason. Too much jumping, things being where they're not supposed to be--us, Majora--it's tearing the stream apart. We have to find Majora and put him back down before it crumbles too much."

"Irene," Hazen said. "What do you mean, 'too much'?"

She swallowed. "If it falls apart enough, there won't be any putting it back together. We have to get moving now if we want to save reality."

"What do you think we can do?" Saval asked, a hint of anger in her voice. She sat up, fixing the group with a narrow glare. "We're hardly fighting fit right now. And how are we even supposed to get to Majora in the first place?"

"I can get us there."

Everyone turned to Irene again. "That's another thing," she explained, somewhat bashfully. "I--well, Zelda was training me, and we heard about an earthquake in Kakariko Gorge. Except it wasn't a normal earthquake."

"You mean it's Majora?" Hazen demanded.

Irene nodded gravely. "It's already caused damage in your Hyrule. After the earthquake, Zelda and I went to Volvagia's Landing to check up on the fort, and that's when we saw--"

"Saw what?"

"It's easier if I show you," she muttered. Holding her hands palms up, she focused her power.

She hadn't called on her magic since Majora had trapped her in that dome . . . since she'd seen those visions. Irene breathed in deep. Focus. Don't think about that now.

She called up the visions she needed and projected them outward. She heard the gasps of her friends as they saw it--saw the blackened burnmark on the side of the Gorge, Maora's face staring out over Hyrule Field. Like a brand.

She let the image dissipate, but not before showing the earth erupting, the Stalfos climbing from the rift, Irene's storm. She let out a breath as the image faded, and opened her eyes to everyone staring at her. Again.

Irene resisted the urge to shift uncomfortably. "What? It's new to me, too."

Hazen surprised her by laughing. "Whether it's making wind bridges or creating storms, it's amazing either way," he said, and his smile made her stomach flip.

Irene took her eyes away. She couldn't fous when he looked at her like that. And they still had a lot to do. "So. Majora has made his move. We need to make ours." She narrowed her eyes at the three of them. "So figure it out."

Saval jerked, Tessen shifted his eyes away, and Hazen conspicuously cleared his throat. "I'm next, I suppose," he said, trying to sound light.

It was in stark contrast to his suddenly pale complexion. He took a few breaths, but when he spoke, his voice wasn't any stronger for them. "I was . . . time-hopping, I suppose. Jumping from day to day to day, seeing--seeing things from a different perspective," he hedged. His throat bobbed. "Seeing . . . the war from a different perspective."

Gasps sounded all around. "What are you talking about?"

"The war?"

Irene stared at him, stricken. Then he--he saw . . .

She hadn't seen much at all. But those flashes she'd gotten, the last night there, sitting on the cliff with Zelda and offering her . . .

I appreciate your concern. But these are not memories visited lightly. I would not burden one so young with their weight.

She'd rejected Irene's offer of help to spare her the horror, the trauma she obviously carried. And now her son had seen it all firsthand?

She swallowed tightly and forced herself to listen to him.

"I'd always wanted to know what it was like. Why she refused to let anyone in, why she refused to let me in. And I guess now I know why."

He tried for a laugh, but it came out broken. His eyes were bright. "There was a lot," he said, his voice hoarse. "She didn't tell us a lot of things. Like how she almost died in the Battle of the Skies, or the way Urbosa died. Or Aunt Mipha, Revali, Daruk--"

His voice broke. Hazen swallowed a few times, and when he spoke his voice was a whisper. "She almost died so many times. All those details she left out, they were all because it was about this time she was stabbed, or that time Link was almost killed by a Lynel, or when they were running from the fires and the slaughter in Termina--"

Another gasp, sharp and pained, from Saval. She'd clapped her hands over her mouth, her eyes filling with tears. Hazen continued as if he hadn't heard her, his voice rising with every word.

"I saw Aunt Lulu and Uncle Mikau die, I watched Aunt Tetra flee the castle when Ganondorf's army reached Castle Town, I saw Rauru get torn apart in the Temple, I saw Lady Marin be tortured and starved and Captain Keeta ripped to pieces and my mother--"

Hazen broke off in a hoarse, broken laugh. He bent over, his hands clamping over his head. "My mother . . . how many times did I see her almost die? In the avalanche on Snowpeak, when Fire Mountain erupted, in the castle even! And that's before the war even started!"

