Summary: The past has way of resurfacing, doesn't it?

The rhythm of their steps finally slowed as the trees opened up to her small cabin sitting at the wayside. By now the sun had dipped to rest right on the edge of the horizon. Heading to the well, she drew a bucket as Link stood stiffly behind her.

"You can relax, you know? You're at a cabin in the woods, not a formal ball."

Clearing his throat he muttered, "Force of habit."

Walking back over to him, she could see he was still tense. "What do you think I'm going to do to you? Really, the worst I could do is this." She suddenly pushed the bucket she'd been holding at him, causing him to flinch and lift his arms protectively, but when no water hit he drew them away, realization dawning in his expression. He was stubbornly amused.

"You're a tease, aren't you? I think you like surprising me." he ground out, trying to hide the curl of his mouth.

Humming, she responded, "Truer words than I'll admit, but I think you need to be surprised every once in a while. I think you need someone to remind you that you're not in a castle. That's the reason you came here, wasn't it?"

"I suppose so," he agreed, nodding slowly, then began surveying the space around him. Not far off was a wood chopping block, axe put to rest there for the time being. The old, stone-cobbled well was some paces behind her, ivy reaching up its weathered cracks. To the left of that were the rustic, sun-bleached, wooden walls of her home, an awning stretching to shade a pair of beat-up chairs and a table in front of the window closest to the door. Zelda gestured for him to take a seat before she ducked inside to grab a washcloth, approaching again to hand him the bucket and cloth. Receiving the items from her and beginning to wipe away the grime from his body, he gave his thanks before questioning, "Why do you live all the way out here, at the edge of everything, alone? Why not the city or a town?"

Zelda caught herself nodding distractedly as she watched a water droplet trail down the slopes of his chest and stomach before blinking slowly, realizing she'd been staring. Looking at his face again, she saw him raising an eyebrow and giving a ferocious effort to keep his mouth straight as she felt her face heat. "My eyes are up here, you know?" he said in a carefully even voice.

"Don't you dare laugh," she warned, face on fire by this point.

"Wouldn't dream of it," he smiled.

"I actually will pour the bucket on you," she threatened, stuffing away her own amusement.

"You jest."

She grabbed the bucket.

"Alright, alright!" he laughed, leaning away and surrendering.

Eyeing his efforts to clean his back, she sighed, "Here," holding out a hand for the cloth. He frowned at the offer, freezing, eyes trained on her palm. Eventually, he let up and gave it to her, slowly turning in his seat to give her access. He couldn't hide his timidity from her, and the moment she made contact, his back went rigid, spine straightening. Gently, she swiped away the dust caked to his skin and whispered, "It's okay, you know? I'm not going to do anything to you."

The muscles of his back flexed as he pointed out, "You have before."

She winced. "I-I-"

"I'm sorry. That wasn't fair."

"No, it's understandable you would feel that way. You've been so kind to me despite my actions."

His shoulders slackened. "You have, too. It's just-" He slumped forward, gripping his head. "The, um, matter of . . . how I am supposed to let people, uh, come into contact with me is a fragile one."

She shifted on her knees, his meaning not registering. "I don't understand."

"I take it you don't hear much of political and royal affairs, living out here, do you?"

"Almost nothing."

"Well . . . as a way to maintain the people's hope and esteem, the crown has crafted the farce that I carry some divine influence, which translates to the nonsensical drivel that 'I must be preserved' and therefore must remain as untouched as possible. It's just a lie we tell people so they believe there's something protecting them from the future. If I can't . . . put things back into place, there will be nothing protecting Hyrule."

Zelda's hands ceased, along with her heart, a tapping, swelling dread taking their place. "From what?" she whispered, horrified, images of the bloody, dark, malice filled hole she'd spent a century in surfacing, creeping in like so many unwanted fiends she thought she'd finally escaped.

He turned to her. Very slowly. "Why do you already sound so scared?"

"I've known evil."

They stared at each other with eyes peeled back in apprehension. "You know of Ganon?"

A crow cawed, fleeing from it's roost.

"I know him better than any mortal," she answered. His gaze was so hard, so focused on her in that moment. "I was trapped with him in a prison I made myself for a hundred years."

Haltingly, he asked, "And that was because…?"

"Because I was the only one who could. I wasn't wholly mortal in that time; I had the blood of a goddess flowing through my veins."

He was white as a sheet.

"Link?"

He stared.

"Link, are you okay?"

"The blood of a goddess?" Sitting back in his chair, his eyes faced me but saw through me.

She nodded hesitantly, causing him to drag a hand down his face.

"What's wrong?"

"Zelda, I-" He froze again, thoughts twisting rapidly behind his eyes. "Do you remember how I said I need to 'put things back into place'?" When she nodded he continued, "My ancestors, centuries ago, overthrew the dynasty that held Hylia's bloodline. And now . . . now that Hyrule currently has no incarnate, no real defense against the impending darkness…" She stared at listless blues. "It's been declared my 'sacred duty' to right the wrongs of my ancestors. I am to find Hylia reborn."

