Link wakes on the muddy bank of the river, splayed on his back with one hand coiled loosely around the strap of his pack. He doesn't even try sitting up; he can tell from the feel of his body that pain awaits him. He rolls his head to the side, squinting as the blurry landscape pulls into focus. Peering at him almost nose-to-mask is a dumpy little creature with skin like the smooth bark of a young tree. It's holding the slate awkwardly, both stubby arms hoisting the handle up under its chin to keep the device off the floor.
"Mr Hero!" it squeaks, nearly losing its grip. It heaves the slate up onto his chest and pushes it into the middle. "I found your thingy Mr Hero!" it informs him earnestly. For a hallucination, it's surprisingly helpful.
Link fumbles the slate face-up, and manages to key in a location with one thumb. He leaves central Hyrule behind in a swirl of shimmering blue.
When he bobs slowly up to the boundary of consciousness next time, he's lying in a bed, propped on a pillow with blankets tucked around him. They're scratchy against his skin, a welcome burst of real sensation after what feels like a lifetime wading through dreams. He cracks one eye open cautiously, wincing at the lance of pain it sends through his skull. Indistinct shapes move in his vision, striping the dim lamplight with shadows. He concentrates, and the dull buzzing resolves into conversation.
"- should get back soon," Paya is saying.
"I understand," Jerrin replies. "We'll let you know if anything changes."
"Where am I?" Link croaks.
Paya startles. "Oh! Link, you're awake! I'll go tell the others," she says before disappearing through the door.
"You're at Akala tech lab. How are you feeling?" Jerrin asks, settling onto the stool by Link's bedside.
"Like I was run over by a Lynel," Link groans. Jerrin passes him a cup of water, which he sips from gingerly. "I don't remember getting back," he admits. At least he came by this gap in his memories honestly.
"When Death Mountain calmed Granté went to go see what was happening. He found you passed out on the top of Akkala tower in pretty bad shape and brought you back. That was two days ago."
"Two days?"
"You've been in and out since. This is the first time you've been coherent enough to have a conversation. What happened?"
Link prods at his hazy memory. "I think I ... jumped into the moat from the top of Castle Mount?"
She stares at him. "Why did - why were you even there? Actually, don't answer that, you may as well wait for everyone so you only need to tell it once."
Jerrin helps him down the stairs where Robbie, Granté and Paya are waiting with Impa. There's a spread of food out on the table; plates of bread, cheese and meat fight for space with schematics and gizmos whose purpose Link couldn't even begin to guess. He picks up a roll to chew mechanically once he's deposited onto a chair, and Paya pours him tea from a brown glazed teapot balanced precariously on a pile of books.
"Purah was here too, but she left the day before you arrived," Robbie informs him, the goggles pushed up onto his head making his hair stick out in odd directions. "Said having all of us gathered in one place was only making it easier for Ganon to wipe us out."
"Purah knows her part anyway," Impa says. She's in one of the wicker chairs, feet up on a pile of books with a ludicrous number of cushions tucked in around her. She looks to Link to tell him, "She's making more slates so we can send people around Hyrule more easily."
"Oh yes, we confirmed that the slate will indeed transport two people," Robbie jumps in. "Both have to be firmly holding onto a handle, meaning two is likely the limit unfortunately. Having a few more should improve our responsiveness significantly."
Impa takes back over. "After that she says she has ideas for improving the other runes. It's better if she just gets on with that in Hateno, really. She's right to be concerned about us presenting a single target."
Link nods tiredly. "And the rest of you?"
Jerrin speaks up. "Granté and I have been working on armour designs incorporating ancient technology."
"We think we've got a design that will survive a Guardian's blast," Granté adds from where he leans against the wall with his arms crossed. "We just need to produce a first attempt at it now."
"I'm working on getting Che- er, my old fabricator up and running again," Robbie volunteers. "I should be able to really ramp up production on those blades I sent you the prototype for, assuming we can source enough Guardian parts. I've also had some ideas about adapting the design for arrowheads, but that still needs work."