He suddenly lurched upright. "That's not counting during the Battle on the Water, or in the Skies, or when one of her own soldiers attacked her, or in the fields at night, or searching for Dark, or when she was stabbed--"

"She was stabbed?'' Tessen asked sharply, almost without thinking. It made Hazen stop short and turn to his best friend.

"Yes. She was stabbed. Straight through the heart--by my father."

Tessen's face went bone-white. "W-what?"

Saval was silent, staring at Hazen in horror.

But Hazen wasn't finished. He stared up at the sky, at the sun which beat down brightly on them as if nothing was wrong. "But you know what? I can't even blame him. I don't know what I would have done. I don't know if I would have had the guts to do what he did."

"What are you talking about?" Saval whispered, her intake of breath sharp.

"It was the only way to end it."

Screaming, bodies littering the snow like freshly dug graves.

"She couldn't see another way out, and she was willing to give up everything."

Everything I had, everything I was.

"In her eyes, it was a fair trade."

"A fair trade? Fair trade forwhat?"

I thought if it took Ganondorf from this world, then at least that was something.

"At least others could live, even if I didn't," Irene murmured, her face warmed by the tears that fell. She closed her eyes, hating the world Zelda had given her life for and everything it had thrown back in her face. Hating that her son had had to see that--something no one should ever have to witness. If she'd been faced with the same, if she'd seen her parents dying before her eyes, and be helpless to stop it . . .

Well. She'd come close enough, hadn't she?

The thought had her biting her lip hard, and the words were out before she could stop them.

"I know how you feel."

But did she want to stop them, really?

Hazen looked up, his face streaked the same as hers.

Could she truly say they had slipped out?

Her eyes burned so hot, but she forced herself to look through the blurred vision and find him, the one who forced her to see herself again and again without even trying, the one who made her strong and weak at once, the one she was in love with--

Can you really say you didn't want to tell him?

Her vision cleared and filled with him, and suddenly he was everywhere. His hands on her face, his eyes looking so deep into hers she swore he could see all of her. She let him--pulled him in by his shirt lapels. Lowered her head as her screams rose up, engulfing her in the scent of him, in the anguish in her heart.

"She's gone," she heard herself whisper. "Gods, she's gone."

Over and over again, until even that was too much. Her throat closed, barring the rest of it from ever coming out, and she clutched him harder for it. His hands came up, bringing her face to his shoulder, and his arms pulled her into his lap. She buried her face into his tunic, feeling him rock them back and forth, her breaths short and sharp and goddesses, she was really gone!

Gram . . . her Gram wasn't there anymore. There was no home to go back to--it was a pile of ash now, blown away by the wind. There were no more hunts in the forest for mushrooms, no more lessons in spellcraft by the fire, no more homemade soup or potions or yelling at the local hero--

It was gone. She was gone.

She didn't know how long she sat there, in Hazen's lap, repeating the words to herself. Over and over and over again, as if she could ever get used to them. Her home was burned, her family--the last piece of herself. Who was she now? Who--who could she be, without them?

Eventually she had no more tears to cry, and when Hazen couldn't keep it in any longer, it was her turn to hold him, and while he screamed and cried and asked why, she tried to answer him. Tried to answer herself.

She couldn't find an answer for a while. But when the screaming started again, this time behind her, those two voices who she knew so well already echoed in her mind. Again and again. They called out to her, begging her to hear them. And when she did, when she turned her ear to them, when she looked at them and saw their tears, their heartbreak and anguish, she listened. She watched.

"How could you keep that from me?! From us?! You were supposed to trust us, damn it!"

"How?! You saw the visions, do you really think I could have said anything?"

"What about you? Do you really think no one would believe the three of us together? Goddesses damn it, Saval! We're a family! We would have died defending you!"

A family.

"I never wanted to marry him! I--I was angry, and hurt, and we weren't talking anymore--"

"So you decided to just sell yourself to a bastard like Silvas?"

"I was a child--"

"So was I! But I never thought--I never expected you to--"

Saval followed after him, on her knees. "To what? To what? To give myself to someone--someone who put on such a kind face? To turn to soft words and a smile when I needed one? By the Goddesses' blood, Tessen! I needed someone like him!"

He ripped away from her touch, and it only made her cry harder. "I'm going to kill him. I'm going to kill that bastard for what he did to you--"

Irene lifted her head, wiping her eyes. Hazen had stopped crying too, and now watched the argument in front of them. "What are you guys talking ab . . . out . . ."