In wake of his words a deafening void of sound settled around them. It seemed unnatural the way she saw the grass sway and a bird open its beak and heard nothing.

"It comes back to this, doesn't it?"

He was motionless.

"Do you believe me?" she whispered.

He gave her hapless eyes.

"I don't know. I just don't know."

She'd been gripping her hair in a fist when he interrupted, admitting, "But I want to." His eyes were all too wonderfully, horribly soft when the words left his lips, and she almost fooled herself into believing he looked like he wanted to say more about that one phrase.

"The misfortune," he went on, "is that I'm not the only one that has to believe you." Lips pursing, he muttered, "It almost doesn't matter what I think. If I have no proof of the fact, then I'll be viewed as 'trying to escape my duty'." A heavy sigh escaped him. "And I'm guessing that you haven't discovered any holy powers recently?"

She stopped breathing.

After all this time, after what she's already gone through, it came back to this? Would she ever be what she was supposed to?

He took her silence as confirmation. "How does it work? You had them last time didn't you?"

Nodding, she choked out, "Barely." In his silence she continued, "My kingdom had already fallen by the time I finally unlocked my powers."

"How did you do it?"

"I-" She frowned. "It was something about having the person I love going to be taken away from me. There were so many things I tried to stop myself from feeling back then, but in that moment, when you were about to die, I felt everything. And I tried to do everything I could to stop the only person I had left being taken away from me, and I had no idea what that was until I was burning with the light of the sun."

"So . . . It was your feelings?"

"That's what I've been able to understand."

With his next revelation his unease seemed to increase; so much so that he squirmed in his seat and couldn't look Zelda in the eyes. "Part of what has become my expectations is that I-" His knuckles were white as he gripped the wood of the armrest. "I am to discover the goddess by getting her to fall in love with me. It stems from the legends that say it was the goddess' love that awoke her power." He hung his head. "Which means that in order for me to be seen as doing everything that I can to save my people, I have to go around trying to win the hearts of women I pretend to care about."

Her hand reached out on its own accord, but he grabbed her wrist, eyes burning into hers.

"I hurt people, Zelda. You, of all people, would know that."

She pushed forward to cup his face anyway, and his shock led him to let her. "I have, too, Link. They've died because of me." Unsuccessfully, she tried earnestly to look away. "Besides, I'm definitely in love with you now, so . . . you don't have to worry about hurting me like that."

He was still holding her wrist and he was still looking at her with eyes that seared right to the back of her skull and it was very unfair.

"Doesn't that mean you aren't a goddess then? If you love me, and yet have no powers?"

She found herself repeating his words from earlier: "I don't know." Zelda supposed it was possible that the goddesses' could have taken that away too, but then why would they have her remember everything right on the cusp of another world disaster? "I find it more likely that I never understood what it was that gave me that ability in the first place."

Link exhaled, concluding, "So . . . neither of us really knows what we're doing."

She puffed a breath that resembled a laugh. "I think I get it a little better than you do, but, yes, you're sadly correct." Her next thought made her pause before she asserted, "You have to admit though, I'm probably the best lead you've ever had."

His eyelids shuttered before he acquiesced, "I guess you are."

"Would you want to figure it out then? Together? I could be wrong, but I think I'm the best resource you have."

He stared at her, question tensing along the set of his brow. "How did you do that?"

"Do what?"

"Get me to talk like that. To . . . go on and on?"

"I'm not doing anything but listening."

"Yes, but people listen to me all the time. I'm a prince; they have to. But you? Why am I talking to you?"

"I used to be the one you talked to before, too."

He exhaled, an unnamed conflict lingering in his eyes. "You would be, wouldn't you?"

"I bet that's frustrating," she grinned, lips leaning to one side.

His eyes narrowed comically and he accused, "You mean to toy with me? Again?"

"I love teasing you. It used to be a favorite pastime of mine." He tried to hide it, but his nose scrunched as he turned away from her hand. It was so cute she almost brushed his cheek with her thumb. Instead she drew her hand back to her lap.

"I can't say I'm used to dealing with trouble like you, but it looks like I might have to."

Her heart jumped. "So you'll come back then?"

Standing, and reaching for his things, he affirmed, "I have to figure this out somehow. Now, though, it's late." He pulled on the white cotton blouse he had with him. Zelda did not succeed in looking away this time either.

She followed him to the road, asking, "When will you be back?"

"I'm not entirely aware of my appointments, but if not tomorrow, the day after that."

As he stepped away, she reached out to catch and squeeze his hand, causing him to look back.

"I'll miss you."

Against all reason, he returned the pressure of her gesture.

"I'll be back."

Notes: U H. So yeah. There's that. Thoughts? Opinions? Predictions?