"Once I've taken grandmother home, I'm going to gather some volunteers from the village to go on a Guardian salvage hunt with me," Paya says, cheeks slightly flushed.
Granté looks over at her, his hair falling over one eye. "I'll come with you, if you want; I know what bits and pieces to look for. Mother can handle the crafting without me now our design is finished."
Paya looks to Jerrin, who nods. "Thank you, then," she smiles.
Link slumps in the chair as the bustle of activity swirls around him. He feels Impa's gaze on him; she always was too observant.
"And you, Link?" she asks. "What is your plan?"
His plan had been to venture deep into enemy territory on the gamble that it would draw the fabled Hylian Champion out from the depths of his mind, but that had been a flat failure - all he has to show for his efforts are a few more dregs of memory and a shattered ankle. That, and rousing Ganon further, making Zelda's job even harder. He screws his eyes shut for a moment, breathes deeply.
"I don't know. I carry on, I suppose. Vah Naboris and Vah Medoh still need severing from Ganon's control."
Impa's watching him shrewdly. "What happened after you left Eldin, Link?"
Link shakes his head, and Impa frowns. "With two Beasts already free, and no indication Ganon is getting any closer to breaking out of Zelda's control, I think you can afford to stop moving for a while. Take stock of where you are, and plan your next moves. Naboris and Medoh aren't going anywhere."
"It's not like I can go anywhere until my ankle finishes healing, anyway," he grumbles.
"I think you should come back to Kakariko with us," she says. "You can have a comfortable guest room there to finish your recuperation, rather than displacing poor Granté from his bed. Besides, it's the star festival next week; I insist you stay for it. Paya, why don't you go help Link pack?"
Between the two of them it doesn't take long to gather Link's meagre possessions. Much of the contents of his pack have been spread around the room to dry out from their dunk in the river. He picks up the notebook he'd rescued from the castle, letting out a soft noise of dismay at its waterlogged pages. With shaking hands, he cracks the cover open. Ink smears over the page, the words bleeding together. He flips through, and sees that a few scattered paragraphs have survived here and there, but it's not enough. Nowhere near what he'd hoped for. He presses the diary to his chest, over the dull ache of his sternum. He risked his life for nothing.
Paya's watching him. "This was tucked into the pages," she says softly, fishing a thick piece of paper out from the chaos of the desk and handing it over.
Link takes it. It's an image from the slate, somehow printed onto a glossy sort of parchment. In it, he and the other Champions are arrayed behind Zelda, laughing as Daruk gathers them all in for a bone-crushing hug. He laughs, breath hitching, and traces Zelda's face with his thumb before tucking it carefully back into the book. Paya hands him his pack, her fingers brushing against his as he takes the strap from her. They descend the stairs in silence.
With two slates they manage to get four people back to Kakariko with minimal fuss. Paya gets Granté settled into the guest room next to Link's and then comes back to say goodnight before turning in herself. With her hair unbraided over her shoulders and her nightdress brushing against her ankles, any resemblance to her grandmother vanishes. She seems so much younger and softer than Impa had ever been.
Link settles onto a cushion downstairs; he's slept for days, and while more sleep might help lift the lingering aches, he can't bring himself to. He feels like he could stay awake forever, sustained purely by the thrum of tension that runs through him. He wonders if this is how Purah feels all the time.
"It's good to have a companion other than my own thoughts for once," Impa says as she pours him some wine. "Sleep is elusive, at my age."
"Technically I'm your age too," Link points out idly.
Impa rolls her eyes at him. "Get back to me when you feel each one of those hundred years in your bones and I'll have more sympathy." They sit in silence for a few minutes. Eventually she says, "you've been quiet since your injury. Do you want to talk about it?"