"Saval," Hazen whispered, his voice breaking with fresh pain.

The princess of Twilight just turned her head away, her hands coming up to grasp her arms. She'd removed her shirt, leaving her in only her chest wrap, exposing the skin of her stomach and back. She trembled under their gazes, her own eyes following Tessen, who paced, unable to stay still.

"Who . . . who did this to you?" Irene breathed, her shock like a strike to the chest, her anger like a double-edged knife. My family.

"Tessen," Saval pleaded, voice cracking.

Her skin was marbled, a canvas of years of abuse. Scars stretched over the smooth skin, disappearing beneath her hair, beneath the wrap and the waistband of her pants. Her arms had been left untouched, and her chest . . . for the most part. The only place that hadn't been scarred was . . .

Irene lifted a hand to Saval's face. The girl flinched, her eyes closing as tears fell. "Is that why?" Irene whispered. "When you were burned? Is this why you were so upset?"

My family.

Saval sucked in a breath and opened her eyes. "He needed me to look whole," she said. "Marking me where people could see didn't give that impression."

Marking me where . . . Irene shifted Saval's hair, and had to look away, her eyes scalding. She looked back when her vision had cleared, and brushed her fingers over the crescent moons, pale white against her skin. The bites that had left permanent evidence on her skin. The markings.

You are mine.

"Goddesses," Irene cried, her hands shaking. "How--how did this--"

"It was after a fight," Saval sobbed, her voice hoarse. "Tessen and I--we said some things, and I was so angry, and hurt, so I--I told my mother I wanted to get married. So she made a deal with the duke so I would marry his son, and--a-after what happened with Tessen, he was exactly what I needed. Soft, and kind, and--he always said what I wanted to hear. But after we exchanged rings, he--he--"

She broke down, her face in her hands. "He changed," Hazen said, the disgust and pain and sorrow in his voice so clear. "He abused you and made you afraid to tell anyone. Even your mother."

"I tried!" Saval insisted. "I swear I did, I just--I just . . ."

"It's okay," Irene whispered, pulling her in. "It's okay. We know. It's not your fault. It's not your fault."

Saval shook her head but didn't speak. Irene met Hazen's gaze through her blurry one, and when he knelt beside them, he wrapped his arms around them both, and she pressed her forehead to his.

My family.

But someone was missing.

His footsteps sounded in the warm grass, and his knees fell to the green carpet. He raised a hand to Saval, who lifted her head, and the tears in his eyes sparkled in the sunlight.

"How could you think I wouldn't fight for you?" he whispered. "To my dying breath, I would have . . ."

"I'm sorry," Saval cried. "Please, Tessen, I'm so sorry."

"Sav . . ."

Irene and Hazen released her, and she tumbled right into Tessen's embrace, clutching him like he was her only lifeline. She gasped out apologies in between sobs, her hands fisting in his shirt, and he murmured back that it wasn't her fault, it wasn't her fault, it wasn't her fault.

My family.

This is what I am now. This is what I'm here for. To protect this, to have this . . . to have them.

I won't fail them.

I promise, Gram.

I promise.

It was midnight when Zelda and Link finally peeked out the door. The four were quiet, but they'd been so for a while now.

Link had had to stay with her while the children told their stories. And when she'd peeked out the window and saw Saval, heard her . . . Link had to physically restrain Zelda. She'd fallen against the doorframe, shaking in his hold.

Now, she was silent, peering around the doorjamb. The night was cool and quiet, like a balm to the four fractured people sprawled out on the lawn. Zelda took a few steps onto the grass, worrying they might have been attacked and she just hadn't heard it--

But no. She let out a little laugh, leaning against the side of the house. The four of them were fast asleep, curled up into one another in a pile of tangled limbs. Tessen's arm wound around Saval's waist, her legs tangled with Irene's, who was half on top of Hazen, whose head brushed his best friend's--their hair, silver and gold, mixing in the cool green grass. Irene's mouth was slightly open, her head turned into the young prince's chest. At some point she'd removed her boots and socks, and now her bare feet stuck toes-up into the air. Beside her, squashed between Irene and Tessen as if to protect her, Saval lay spread-eagled, her fingers tickling Irene's face. Beneath her head, Zelda was sure Tessen's arm had gone numb. She knew he'd never have moved it anyway.

She felt a smile pulling at her lips and let it lift as footsteps came up behind her. Link's arms wound around her waist, his hands brushing over the bump that was steadily growing. "Look at them," she whispered, so as not to wake them. "That's probably their first good night's sleep in a long while."

"They deserve it," Link replied, kissing the side of her head. "They'll need much more of it, in the days to come."

That was sobering. He felt Zelda's body gain some tension. "You feel it too, then."

"Death Mountain is rumbling again. I talked with Teba the other day, he told me that there are talks of closing the roads to Rito Village." He sighed. "Everyone feels it."

Indeed. Zelda closed her hands over his. She could feel it, deep in her gut . . . it was a familiar feeling. One of days spent in fear, waiting for an enemy that need not even show its face to make a kingdom cower. Over a hundred years had passed, and yet that feeling was as strong as ever.

But this was not Calamity Ganon. This was an altogether different breed of violence.

Once again, her eyes landed on the tumble of shapes in the yard. Link felt his wife's shoulders rise in a shallow breath, and knew what she would say before she opened her mouth.

"Me too."

"They need a lot of it," Zelda said anyway. "And we might not be able to provide much, but I can at least give them a breath of fresh air. Some peace."

Link's hands turned her so she was facing him. He pressed his lips to her forehead, pulling her close. "What do you need me to do?"

Hazen blinked tired eyes open, feeling them narrow in confusion almost immediately.

He sat up, dislodging a blanket spread over him. The sun was shining brightly, but from behind what looked like a bunch of blankets, stretching over them and supported by poles. It was a small space, barely big enough to house the four of them comfortably, but it was cozy, and, well--well, there was something childishly simple about it. He felt like a kid again.

It brought a smile to Hazen's face, and as he moved to stand up, a small sound at his feet made him look down. A cat had curled up on the end of his blanket, blinking green eyes at him and yawning, and he winced a bit. "Sorry," he said to the cat, then pushed through the tent-fort flaps into bright sunlight.

Shading his eyes, he followed the sounds of voices to the middle of the yard, where he smacked his shin into a hard wooden surface. "Ow!"

"You're supposed to sit at tables, not walk into them," a familiar voice said, and he looked up from his smarting leg into a pair of beautiful amber eyes--eyes that were shining again.

"Saval," Hazen said, breaking into a smile. He wrapped her in a hug, and when he pulled back, he could see she'd returned it. It made her face so much brighter. "How are you feeling?"

"Better," she admitted. "Now that I've finally . . . spoken about it, it's easier."

Hazen slung an arm around her shoulders and pulled her in. "Little steps, little sister," he said quietly, and she gave a soft laugh at his old pet name for her.

"Hazen!"

He turned, letting Saval return to her task--setting the table?--and saw Link, jogging across the yard. "Good to see you up," Link said, clapping the prince's shoulder. "We've got some things to catch you up on."

"Yeah--how long was I asleep?" Hazen asked, only half-joking.

Link laughed. "A lot can happen in a few hours. After seeing you guys last night, Zel and I decided to give you a few days off. Take some time to relax, come to terms, remember what's important."

Hazen stared at him. "R-relax? I'm sorry, Link, we don't have that kind of time. Majora--"

"Isn't here yet, slow down," Link interrupted, soft but firm. "Hazen, listen to me. You've been in the thick of it for weeks now. When was the last time you relaxed? I mean really, genuinely weren't worried about anything?"

The last time . . . Hazen made a vague gesture to their surroundings. "Probably when we were here last."

Link nodded. "That was over two months ago, Hazen. It's not healthy to be so wound up for so long. You've got to take some time off."

But--but there was so much to worry about. Majora could strike at any moment, the timeline was literally crumbling--how could he just sit back and have a picnic?

Link must have seen the doubt, because he said, "Take it from someone who thought the world would come crashing down every possible moment. Listen, kid--the end of days isn't as imminent as you think. These things take time--learn to take yours."

Hazen opened his mouth to argue, but . . . Link had a point. The Calamity could have broken loose at any time--but the Hero had managed to defeat it, and even take the time he needed, too.

Okay. Hazen could relax.

He took a deep breath just to prove it, and gave Link his most convincing smile. Link just chuckled and guided him inside the house, where music was playing and people were laughing and . . . clapping?