Link doesn't, really, but he knows he can't keep this all balled up beneath his ribs. He needs an outside perspective to help him find the loose end which might begin to unravel it. He rolls the cup between his hands as he thinks. It's been repaired at some point, and he runs his thumb along the seam where it was glued, feeling the slight roughness.
"I did what you suggested," he says eventually, "visiting places the old Link went, I mean. And I've remembered - a lot, really, people and places and things - but they don't fit together, they don't make sense, they're just - jumbled bits of trivia. I guess I was hoping going to the Castle would bring the old Link back, somehow, but maybe he can't be brought back. Maybe I'm all there is now."
He doesn't voice the most hidden fear that's been nagging at him for a while now: what if the old Link couldn't have done this either? What if it simply can't be done? Is he doomed to spend the rest of eternity dying and getting resurrected to try again, and again, and again? How long can Zelda last, realistically? Two of the Divine Beasts breaking free suggests she's on her last ounces of strength.
Impa, as always, sees through him like glass. "Either that shrine killed off a few brain cells while it was repairing you," she says mildly, "or I'm getting forgetful in my old age, because I'm certain you didn't used to be this dense. Why would you think you aren't enough as you are?"
"You said muscle memory wouldn't make me the equal of Ganon," Link points out, frowning. You look at me with disappointment, he doesn't add, All of you do.
"Well, what do I know?" Impa says, throwing her hands up. "You've already freed two of the Divine Beasts! Memory or no, the core of who you are, everything that makes you a hero, survived that shrine. Anyone who meets you can sense it, which you must know because you've been making allies and friends everywhere you go if you only stop to notice. I think at this point my advice is just be yourself."
"I -" Link starts. Impa keeps talking right over him.
"If you won't listen to me, will you listen to other people at least? Paya, Granté and Jerrin all adore you, and none of them knew you before. Or what about the Rito you've befriended, who came to the tech lab? He told us about the songs he's writing about you. Hopefully he'll leave out this unfortunate new tendency to self sabotage..."
Link thinks back to Yunobo's enthusiastic support, and how the other Gorons had rallied around. Yunobo and Kass both look at him like there's no question he could do anything he put his mind to. Link had assumed that was because they all knew the story of the Champions, but now that he thinks about it - he never did confirm who he was until after they'd beaten the Malice together, did he? He can feel one of the supports of his self-doubt buckling, but he's not quite ready to let it go.
"You know, I might not remember much of our friendship but I'm sure you didn't used to sass me this much," Link frowns at Impa, to avoid having to discuss feelings any more.
Impa rolls her eyes at him. "I've lived an entire life since then; I exhausted my capacity for caring about offending people about thirty years ago. Go to bed, Link. I think you'll feel better in the morning. It's the star festival tomorrow, and I defy even you to be miserable."
He does actually feel a bit better for the sleep, not that he'd admit so to Impa. He spends the next day exploring the village more thoroughly than he had on his previous visits. Kakariko's thatched timber houses, scattered among terraced fields and strung with bunting, give the place a sleepy, rustic sort of charm. Link feels like no misfortune could ever occur in a place this peaceful, though the quiet little graveyard reminds him that even this place isn't completely removed from reality. A pair of sisters called Koko and Cottla grab one of his hands each and tug him round on an enthusiastic tour in which they talk over one another at a mile a minute and disagreeing about everything. It's tough on his still-healing ankle, and he doesn't learn nearly as much as he had on Seldon's tour of Hateno, but he definitely has a lot more fun. The older Sheikah watch him curiously, as if they're not entirely sure what to make of him. He throws himself into helping out just for something to pass the time - picking fruit, feeding cuccos, sweeping. It helps keep the buzz in his head down.
He spends the evening tucked into bed paging through what's left of Zelda's diary. Even with so little left legible, it actually does help to see Zelda's thoughts laid out in order.
my father is assigning HIM as my appointed knight...
not a word passes his lips... He must despise me.
I said something awful to him today...
Tomorrow, I shall apologize for all that has transpired between us.