He ducked inside and let out a surprised chuckle, watching the scene before him. The kitchen was packed with people clapping, a trio of musicians played in the corner, and two people danced in the space in the middle, stumbling over their steps and barely in sync, but . . .

Tessen extended his arm with a laugh, and Irene spun out, her smile bright on her face. She came back to his reach and he twirled them around a few times, tripping over each other's feet. As they passed the table, Tessen reached between two cheering villagers and grabbed a pastry.

Irene leaned in and took a bite out, getting powdered sugar on her nose, and Tessen missed his mouth completely due to the wild dance. He stumbled and dropped the pastry, and Irene shouted a warning, barely staying on their feet. They took one look at each other and burst into laughter, and as the violin and small drum and clapping rose into a climax, he spun her one last time, and then they nearly tripped to a stop.

Irene hadn't noticed Hazen yet. Her eyes were so bright, and her smile . . . Had he ever seen her smile like that? She leaned against his best friend for balance while she caught her breath, and her mouth moved in words he couldn't hear over the cheering and clapping. Tessen laughed, though, and his hands left her shoulders to pour them a drink.

No, Hazen thought, he'd never seen her smile like that. So carefree, so absorbed in the moment, in the breathless release of her dance. Of her laughing.

He supposed he ought to be a bit sad. That in all the time she'd spent with him, she'd never once smiled that way. But all he could feel was a calm sort of happiness--like a small light inside him, warming him to his bones. He felt a smile curl his lips, leaning on the doorframe, and then she looked over.

She was wearing white today. A simple dress Link had brought back from his visit to Kakariko yesterday. It made her eyes stand out, made the flush on her face just a bit brighter. Her chest rose and fell in quick breaths, and Hazen looked back up to her eyes in time to see her throat bob.

Her smile had faded a bit. Hazen didn't move, even as his own smile softened. The party went on around her, Tessen hadn't returned yet with the drinks, and Hazen didn't want to move. Didn't want this small moment to be over just yet. Just . . .

Just let me see her like this a bit longer. Just a bit . . .

Irene drew in a breath, and then her shoulders lowered, and her smile returned.

Tessen tapped her shoulder, and she turned away, accepting his drink.

Hazen breathed out a bit sharply. How unfair. He'd been content with viewing it at a distance . . . to have it turned on him full-force . . .

Tessen turned, meeting Hazen's gaze, and tipped a wink.

Hazen scowled. Not helping.

His best friend's snicker told him he wasn't trying to. Hazen sighed, leaving the door frame to stand beneath the loft, where Link and Bolson were speaking with a couple villagers Hazen didn't know.

Link had been traveling often in the last week. He'd been using a mix of horseback and warping by Shrines, and sometimes bore tightly wrapped packages, but he never said anything about them, or what he was traveling so often for. Zelda was no help, either--just smiled and told them to relax, or shoved a pastry into Tessen's mouth.

It was hard to relax. The knowledge that the timeline was falling apart never left his mind, and though the events that Link and Zelda had planned helped, they all knew it was just filler. Sooner or later, they'd have to turn around and face the issue.

Link's Slate went off, and he pulled it free of his belt. "Kakariko calls," he said, smiling. "I'll be back in a bit."

"Don't work too hard!" Bolson called with a lilt in his voice, raising his glass. Link gave a sarcastic sort of smile over his shoulder, as if saying, Yeah right. He left the house, and Hazen offered a smile to the others, then left the conversation. He wandered the yard, and then the town, finding nothing to focus his energy on.

He was restless. He passed the inn and heard a horse snort. Debating for a second, he dropped a couple coins in the abandoned tin and took the stallion. He was already saddled, so Hazen leapt into the saddle and left the village at a soft trot.

Passing under the gate, he abruptly remembered the first time he'd seen this place. He and Tessen had made fun of the gate-frame with no actual gate. Hazen huffed a laugh, watching the ground pass under him. They'd changed a lot since then.

The sky was bright above him. The air was warm, the sounds of Hateno's forests around it lively and comforting. He rode for a few miles, and by the time he returned to the village, the sun was on its way down. Hazen galloped into the town, nodding to the villagers milling around. He left the horse in the stable and made his way to Link's house, ducking through the tent flap. The cat was gone, but his bag was in the same place. He knelt down and began rifling through it.

"Come on, come on, where is it," he muttered. The tent rustled behind him right before whoever stepped inside tripped over his ankle. They fell with a shout, landing smack on top of Hazen, and he was flattened to the ground with a grunt.

"Sorry!"

It was Irene's voice. She rolled off him, getting to her feet, and extended a hand to Hazen. He took it with a grimace, but it faded when he saw her face. She was blushing, looking down, and Hazen had to fight a smile despite his heart suddenly pounding.

Irene looked up, rubbing her arm. "Sorry for squashing you," she said, her lips curving up slightly.

"It's okay," Hazen said, and then they were silent again. He could feel his face burning, and he wanted to say something, or touch her--gods, he wanted so badly to touch her--but she jerked forward, laughing awkwardly. "I just needed to grab something--"

"Right, yeah, sorry--"

Their gazes met, and after a moment, Irene coughed and took a step, and Hazen stepped out of her way, his hand raising in a half-hearted gesture. But his foot caught in the blanket, and he lurched forward to avoid falling--and crashed right into Irene.

They fell to the ground, again, and when he opened his eyes, Irene was inches away.

Hazen's breath shorted out. Her blue hair fell in a curtain around her, her eyes were sparkling, her face was flushed--and her chest was pressing into his, offering him a view down her dress. Her low-cut dress.

Face flaming, Hazen sat up, tripping over his tongue in his haste to apologize. As he did so, he nearly sent Irene flying off him, and her hands dug into his shoulders to stay upright. "Woah!" she gasped, her legs tightening on either side of him.

Hazen couldn't breathe. When she looked at him this close, practically sitting in his lap . . . his hand tightened on her hips, and he felt her tense up. His other hand slid up to her neck, and he swallowed hard.

She was looking at him the way she had that night in Stone Tower. Hazen's chest hitched as he pulled her in, and her fingers slid into his hair. Her breath ghosted across his lips and he arched up to meet her--

"Hazen! Link is looking for--whoops."

Hazen and Irene jerked apart as Tessen grimaced. "Ah . . . sorry. Didn't mean to interrupt anything."

Irene's hands fell from Hazen's shoulders and landed on her legs, on either side of his hips. Hazen closed his eyes, wishing with all his heart that Tessen would leave, but the damage was already done. He cleared his throat softly, and at the sound, Irene rose from his lap and left the tent. Hazen watched her go mournfully as Saval grabbed her arm and leaned in close to whisper in her ear, and when they were gone, he turned a glare on Tessen, who was grinning like the ass he was.

"Your timing sucks."

"I might say it's improving. Who knows what you might have done if I hadn't nobly interrupted."

"Oh, shut up."

Tessen snickered, lifting Hazen to his feet and leading him outside. The table from earlier was fully set, crossing nearly the whole lawn, and everyone was gathering around it. He cast his gaze around, searching for Irene, and found her leaving the house, a steaming pot held carefully in her hands. She was laughing at something Saval said, walking beside her.

Hazen swallowed and tore his gaze away, instead forcing himself to greet Bolson again.

It seemed Link and Zelda had planned a party of sorts, and it felt like the whole village was there. Children ran around haphazardly, and conversation filled the warm air. Hazen found himself drawn into Bolson's chatter about his housing developments, and when they finally sat down, he was laughing at the man's similarities to the Bolson he knew.

"You know, there's a Bolson where I'm from," he told the construction head. "He actually rebuilt my mother's castle."

Bolson looked shocked. "Well! I do hope you will allow me a similar honor, Your Highness!" he said to Zelda, who laughed.

"We'll see," Link answered with a grin, setting a pitcher of tea on the table.

Dinner began soon after, and Hazen, to his own surprise, was able to forget about Majora and the timeline, finding himself more relaxed than he'd felt in a long, long time. He laughed with Elder Reede and discussed the harvest with Uma, learned that Sahasrahla was riding around the country studying and writing--he even had his own house in Kakariko Village--and argued over the advantages of scimitars over farming hoes, and when Tessen sling-shotted a spoonful of potatoes at him, he returned the favor with a grin.

Soon darkness had fallen, and Link went around the table to pull Zelda to her feet. She did so with a bashful smile, her hand resting on the belly that was just beginning to show, and let him spin her around the space in the yard beside the table. The crowd cheered softly, some even clapping, and Elder Uma even whistled. Link turned Zelda under his arm, his eyes never leaving hers and his smile never fading, and Hazen found himself matching it. He leaned back in his chair, nursing a glass of tea, and in the corner of his eye, he saw a girl in glowing white watching the couple, her eyes tracking them softly.