Bit by bit, I've gotten Link to open up to me.
I always believed him to be simply a gifted person who had never faced a day of hardship. How wrong I was...
I wish to talk with him more and to see what lies beneath those calm waters, to hear him speak freely and openly... And perhaps I, too, will be able to bare my soul to him and share the demons that have plagued me all these years.
Tomorrow I journey with Link to the Spring of Wisdom
He stops reading, tucking a leather strip between the pages and closing the book softly. The passages referring to him had been both painful and enlightening to read - how they'd misunderstood one another, to begin with! If only he'd had these thoughts to read a century ago, so much of their initial difficulties could have been bypassed completely. If only he'd thought to voice his own thoughts to her. Yet by the end there had been understanding, camaraderie. If Ganon hadn't struck when he did, what would the next entries have said? How would their story have continued?
Link has been carrying around the idea for some time that his feelings were one-sided. The diary doesn't explicitly say so anywhere still readable, but reading between the lines certainly hints that Zelda reciprocated to at least some extent. That would have been a problem, Before. Zelda had a very clear path laid out for her life, one which intersected with his only in the context of their shared duty. But there's no more royal family now; no rules of conduct, no court or courtiers.
He's getting ahead of himself though. Zelda may be trapped in the same in-between state as the Champions and monks, not dead but not truly alive. She may not hold the same affection for him that she did for his predecessor. He can tuck this knowledge under his ribs like a talisman, but not be consumed by thoughts of it. He has a mission to focus on, first. When he goes to sleep he tucks the diary under his pillow. He can keep Zelda's words safe and close, even if he can't do the same for her just yet.
Apparently even entertaining the possibility that Zelda might have returned his feelings is all it takes to send his dreams in scandalous directions. Link wakes still hot and bothered from the tail end of the dream; a flush of blood across his nose and cheeks (and other, less innocuous places). He lies face down until the feeling passes before venturing out of bed. He knows absolutely that he can't tolerate another day of mooching around Kakariko; his ankle is good enough to walk on so long as he binds it tightly, and he's itching to be away. He's packing when Impa stops in the open doorway to the guest room.
"Leaving already? I'd hoped you'd stay for the festival." She looks disappointed.
"You said it's a week from now? I'll be back by then," he promises.
"Where are you going to go?"
"I thought the Castle was the only place left with significant memories, but it wasn't. The last place we went was the Spring of Wisdom. If I can get a better understanding of those last few days..."
Impa still doesn't look impressed, but she nods slightly. "Be careful," is all she says before she leaves.
Several days later than he intended, Link finally materialises at the tower overlooking the lower slopes of Death Mountain. From such an elevated start, he can glide down the incline most of the way to Foothill Stable. The vibrant colours of the hot springs around the base look incredible from above, and he glides clear over the head of a confused-looking talus.
Epona is less than pleased to see him. She turns around in her stall to face her butt towards him, and doesn't respond when he tries to offer a carrot. In hindsight, he supposes he did leave in rather a hurry for a rather long time without properly saying goodbye.
"I'm sorry girl," he croons, stroking her flank. Eventually she turns round and snorts at him, sending his hair in all directions over his face. "I guess I deserved that. I promise, I won't leave you again without letting you know what's going on."
The stablehand looks over with a smile. "That one made herself a favourite of all the staff while she's been here - we'll be sorry to see her go. We were starting to wonder if something had happened to you, that's a long time for a Hylian to spend up the mountain."
"Ah, I got a bit... sidetracked. How much do I owe you?"
Purse significantly lighter, Link and Epona emerge onto the main road south from the mountain. It's a long ride back to Kakariko, but he has a lot to think about to occupy all that time. For now, he urges Epona to a gallop on the gravel path, and lets the rush of wind chase his thoughts away.
A/N: Thanks to everyone who's stuck with this story so far, and to the guest who left such a lovely review last chapter! I hope you enjoy the rest as much as you did the first ten chapters!