She looked far away. He couldn't guess what she was thinking, but the expression in her eyes seemed familiar. A bit of prodding, and he remembered where he'd seen it. She'd looked like that at the pond, a few days ago now.

Love helps.

Hazen's lips parted, and his chest shuddered. Was she . . . ?

Then he shook his head. It didn't matter. An inexplicable sense of sorrow invaded his heart at the thought, and he pushed it down savagely. Even so, he found himself unable to think about much else, and even when the party ended around an hour later and it was just them left in the yard, he still hadn't managed to forget about it. He caught himself stealing glances at her while they cleared the table, though he forced himself to focus when Zelda exited the house, laden with packages.

Hazen lifted a brow. "Are these the mysterious deliveries we've been seeing these past few days?"

Link leveled a look at him. "Sit down and find out."

Rolling his eyes, Hazen sat beside Tessen and stifled a laugh. Zelda set the packages down carefully, and there was a tinkling sound. Saval cocked her head curiously.

"Now," Zelda said. "You four have been through so much already. And there is still much to do. Here, in this time, Link and I . . . we may not be able to do much for you."

Her voice began to waver, and Hazen felt his smile fade a bit. "Zelda, you don't . . ."

She shook her head. Her eyes were bright in the firelight, and she smiled a bit when she said, "You four have become precious to us. We want to do all we can to protect you. To help you. And even if it's something simple, well . . . I couldn't just send you off without at least trying."

She tore the paper from the packages gently apart, and Hazen saw that beneath the paper were four piles of . . .

"Clothes?" Tessen asked.

Link spoke now. "You've been scraping by thus far. Borrowing other people's clothes--and we don't mind it, truly, but . . . we want you to have something for yourselves when you leave. And, well . . ." He smiled softly now, almost apologetically, as Zelda's tears broke free despite her smile. "I suppose we want you to remember us, too."

Saval was crying. "We could never forget you!" she said, rushing forward. She embraced Zelda over the table, and Hazen and the others went with her, looking through the piles of clothing.

Zelda broke away gently, gesturing to them. "We had the Sheikah make some special articles for you, and they're custom made for each of you."

Hazen lifted the dark blue tunic, finding his own royal crest embroidered in bright gold thread on the breast. He felt inexplicably honored to hold it, and felt as though he could see the effort that went into each stitch. He looked through the rest of the pile, finding dark pants with a belt, black leather boots, and leather shoulder armor and a vambrace. He huffed a small laugh, meeting Zelda's gaze. "This is amazing. Th-thank you both, so much!"

She embraced him across the table, and then shooed him away, her voice brisk. "Put it on, then, let's see how it fits."

"Here, Hazen," Irene called. She waved her hand in a circular movement, and then the yard disappeared from his vision in a white mist. "It's a privacy spell," Irene called. "We can't see you, so you can go ahead."

For some reason that made Hazen blush, so he snarled silently to himself and started undressing. He half wished she'd be able to see him.

"Where were these when we were pissing in the woods?" Tessen grumbled. Irene didn't deign to answer that one.

Hazen could hear Zelda and Link laughing, and as he pulled the belt tight, strapped the armor to his shoulder and fitted the vambrace over his right arm, he stepped out of the mist. A few tendrils curled over his cheek before fading, and he turned his head to see Irene looking away, a faint dusting of pink on her ears. Hazen squashed a smile.

Returning to the table, he found Tessen and Saval stepping out of their own privacy spells in their new gear. Saval was biting back tears once again, though she held her head high. "It's perfect," she said to Zelda, who clapped her hands over her mouth.

The white top covered Saval's chest and exposed her stomach, laying bare the years of suffering she'd experienced. Her black pants hung low on her hips and disappeared into short black boots, and her bow--the actual Twilight Bow from ancient times--hung from a belt that strapped around her waist, right beside her quiver, resting against her back. A black and gold sash wound its way around her waist.

"I'd had it made before I knew what happened," Zelda said quietly, straightening the belt.

"I think it fits me better now than ever," Saval responded, and the strength in her voice made Hazen's knees weak. Looking at Tessen, who was watching her with eyes shining with love, he knew his best friend felt it too. "I'm not afraid of that bastard anymore. And I won't be ashamed of what he did to me."

Pride surged through Hazen, and he suddenly found he couldn't look at her anymore. She was simply too bright. He shifted his gaze to his best friend instead.

Tessen was wearing a dark green tunic and white undershirt, new brown pants and boots, and a dark gray cloak. When he turned, Hazen saw it was embroidered in bright white thread with the Sheikah eye, the Wingcrest encasing the Triforce below it, and an ancient script in Sheikah stretched in vertical lines around the design. He didn't know what they said, but as Link showed the Slate's screen to Tessen and he swallowed, Hazen knew it was something meaningful.

Last was Irene. She was speaking with Zelda.

"I know you have your uniform, but this is here if you still want it," she was saying. Irene took her hand, smiling so softly it took Hazen's breath away, and said, "Zelda, it's lovely. Of course I'll wear it."

A look of confusion crossed Zelda's face, but she didn't speak as Irene looked at her clothes, head cocked slightly. She snapped her fingers, and her Alliance uniform dropped onto the table. Her expression cleared and then focused, and her hands began glowing as she waved them slowly around each other.

On the table, the piles of clothes began glowing as well, and as everyone watched, they merged together, shining brightly for a second before fading and falling gently back to the table. "I think this will do," Irene said, and waved a hand around herself. White mist billowed, and a few moments later, she stepped out.

Blue cloth of the Hylian Alliance had been replaced with white, and the gold stitching shone even brighter, if that was possible. She'd kept the uniform itself the same, but changed the color to the white of Zelda's creation, and where the cloak had been dark gray, now it was a gray so pale it was the color of shadows on snow, its elaborate design shining like sunlight in the darkness. And the band that Zelda had asked Isha to make, in Gerudo Town, wove around her head in a gold--

Hazen allowed a laugh. "I thought you hated crowns," he said, and was rewarded with a scowl.

"Don't call it that. It makes it official."

Hazen snorted. "Yes, Your Highness."

Irene gagged, but when he looked back at her, she was watching him with an inscrutable look, worrying her lip with her teeth.

In that moment, her blue eyes sparkling, dressed all in white and wearing a bloody crown, she looked stupidly beautiful. She looked like a warrior princess--a fighter and healer and gentle soul and fierce avenger all at once. She made him weak at the knees, made him want to kiss, to touch, just gently--

Link came to him, interrupting his view of Irene, and Hazen simultaneously thanked the Goddesses and cursed them in the same breath.

Link's expression was sad and proud at once. His hands reached for the vambrace on Hazen's arm, straightening it and making sure the ties were tight, though he knew they were.

"I think of you like my own son," he said, quietly, and though his voice was soft, everyone heard it. They gathered in a circle and grasped hands, and with a breath and a smile, Link backed away, threading his fingers with Zelda's, keeping hold of Hazen's hand.

"Whatever you face out there," he said, louder now, "know that you could not have done better than you have. You've come through things with the strength and courage of heroes, and we are so proud to have been part of it. We're proud of you. Each and every one of you." He met each of their gazes as he spoke, and Hazen could see it in Link's eyes. "We want you to know that. No matter what."

Saval's eyes were bright, and Tessen had to swallow hard and look down before he could lift his head again. Hazen felt his throat tighten, and his words shook. "We would never have made it this far without you. We can't ever begin to tell you how grateful we are for you picking us up that day."

The Hero and Princess, Link and Zelda, nodded at his words, their chests swelling with emotion. "And that goes for all of us," Hazen continued. "Each of us depended on the other, and we should be proud of where we are today. Through everything."

He met their gazes as well, and saw that his meaning had sunk in. Saval's abuse, Tessen's heartbreak over years, Irene's continued loss--they'd fought through so much, even before Majora. They deserved to be proud of themselves.

And as Hazen felt that pride settle in his chest, he finally understood what Link had meant.

The world's not going to end as soon as you think. Give yourself some time to heal. Relax.

I've got it now, he thought. We can do this.

Irene was the first to speak. "We should start right away, then," she said, voice level and strong. "Here's the plan."

Heyo! Late chapter today, my bad haha. Also for anyone interested, I've edited the explanation of the witches' travel through time from the last chapter. I was made aware it was kinda...stretched, ya know? I read it over and was like oh yeah. Shit. So check that out if you like, and drop a review for this one, mayhaps?

See y'all later, much love!